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"Sooin-ssi, don't answer any more calls or emails for today," you slumped onto the sofa with a sigh. "I'm exhausted and could tell a couple of people to go to hell."

You took off your glasses and tossed them on the coffee table so you could rub your eyes. The day had been a whirlwind; you'd had to meet with four different clients in various locations across Singapore, all at very close intervals. Your feet were already aching, even though you had a driver. But what was really killing you was the headache.

"Hmh?" Sooin, your secretary of three years, peeked her head out from one of the hallways, kicking off her heels. She'd been with you all day, of course. You were sure you'd work ten times worse without her. "Is it your migraine again, boss?"

You let out a heavy breath and put your hands behind your head. Fortunately, the lights in the suite you'd booked for this business trip were warm, not cold. Otherwise, you might have felt like your head was about to explode.

"It hasn't gotten that far, but it's not too far off either," you admitted, closing your eyes again.

The suite was quiet, so you could hear Sooin's bare footsteps until they stopped in front of you. You opened your eyes to find her standing with her hands behind her back, one knee rubbing against the other. It was something you'd gotten used to by now, but Sooin looked particularly stunning that day, in a black outfit with sheer black stockings that covered both of her shapely legs completely. Her long, jet-black hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, her bangs, with two longer strands falling over her temples, perfectly cut to accentuate her big eyes.

"Did you take your medicine yet, boss?" she asked in a honeyed voice.

You frowned.

"Medicine? What med…"

Sooin knelt between your legs and made you spread your knees. Her captivating eyes, framed by a perfect eyeliner that gave her a feline look, were fixed on yours.

A smile spread across your face.

"Oh, right."

Many executives had affairs… outside of work with their secretaries. What was so strange, or wrong, about that? Staying out of that circle with such a hot—and brilliant— bombshell would have been downright negligent, especially since she was the one who initially made the first move. Of course, if you'd been married, you would have rejected her outright, unlike many of your colleagues. You weren't that kind of loser.

"How could you forget your medicine, boss?" Sooin placed her hands on the tops of your thighs and slowly slid them upward, closer to your crotch, then back down. "You need it almost daily… and it just so happens you have a lovely secretary who provides it whenever you want."

"Like right now?" You brought a hand to her face and gently brushed your thumb against her full, plump lower lip.

"That's up to you," Sooin said, giving you little kisses on your finger and palm. "As you can see, my hair is already tied in a ponytail. You just have to ask."

"Hmm, maybe you can help me decide if I really want it or not, what do you think?"

Sooin smiled.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, boss."

Sooin stood up and placed her hands on the buttons of her blazer. She unbuttoned each one with great patience. Opening it, she took it off and let it fall to the floor. She was left in the tight, strapless dress underneath. Then, she turned her back to you, bent her knees, and slowly lowered her hips until she was sitting right in the middle of your lap. She shifted her bottom slightly, adjusting herself to feel your entire bulge.

"Will this be enough, boss?" Sooin asked. You just shook your head, but held her by the waist to signal her not to get up. "Hmm, okay. Let's try this then."

Instead of staying still on your lap, Sooin now began grinding her hips against your bulge, which slowly hardened into a rock-hard erection that your pretty secretary massaged with her buttocks. The movements were slow, perfectly measured. She glanced at you over her shoulder and let out a soft moan when you gave her buttock a slow, firm squeeze.

"Is that a yes?" Sooin asked again.

"That's a 'keep going a little longer and you'll get your answer.'"

Sooin paused for a second, lifted her hips, and hiked her dress up to her waist, right at the hem of her stockings, so her burgundy lace panties were exposed beneath the sheer fabric. Planting her nice, round ass back against your bulge, she continued grinding her hips, both back and forth and in subtle circles.

But knowing that wasn't enough for you, Sooin also pulled down the top of her dress and gathered the ends together, leaving the entire garment rolled up to her navel. Then, she reached behind her back to remove her bra and tossed it aside. You were stunned—as always—by her bare back. Her smooth, creamy, flawless skin became the target of a flurry of kisses as you also covered her shoulders and the nape of her neck.

"Well?" Sooin gasped.

"Mmm, let me think about it a little longer."

You reached in front of Sooin's body, took her chin in your hand, and turned her face so your lips met. Sooin let out a soft moan against your mouth, pressing her bottom against your bulge. Then you slid both hands from her waist up to her breasts, small but round and full, giving them both a squeeze.

"Mmmgh fuck, just ask me to suck your cock, boss," Sooin gasped between kisses.

You let out a little laugh. You probably needed it more than she did, but her desire to please you was overwhelming to her, apparently.

"Will you let me rip these stockings later?" you asked, massaging her breasts, her small nipples hard.

"I let you cum in any hole you want all the time," Sooin said. "Stockings are nothing."

You smiled.

"Suck my cock then, Miss Kim."

Sooin quickly slid off your lap and fell to her knees on the floor between your legs. Her gaze didn't even return to your eyes, but remained fixed on your bulge as she leaned in to kiss and squeeze it through your pants. You throbbed beneath her lips, making her gasp and bury her face in the fabric.

Her eyes finally returned to yours as she moved her hands to your belt and undid it, followed by the button of your pants and finally the zipper. You lifted your hips, and let her take hold of both the hem of your pants and your boxers, pulling them down to your ankles. Sooin gasped, her gaze once again fixed on your now-free cock.

"Mmm, how do you want it today, boss?" Sooin asked, her hands on your thighs as she kissed the back of your shaft, near your balls. "Nice and slow, or sloppy and fast?"

"I'll leave that decision up to you this time, Sooin-ssi."

"Nice and slow then… But you'll still have to fuck my brains out."

"I always do."

Sooin prolonged the kisses for a little while longer, leaving light marks of her lipstick all over your shaft and balls. A little after a minute, she stuck out her tongue and licked from the base to the tip, which she then trapped between her fleshy lips to give it the first sucks, her hand wrapped around your shaft.

You didn't call that woman's blowjobs 'medicine' just for roleplay; she was a damn marvel at it. Somehow, she made each and every one of your ailments disappear, replaced by the most overwhelming sensation of pleasure. Perfect lips, immaculate technique, a long and prodigious tongue, a penetrating gaze. It all formed the perfect cocktail for you to go absolute nuts.

That day was no exception. Sooin moved her head in slow, pumping motions along the length of your cock, so delicious that you felt each suck take barely a breath away from you. Your arms rested comfortably on the armrests, simply watching her work, your gasps mingling with the soft moans, heavy breaths, and wet sounds emanating from Sooin's mouth.

"How's that headache holding up so far, boss?" Sooin asked after briefly pulling you out of her mouth to tap the tip against her stuck-out tongue. "Is the medicine working?" She guided you into her mouth, sucking with loud slurps.

"It's definitely doing something, fuck," you gasped.

You reached for Sooin's head and guided it deeper. Sooin took a couple more centimeters into her mouth without any problem, but not content with that, she looked you in the eyes as she took the rest of your cock in, stopping the moment her nose touched your pubis.

Sooin gagged against your cock, especially when you pushed her head down, but she held it in her throat like a damn champ.

And the best part is that she looked you in the eyes every-damn-second.

About five seconds later, Sooin released you from her mouth with a strong breath and masturbated the tip of your cock.

"I hope I'm being of help, boss," she purred. "I could never allow you to work with a headache."

"And that's why you're the best secretary I've ever had," you gasped.

"And the best you'll ever have," she emphasized.

You chuckled softly.

"You're not wrong."

Sooin took you into her mouth to suck you a little longer. Then out of her mouth again.

"Well? Are you going to use me now, boss? Wasn't I your personal little slut?"

"It offends me that you doubt it at this point."

You got up from the sofa and helped Sooin to her feet. As you took off your shoes and slipped out of your pants and boxers, you put an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Sooin threw her arms around your neck and let your tongue into her mouth, completely submissive to you.

You kissed her for a good few seconds, squeezing her ass. Sooin returned the favor, stroking your cock with her palm facing down, every inch of it slick with her saliva. You gradually moved apart, guiding her clumsily—and blindly—toward the dining table, unwilling to break the kiss.

Sooin's light tap against the edge of the dining table was your cue to end the kiss, turn her around, and bend her against the table, a plastic fruit bowl serving as a centerpiece directly in front of her face. To your left, the dazzling views of Singapore's financial district unfolded before you, visible through a floor-to-ceiling window.

You took your cock and positioned it between Sooin's thighs, her crotch directly above it. Sooin knew exactly what to do and pressed her thighs together, crushing your shaft from both sides. A moan escaped your lips. If there was anything better than that woman's mouth, it was her thighs.

"Mmm, you love those fucking thighs, don't you, boss?" Sooin asked, her hands on the table but her arms straight, looking at you over her shoulder. "They feel so good around that cock?"

"Fucking delicious."

You braced yourself with your hands on her waist and began to move your hips back and forth to slide your cock between her fleshy thighs. Sooin straightened her back, pressed her back against your chest, and reached behind you to grasp the back of your neck and guide you into another kiss.

Sooin tensed her thighs to increase the pressure around your shaft, caressed by the silky texture of her stockings against your skin. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close. As the seconds ticked by, you grew faster and stronger in pace, your pelvis slamming against her buttocks as you fucked her thighs.

You could have gone on like that all night if it weren't for your even stronger carnal desires. A couple of minutes later, with one hand on her waist and the other on her back, you forced her to bend against the table again, this time propping herself up on her elbows. You dropped to your knees, her perfect ass raised in front of your face.

Then came your favorite moment.

You dug the fingers of each hand between Sooin's buttocks, making sure to catch the fabric of her stockings, and pulled hard to the sides. The fabric ripped like butter with a hot knife. You didn't stop until you had exposed a good portion of her buttocks and her slit was perfectly accessible.

There was nothing left to stop you from ramming that pussy like an animal, but first you had to be grateful for the meal. How did you do that? Simple: you grabbed Sooin by the hips, buried your face between her buttocks, and kissed every inch of her soft, spongy skin as if it were the holy grail.

A few seconds later, though, you pulled her lace panties aside to reveal her beautiful, wet pussy. You buried your mouth there, licking between her silky folds as you squeezed her buttocks. Sooin filled the dining room with her moans, and pushed her hips against your face as you licked her clit.

After a little while of getting Sooin ready to be more or less at the same point as you, you finally stood up. Sooin looked into your eyes as you took your cock, moistened it with saliva, and rubbed it a couple of times between her folds before sliding inside. You moaned, but Sooin moaned even louder, staring up at the ceiling.

After three years, Sooin now hated that you were slow every time you thrust into her for the first time, so you went at a steady, deep pace from the start, your hands digging into her waist. Your pelvis slammed against her ass harder and harder, making those beautiful cheeks jiggle with every thrust.

"Mmmgh fuck yeah boss, use me, use me!" Sooin moaned.

You grunted, raised a hand, and wrapped her ponytail around your fist, pulling it back sharply. Sooin cried out in pleasure, her head permanently thrown back. You let the seconds tick by. Sweat trickled down your temples from the now frenetic pace. The entire suite resonated with the sounds of flesh slapping together, punctuated by Sooin's hot moans.

"I'm going to cum all over your cock, boss!" Sooin whimpered. "Your personal little slut is going to cum really fucking hard!"

It was already tight, but you tightened your grip on her ponytail even more, now much closer to her scalp. Sooin groaned. In her desperate search for something to hold onto, she even tilted the bowl of fake fruit, knocking over a couple of pears that rolled across the table and onto the floor.

Just as she had predicted, Sooin exploded in her climax with a sharp moan. Her pussy gripped your cock. Its throbbing made you moan along with her. Her whole body trembled deliciously. Especially her legs, which threatened to give way for just a few seconds before she regained her balance.

"Give me more, boss, more!" Sooin whimpered.

You pulled out of her quickly and released her hair. Sooin straightened her back, turned around, and let you put an arm around her waist to lift her onto the edge of the table. She leaned back, propped herself up on her elbows, and spread her legs wide. Her pussy, with a small patch of pubic hair trimmed into a triangle, was ready for you.

Without wasting a moment, you slid your cock back into her pussy, gripped her waist, and continued pumping her hips. Sooin looked at you with lustful eyes, her face contorted with pleasure, her mouth slightly open. You slid a hand down her abdomen and brought it to her mouth, inserting two fingers for her to suck.

Sooin moaned around your fingers, sucking with devotion. Seconds later, you pulled those same fingers out and slid them to her chin, coating the area with her saliva, the same saliva which, once you leaned forward, you licked clean with your tongue.

"How the hell are you so hot?" you asked, looking at her closely, your fists pressed against the table, knuckles clenched.

Sooin couldn't answer, she just moaned repeatedly, staring into your eyes.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll put a fucking baby inside you," you growled.

As if you'd loosened a screw in her mind, Sooin raised her eyebrows, moaned louder, and nodded desperately.

"Is that what you want, Sooin-ssi?" you smirked. "You want my hot seed straight into your womb? I thought I heard you say you were ovulating."

Again, Sooin nodded as if she were begging for her life and gripped your neck to crash her lips against yours. You straightened your back and pulled her closer so she was properly seated on the edge of the table. She then wrapped her strong legs around your body, and instinctively you embraced her, lifted her into the air, and thrust like a madman into her pussy.

Not long after, Sooin came again without warning, but you kept fucking her as if you'd just started. She whimpered and let her head fall back, letting you pound her pussy at will until you felt your climax just around the corner.

Sooin looked into your eyes as you laid her back on the edge of the table and made her lie down. Then you brought her thighs together and pressed them as hard as you could against her body. That way, you thrust relentlessly, grunting, until you burst inside her.

You rolled your eyes and stayed deep inside her pussy as you unloaded stream after stream of hot cum against her womb, throbbing between her walls. Sooin gasped loudly and arched her back, her eyes rolling back too, feeling you fill her up like a goddamn cream pudding.

"Fuck… fuck… fuck…" Sooin sighed. "I feel all that fucking seed inside me, boss. So thick… so hot… so abundant. My pussy is going to explode."

Even though you'd already stopped cumming, you released her legs, pulled her close to kiss her, and stayed inside her for a while longer. The limp state of your erection was what forced you to withdraw. You both looked down. Just a trickle was leaking between her folds.

"Let me clean that up, boss."

Sooin wrapped your tie around her hand and ripped it from your neck, bringing it to her crotch and wiping herself with it. When she finished, she simply tossed it to the floor. Not that you were particularly amused, but you weren't going to complain.

She can’t help it. She’s just wired this way.

Straight from whatever factory cranks out these flawless dolls, only they either messed up with Asa or made her the upgrade—edges filed sharper, running at a temperature that’s frankly unbearable.

See, on the surface, the framework’s all perfect: the high cheekbones, the wide-eyed blush—the kind of face that’s designed to be stared at.

But look closer.

Trace where the image starts to drift. Heavy, ink-dark smudge of eyeliner. Lethal cut of her jaw. That smile. It’s dangerous. It’ll lodge in your brain for the rest of the day—rearrange everything—and it’s just dangling there off the corner of her hot-pink lips.

Throw in the coup de grâce: the strip of midriff she refuses to hide. Sure, she’ll dip a baseball cap over her eyes, wear a facemask to cover her mouth, but those abs must always be on display—the lean, hard promise of just how punishingly tight she’s going to feel when you finally get inside her.

“Asa,” you warn, a half-hearted dismissal. You keep your eyes on the large screen at the front of the theatre. There’s a hero, a damsel, a car chase. All the hits. “I’m trying to watch.”

It’s more of a courtesy than anything, not giving in too fast.

Wouldn’t want to spoil your girl.

But she’s completely tuned out the screen. There’s a car crash playing a couple dozen feet in front of her, all fire and twisted metal, but she couldn’t care less.

“Please,” she tries. Testing the waters. Falling back on old tricks.

You sigh.

You’re supposed to be the voice of reason here. Officially: her choreographer, dance teacher. Paid to instruct her how to move, to drill proper form into her. Not just… drill her.

The fact that she looks this good—that’s on you.

Don’t need to see her mouth beneath her mask to know she’s pouting right now. Easy enough to picture: plump lip out, jutting. Not that it’s needed. Her eyes are doing all the heavy lifting anyway.

She keeps at it, working her way through her favourites, “Please, coach.”

You roll your eyes. Asa clocks it. Decides to work harder.

“Sir,” there’s an uptick in her tone, the beginnings of a whine, and she keeps running down the list, “boss,” and she’s even closer now, nuzzling into your space. The armrest is already up, the only barrier cleared between your seats. And it’s the silhouette of her—sharp angles locked in deep shadows, framed like sin.

Those endless legs peeking out of her shorts. The plunging neckline of her low-cut top. The far-too-familiar curve of her hips.

Close enough to feel the humid heat of her breath. It’s trapped under the mask, hitting your skin damp and heavy. You can hear her stuttering something muffled; low whispers. Dialogue a hell of a lot more interesting than any script could cook up.

The things she’s telling you.

Oh, Asa’s got kinks on top of kinks. Exhibitionism, obviously. Desperate to be seen, adored, watched—reason enough to become an idol.

And yet, this is her favourite game. She knows the stakes—getting caught, ruining herself, her career, the carefully curated image. Willing to torch it all for a big cock and a generous helping of cum spilling out of her.

You can feel it pouring off her—her heart slamming against your shoulder, begging for what comes next. It’s the lead-up to the biggest kink of them all—the one she cries out every time you end up tangled together, the confession she spills when she finally unravels—in quiet moments, loud ones.

(After you’ve left her limp from fucking her inside and out, and you’re cradling her from behind and she just can’t let it go. She’ll guide your palm down from her tits to the curve of her stomach. Needing you to feel it. The ridge, the ripple, the little piercing there—a bullseye for what she really wants.

“Imagine it,” she’ll tell you, sounding like she’s caught somewhere between worshipping you and pleading for your mercy, “Imagine me. Filled with your cum. So deep in my belly.”

It’s the word that’s always dancing on her tongue, so easy to say, like it’s automatic.

“You could do it, you know? Make me yours—forever. Breed me, knock me up, you could be my—”)

“Daddy.”

“Asa,” you try again. Your brain isn’t offering much else.

“Come on,” she says, leaning into it, zero interest in pretending otherwise. “I’m gonna, like, die if I don’t have your hands on me soon.”

You nod toward the empty rows ahead. Reminding her just how little privacy exists here. Aware that you’re poking at the flame but, well, fuck it—you have far less at risk here. Besides, denying her is half the fun. “You’re the one who wanted to come here.”

"And you’re the one who picked the seats and the session,” she answers. She’s already scanning the dark. “Put us right in the back corner. There’s like, three other people here. I’m sure they’d be more entertained by this than whatever the fuck’s happening up there.”

She’s not wrong.

“Can’t we just skip the part where we pretend to disagree? Get to when you start calling me all those names, and I’m cumming all over your gorgeous cock?” She offers, way too casually for your liking. “It’s been so long—"

“It’s barely been a day.”

“Twenty-four whole hours.”

You’ve tried to train it out of her. Girls like her—everything comes easy. And yeah, it’s for good reason too—she’s insanely hot, no secret there. But she’s also barely hitting twenty. Young, sure, but the age gap? Hairline fracture, not a canyon. But just enough of a reach to give her the leverage she needs.

The ‘Daddy’ of it all, the kink she cultivates. Knowing the spin it puts on your whole student-teacher dynamic. A girl who should be out partying with classmates. Instead—devoted to begging her big, strong… whatever you are. Dance partner. Dildo.

“Daddy,” she says again, lingering on the word. Like it’s something sweet. Worth hanging onto. It’s such an easy out for her.

Her whining finally gets to you. Has you turning away from the flashing screen to look down at her.

She capitalises on it immediately. Preens. Uses a touch of her natural charm and all of her distracting cleavage. Watches you from underneath the dark sweep of those lashes.

It’s unfair. This is the one routine she’s got down perfectly.

But you don’t give her the satisfaction yet. Just raise an eyebrow. You’ve always enjoyed the preamble more than she does—there’s a certain joy in seeing her squirm. Making her work for it.

“Really?” The question comes out low, hitting that note you usually save for instruction. You can’t help it. It’s reflex around her. “Here, Asa?”

Asa blinks, unable to see the issue. Looking up with that faux-innocence that doesn’t stand a chance against your scrutiny. “Why not? How’s it different from anywhere else?”

Instinct has you moving before you can talk yourself out of it. You reach out, a thumb against her chin, a finger hooked under to tilt her face up. Getting a better angle.

She helps you, pressing into your palm to snag the mask’s strap. Tugs it down, letting it bunch at her chin before it slips free.

When it finally drops, her mouth is right there. Open. Spilling these hot, needy breaths over your fingers. Eager to place a kiss on your shoulder, before trailing up, closer and closer to your neck. Ready to plead her case.

“You never had a problem backstage—” Her lips graze your jaw, hot and slow.

(Fuck. Instant replay: green room, stage makeup just put on, legs spread on the vanity while you knelt and ate her out slow—tongue dragging until she was shaking, tasting like salt and adrenaline. Sending her out dripping, curtain up, crowd screaming, none the wiser.)

She shifts, breath ghosting your cheek. Teeth snag your earlobe. “—or on our plane rides—”

(Turbulence rattling the cabin, blanket over your lap, her head hidden underneath. Choking herself down on your cock, gagging quiet every time the plane dipped—deeper with each bump, eyes watering when you finally spilled down her throat.)

Her mouth trails higher. “You loved cumming between my thighs on that train, remember?”

(Packed car at rush hour. Crushed against the door like tourists. Her back to your chest, hand snaking behind to guide you between her thighs—just slick heat and smooth skin. Every lurch of the tracks made her squeeze tighter, milking you until you came across her legs, both of you pretending like she hadn’t just figured out your deepest, repressed fantasy.)

“And you’ve never had a problem fucking me after practice.”

(That first time. Sweat-soaked studio, mirrors everywhere. She cornered you. This sweet young thing, the casual hand on your arm, holding tight. You actually fell for the act, thought it was just innocent charm for a better spot in the lineup—a little more time front and centre.

If only you knew.

The first time she asked if you could read her mind.

No words. Just spun her to face the reflection, pinned her there, ripped the sports bra off her, tore a hole in those leggings. Fucked her against the glass until the mirror fogged and she was calling your name into her own warped image.)

And here she is again.

Same impatient smile. Clock ticking down. Eyes dropping to your lips for half a second.

“Haven’t I been a good girl?”

Ah, fuck it.

The movie’s pretty shit anyway.

Your answer’s always the same—a hand clasped on the back of her neck, the other gripping her thigh, and your mouth hard against hers.

Asa melts.

It isn’t a soft kiss. She wouldn’t let it be. Already biting at your lip, nails digging into your chest, through the fabric. Pulled together so tight the brim of her hat knocks against your brow—then it’s gone, tumbling somewhere between the rows.

She’s flush against you, but it’s still not close enough. Still not satisfied, scrambling into your lap—one knee braced on the seat, the other hooked over your thigh.

It’s a mess. A starving, desperate thing. She’s losing track of where she is, her world narrowing down to your hands and nothing else.

See, Asa lives for this—you squeeze and she’s smiling against your mouth, letting out these shaky, happy sighs that tell you that there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

It’s like running your fingers over heated stone, nothing soft that isn’t backed by muscle—that lean dancer’s build. You’re deeper in her mouth now, tongue taking what it wants while your hand maps the line of her shoulder, dropping down to catch the weight of her tits.

Your other hand is having a hell of a time with her shorts. Practically painted on her skin, vacuum-sealed over her hips. You’ve got your fingers hooked into the waistband, but the denim is stubborn, snagging hard on the curve of her.

Asa makes this low, frustrated sound against your lips.

It’s a battle—an inch-by-inch victory, Asa arching back and lifting herself off the seat—until the fabric finally gives.

The second you slip past the edge and slide inside—fingers finally finding bare, slick heat—Asa jerks taut. Whole body arching, hips snapping forward to chase the contact, breath fracturing into something dangerously close to a whimper.

You don't let it escape.

Your palm instinctively clamps hard over her mouth, muffling the sound before it can grow.

She doesn't fight it.

No—she welcomes the restraint. Leans forward until her lips part against your skin, tongue flicking wet against your palm. Low, filthy moans vibrating straight through your bones, each one a little wetter, a little more broken.

You can feel the exact second she decides this is better: your hand sealing her shut while your fingers slide deeper inside her shorts, stretching that denim, making her drip down onto your digits.

No lace to meet you—she’s bare underneath.

Why wouldn’t she be? She never wears anything on the off chance that you might actually—inevitably—touch her.

“Asa,” you say, teasing. Unable to help the grin plastered across your face. “Keep it down. People can hear you.”

She draws back. Just enough. Lips drag slow across your thumb, soft and deliberate. Fixated. Gone. “So what?” She whimpers, voice cracking high. “Let them.”

It’s dumb as hell to let things get this stupid. You strive to keep your books clean, keep things on the straight and narrow. Fuck, half your job is centred around maintaining discipline.

But honestly? Try pretending it’s all some unfortunate accident. Like you’re the poor, unwilling teacher who just got dragged into the temptation of his student.

(Asa—barely dressed, dignity in tatters. Like you never wanted her this obsessed, this unhinged for you.)

You lean close, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Who taught you to act like this?”

She doesn’t hesitate—answer slurring hot and wet against your palm: “You did, Daddy.”

Jesus Christ.

You pull her closer, hand staying, muffling her, and glance around. Just a handful of people scattered at the far ends of the theatre—safe distance, for now.

Not that Asa even cares. She’s already past words. Busy chasing her breath the second you finally lean some real weight into those fingertips.

To her credit, she’s holding back the worst of it; all you get are those high, pretty moans when your fingers finally take the full measure of her aching pussy. Her folds part so easily—red, swollen. So ready for you.

She wriggles, trying to force her shorts lower, but there’s barely enough room to move. You just drag a slow, punishing circle around her clit—teasing that makes her cry.

“Gah—” she chokes against your palm, the rest dissolving into shaky, broken sounds. It’s every press—her thighs clamp and release in frantic pulses, like she can’t process it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She’s just so soaked. Like, embarrassingly soaked.

Most girls don’t fall apart this hard, this quick. They moan, maybe whimper a bit. They don’t flood your hand like this, don’t leave the denim dark and heavy, don’t sob these quiet, wrecked little hitches the second your fingers finally get to work.

“Fucking hell, Asa,” you’re saying, but you’re the last person that should be surprised.

You taught her how to use every inch of that body, every pose that gets the cameras hard. This is your fault as much as hers.

“You’re a disaster. Look at you. Haven’t even got inside you yet.”

You shift your grip, letting her gulp down some air, right as the movie’s score starts to swell, drowning everything else out.

“I tried,” she rasps, pupils blown. “It’s just—you should know. Bringing me here. Dark room, public place. I’ve been thinking about feeling you inside me since we bought the tickets.“

"Hm." You shift your weight, changing tempo. Your first finger pushes into her opening, while the knuckles of your other hand find their way past her lips. Something to bite, to gag on. "I guess you’re right.”

Her eyes go wide. She’s caught between the feeling—fingers spreading her open below, doing what they can in the confines of her shorts. Which is not much—other than apply pressure. Make her feel you—feel the potential of how much you could ruin her.

“I did bring you here—chose this session, these seats. Because it gets me fucking hard, knowing I can have you wherever, whenever—if I want to.”

And from the speakers above, the orchestra’s reaching its peak, and hidden in that noise, around your knuckles, Asa manages a broken, “Oh God.”

There’s no guesswork when it comes to it. It doesn’t even take much effort anymore.

It’s almost too easy—just you, getting your hands dirty while she unravels around your fingers. But you don’t cut any corners, still putting the work in, getting messy and taking your time. Swirling a thumb around the sensitive, swollen lips before pressing down. Holding. Letting the weight of your hand remind her of the truth.

That this is it from now on. You—fucking her up, again and again.

Stage lights. Spotlights. Camera flashes—she steps under any of them, and you’re already there. In her head. Your fingers. Your grip. She’ll clench at the memory and know who it is that owns that little pulse between her legs.

That’s how you break her. How she ends up this needy, blubbering mess every single time you touch her.

You keep her pinned—arm wrapped behind her neck, bicep and shoulder trapping her—while your fingers stay lodged between those perfect lips.

“Look at me,” you tell her.

Asa obeys instantly.

Eyes drift upwards, searching for yours in the gloom. You can feel her teeth on your skin, adding to the collection. You’ve never minded the marks—trophies, each and every one. A history written in scars.

The one on your palm from when you fucked her senseless backstage and ruined her opening outfit. Those on your knuckles from nights spent sneaking into her dorm room. Every nick and scratch is regalia, medals granted for every time she choked down your name and begged for more.

The screen flickers—bright glare sliding over the sweat slicking her cheeks, catching the way her lids keep fluttering half-shut, fighting to hold your gaze. You don’t ease up. Not even a little. Yank her in harder, twist her right against you so you can really dig in, fingers shoving deep into her pussy.

You’re being a dick and you know it. Pushing her until she’s on the verge of a total meltdown. The swearing, the quiet ‘oh fucks’, the way she’s starting to moan—at this rate everyone in this theatre will know your name.

“You can’t even keep it together, can you?” Your voice comes out drier than you expect. You clear your throat. You want her to hear this. "People are starting to notice, Asa. They’re going to turn around and see what I’m doing to you. See ‘perfect’ Asa being such a little slut.”

She quivers hard, her body sinking deeper down your fingers in one greedy pull. It’s a full-body reaction—hips rolling, grinding—and Asa grits her teeth, fighting to stay quiet through it.

For the briefest second, your fingers slip free of her lips.

Asa seizes the opportunity. Words wrecked, cracked, defiant, “I don’t care,” she drags in a short breath. “They can look. I want them to know—to see—”

And it makes you decide to lean in, to give her what she wants. To really fuck with her head while your hand stays busy below. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being my little whore in public. Getting off where anyone could just walk by and catch you.”

“Yes—God—yes,” she returns, breath snagging in her throat, “They can watch. See how you make me. Know that—”

You finish her sentence for her—"Know that if I just moved my hand, fucked you a bit harder, faster, everyone in this theatre would hear how desperate you are for my cock.“

Tears streak down Asa’s cheeks, landing in your palm. It’s too much for her—the noise, the risk, the way you’re handling her. Has her looking up at you with this devotion.

And you find yourself saying, and realising, all at once—"You'll let me do whatever I want."

Asa answers, so perfectly, "I'm just a toy. Nothing but your toy, sir.”

God, you’re both feeding into this. These bad habits. Pushing each other towards something dark and just letting it happen.

Your fingers curl. Thumb presses. She's halfway to making a scene already—you cut it off. Mouth on hers, rough, impatient, tasting salt and that stupidly expensive gloss she always wears.

Her hands are fisted in your collar, white-knuckled, pulling you in until there’s no air left between you. She’s trying to crawl right into your skin. Straddling a leg over your hip, trying to climb you in the dark.

She’s hooked on this.

The danger. The shame. That’s what she wants. The risk that someone might see her like this. Not the untouchable idol they all jerk off to. Just yours. Ruined. Claimed.

You drag spit-slick fingers down from her mouth, streaking her chin, straight down the column of her throat, to the stiff points tenting her shirt.

Chest thrust out, tits offering themselves to you. You slide fingers under her top—grab a handful, squeeze hard enough that she sucks in a sharp gasp.

Asa folds right into your grip, hips canting sharply, a broken moan starting in her throat that you smother fast with another kiss.

“Way too loud,” you mutter. It’s a useless warning. She’s only going to get worse.

A few rows down, someone shifts. Head turns slow, searching the dark like they’re not sure what they heard.

You’re just shadows mashed together. One messy outline. One shape.

But maybe if they focused, if the screen flashed white at just the right instant, they’d see it all.

Asa: draped all over you, boneless. An expression of pure fucked-out elation on her face.

And you: hands vanished. One shoved deep in her shorts, the other crammed under her top.

Drawing these moans out of her, each one edging so close to too loud. You kiss her stupid each time to shut her up.

And she’s only burning hotter the longer you draw it out. Same steady push-pull, finger sliding in, sliding out. No gradual build, just holding her there until tears prick her eyes and she’s soaking your hand, cunt drooling down your digits.

Asa finally cracks, her lips leaving yours to whisper-beg right in your ear: “My pussy's so ready for you—I can feel it—” Hot mouth glued there, trying to drag you deeper. “faster—harder—just one more finger—just—make me—”

You curl slow, fingertips scraping—just enough to be cruel. Seat’s too damn tight for real leverage, but Asa’s crumbling apart anyway. You feel it all—the insistent throb sucking at your knuckles, the low tremors rolling through her hips, her inner walls fluttering and then gripping like they’re trying to keep you forever, that fever-hot draw pulling you deeper.

But it’s not enough. Not even close.

You can only sort of see her—outlines, flashes—the darkness is stealing half the view, robbing you blind of everything you’re owed.

You need to see it all.

Need the visual to match the friction: the specific, strained look on her face when your cock finally sinks deep, eyes glazing over like she’s gone somewhere else.

Want to see those tits bouncing in time with your thrusts, tracking every inch you feed her.

More than anything, you need that flush—the delicate pink crawling up her chest, her throat—right when she breaks—that glorious, messy spill of her all sloppy and undone.

She’s climbing, breath turning jagged, about to tip over—and you pull out.

Fingers slide free, rest wet against her mound.

Nothing.

Her eyes snap open, dazed, betrayed. Body still wound tight, teetering right on the brink you just yanked her back from.

“Why?” She's panting, voice splintering. “I was right there, I need to—I’m almost—”

“No,” you answer. Steady, controlled. “Not now. Not here.”

Asa’s biting her lip hard enough to bruise. Lights strobe again—flash—and there it is. Eyes dark and wrecked. Fuck. Part of you wants to haul her ass right up to the front row, shove her over the railing under the big screen and just let everybody in the theatre watch.

Every single person. See you fucking her completely senseless.

Real entertainment.

You shake your head.

“Then—get me out of here,” Asa surrenders, collapses against you, arms looping your neck like she’ll fall otherwise. “Before I lose it and scream.”

The movie’s winding down, end credits creeping closer. House lights will kill the dark soon anyway.

Even if you wanted to finish here, fingers alone were never going to cut it anyway. Not with Asa this close. Not with you this unsatisfied.

“Up,” you simply command, giving her a beat to stir, to dispel the haze.

You pull her upright—more manhandle than help. Asa’s knees buckle immediately, knocking like she’s drunk.

Trying your best to steer her down the stairs, feeling the thrill when she stumbles into you. But she’s a total disaster of your making—baseball cap, mask left somewhere in the back row. And those short shorts are fucked—buttons open, denim sagging low, barely clinging to her hips, only your grip on her ass-cheek stopping them from sliding off completely.

Not that you give a shit who sees now. Asa never did.

“Please,” she slurs as you hit floor level, ignoring the indignant shhh she gets from a patron she nearly trips over. “Somewhere close. Right now.”

“Soon.”

“Faster,” she gasps, attempting to be petulant, but just sounding so desperate, the sob still remaining in her voice. “I can't—take me somewhere, fuck me—just—”

And thankfully, you manage to reach a side exit without too much of an incident, ducking into a darkened area before she makes her shameless plea.

“Just make me cum,” she breathes, like a prayer to a higher power. “However you want. Fill me if you need to, fuck me however you want—just—I need you to make me cum.”

You’re barely holding it together listening to her—truthfully, you’re every bit as desperate.

But that urge gets shoved down for now, and you scan the service hallway you’ve stumbled into. Dim, liminal, probably bypasses the main lobby—staff shortcut, whatever. Not empty, though. A couple of patrons and some random usher spots you.

At first their heads tilt, concern flickering—girl, half-carried, looking like she’s about to pass out. But if any of them linger—if some asshole stares even a beat too long at her nails gouging into your bicep, or that dreamy, totally-fucked look smeared across her face—they’ll get it.

They’ll see right through the mess. See Asa, usually all filters, poses and bright lights, reduced to this drooling wreck.

Let them have their suspicions.

Leave it to the staff to scrub through the security footage later, let the rumours spread. Is that her? What are they doing? Are they going to—

You’re already moving too fast for their curiosity to catch up.

You find it at the end of the hall—a heavy door marked Staff Only—Authorised Personnel.

It’s good enough, you’ll take whatever you can get. The bathroom’s the usual cliché—but you’ve written that story dozens of times already.

All you really need is a hard surface, some privacy. Room to bend Asa over and take her properly—the way she deserves.

You shove the door wide—hauling her out of the corridor and inside, kicking it shut behind you. The deadbolt clicks home.

Both of you freeze for a second, breathing hard. Scanning the room.

Not a bathroom, not a closet. Projection booth. Narrow, uncomfortably hot. Fans humming, servers whirring, projectors throwing off this dry, stifling heat.

You glance across the booth and find the view: big glass ports looking straight down over a theatre.

“This will do,” you tell her, finally releasing her arm.

“I bet it will.” Asa flashes that grin, already backing up to find the perfect spot to get split in two.

Through the glass you can see into the audience. A bigger crowd than the one you ditched. A sea of dark heads, all facing the screen. Oblivious. No clue to the idol right above them, ten feet up, barely holding it together.

That’s the real view that hits.

Asa, lit by the projector’s spill. Bright, silver-blue, strobing across her skin. Every bruise, every fingerprint, every mark you've put on her—glowing. On full display.

She looks staggering.

Light dances up her tits, hits her collarbone, catches the sweat pooling there. Eyeliner a smudged, charcoal mess—daring you to fix it, or make it worse.

And she’s already at it. Hands shaking, fumbling the buttons at her waist—too wired to manage finesse.

"Fuck, I can’t wait,” she starts, a manic, little laugh bubbling up in her throat. So gleeful now that you’re behind locked doors. But her eyes—they’re wide, almost panicked. “Oh—look at me. I’m shaking.”

But you don’t move. Don’t help. Just lean back against the door, arms crossed, watching.

Your star pupil, freeing herself out of those tight shorts.

You give your instruction: “Strip."

That’s all it takes. She shoves them down, kicks them off—sneakers too—a heap on the floor forgotten.

Straightens. Stands there in just the tiny cut-off top. Legs endless. Pussy dripping. More than you imagined. Light catches the trails running down her thighs—shiny paths, creamy skin glistening. And higher up, hitting that silver stud in her navel, making it flash every time her abs flex with those shaky breaths.

It’s the sight of her like this. Exposed. Drenched. Still managing to look almost regal in the filth.

Just look at her.

So proud of the mess she's made.

It’s enough to make your cock ache against your zipper so hard it hurts.

Asa catches you staring—sees how you’re drinking it in, the state you’ve reduced her to. She smiles. It’s a devastating thing.

“Fuckable, aren’t I?”

No point denying it. You step forward, hands going to your belt. Unbuckling slow, tugging your zipper down. Giving her a show back—her mouth drops open, slack, tracking every movement as you close the distance.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Asa slides one hand to her waist, fingers teasing just above her heat. The other drags her top up slow—pale skin, goosebumps everywhere. Nipple caught between her fingers. She twists. A fast, involuntary inhale melts into this airy, perfect sigh that scrambles your brain. “To see me like this? See how soaked my pussy is for you?”

“It’s a good start,” you rasp, words like gravel.

Her feet shift apart. Legs spreading wide. Gifting you with the full picture: pink folds, flushed and slick, heavy with how bad she wants it.

“Claim it, Daddy. Stretch me open, ruin every inch—” Lashes dip low as she slowly pushes a finger inside herself, lids heavy, almost lazy with how good it feels. “Paint my insides, mark me deep… Or—” Pulls it out, now stained and shimmering, dragging it across her bottom lip. Sucks noisily, tasting herself. “You can even make me choke on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You swallow. Hard.

“Anything. Cum on me—in me. Fuck, maybe we can figure out the projector, put you feeding me your cum on the big screen. Wouldn’t that be good, Daddy?”

“Brat.”

Asa sighs. One word and she's shaking. That's what you do to her—sandblast every perfect inch until she's just raw need. All those filthy things you've taught her still ringing in the ears of a girl who used to be so, so innocent.

And then you’re on her. Hands sliding, gripping, taking. Lifting her like she's weightless. Dropping her onto the edge of a heavy crate, bolted solid, cold metal biting her ass.

She lets out a harsh gasp as you crowd in close, making her feel every bit of your weight pinning her. She’s all supple strength, dancer’s grace, but against you she feels small. Fragile. Yours.

Her legs wrap around you on instinct—habit, submission you’ve drilled into her. Heels lock tight behind you, and it’s total surrender.

She grinds her slick pussy against the obvious bulge beneath your briefs, tormenting herself with that cruel friction right at her opening.

Then she stops.

Hands drop to her sides.

Leaves herself wide open, bare. At your mercy.

You roll your hips—just a fraction.

That's all it takes. Sigh into a whimper into a loud, broken groan that drowns the projector's hum.

"Yes,” she whines. “Yes—make me feel it.”

She’s creaming all over the cotton—you feel it hot against your cock, making you throb, blood surging south in all sorts of terrible ways.

Asa’s eyes haven’t left it once.

“Can I?” she begs, shamelessly.

“Take it.”

Her hands dive down fast, fingers quick and sure as she fishes you out. Cock springs free—throbbing, painfully hard in her small grip. “Shit—look at you. This is what I—”

You kill that thought before she can finish it. One hand stays clamped on her ass, cheek filling your palm; the other fists her dark hair, yanks her head back. Crashing your mouth to hers—tongue shoving past teeth while you press forward, sliding out of her hands until the head catches on her sloppy-wet entrance.

You take a breath—hold your cock there for a beat, two.

Savouring it. Torturing Asa with the wait. Making her wail helplessly, body aching forward.

The slide in is seamless.

From her slick, open slit straight into that velvet heat—scalding, gripping like it’ll never let go. So easy. Like coming home. Her lips go slack against yours, slipping to your chin as the kiss falls apart, needing the air for her newest chant.

“Ngh—fuck—yes,” is about the most you can make out of it—choked like hiccups coming every time you sink another inch.

Your own lips trail down her cheek, venturing south. Finding that perfect spot on her throat. Somewhere to suck—mark her dark and deep. Something that’ll linger for days.

A brand.

A reminder of what you both know, what she’s been proving this whole time. She’s yours. Completely. Body, mind, in every light and darkness. Crowds can chant her name all they want—this joyful, desperate, falling-to-pieces wreck in this locked room—it’s the real Asa.

“That’s it—that’s it—right—there—ohhhh-fucking-hell.”

And Asa’s making these faces again. Nothing you haven’t seen before, but everything you love to witness. Brows knit in that pained pleasure, eyes squeezed shut like it’s all too heavy to hold. Lips parted in lovely, glossy surprise at how good it hits.

She can’t hide it—every twitch of her thighs, frantic hip tilt, desperate clench. She can’t help herself. Just has to show you everything.

“Asa,” you groan against her neck.

Your girl is back in tears again, but mixed with these pleased, giddy giggles. Haughty little laugh—not at you, at herself. At how helpless she gets every time. You make her cry, beg, then push her to the edge so fast her head spins.

Shit, you’re barely three-quarters in, no real rhythm yet, when her walls start seizing.

One heavy thrust—bottom out, buried to the hilt.

“Fu—ah!”

Asa loses it.

Hands fly—clawing your neck, then slamming the crate for grip. Anything to anchor her through this storm. Leaving it to you to hold her there, filling her completely. Incapable of anything but groaning your name in squeals that nearly drive you over.

Impaling her cunt like this—it’s rapture.

Pure heat. So intensely warm, tight, gripping around you like it owns you back. She’s thanking you in sputtering mewls, finally hitting that peak you’ve been dragging her towards since you first put a hand on her.

“Cumming—cumming—finally—fuck—”

It hits her out of nowhere. So fucking hard.

Ripples through, shatters her all at once. Nails dig into your neck—keeping her steady as her body locks. You expect a scream but there is none—just a strained gasp, too seized to let it out.

It just rocks her. Undoes her. Turns her limp in your arms—putty, liquid.

Oh, she meant every word—you can do whatever the hell you want. But for now, you leave her squirming on your cock, pulsing in long, slow waves, pussy clamping in these spasms that threaten to pull you under with her.

“Yes—oh—shit—” Words come back, but she’s still barely functioning. Held up by your strength and the cock still buried deep.

For as quick as it crashed over her—Asa comes down slow, in shaky stages.

You’re about to tell her that break time’s done—it’s your turn now, exactly what she’s been demanding for—but she doesn’t give you the chance to even draw breath.

Her heels loosen behind your back. Those strong, trained thighs flex—core tightening—and she slowly, deliberately squeezes you out. An agonising drag, inch by inch, until you’re almost free, head barely catching at her entrance.

You let her.

Let her push you back just far enough.

Then—snap—heels hook again, and she slams herself down hard. Full length in one brutal drop.

“Fuck!” rips out of you before you can stop it. The wet crack of your thighs against the heavy curve of her ass echoes off the server racks, bounces off the glass, rattles straight through your skull.

Loud. Filthy.

The most satisfying sound you’ve ever heard.

And Asa just laughs.

Watches your jaw clench, reads every flicker across your face. Making you think she really can read your mind. For that split second, she kind of can.

Taking control like that—dragging you out slow, then slamming you back in deep—knowing exactly what it does to you. How it lights every nerve. How badly you need her to keep doing shit like this.

“Sir,” she says, breezy as hell. The post-orgasm glow makes her look unreal—cheeks and chest flushed, lips wet and parted like she’s still chasing the high. “Whatever you want, Sir.”

So you make your decision.

You get in close, dropping your voice to that low register reserved for discipline. She keens when she hears it.

“I'm going to fuck you as hard as you can take. But I want you begging for it, first.”

Sure, she's been begging since the very start, but fuck—there's always more. Always another layer to drag this filthy little fantasy even deeper.

Asa dives straight in.

Kicks off slow, then builds. Broken, breathless stream of every depraved thought she’s ever had about you. A desperate litany of her very best, most filthy—yeah, you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s just a collection of what runs through her head when you’re posing her in practice rooms or holding her steady during rehearsals.

“Please,” she starts. “Daddy—I need this. Need you to ruin me. I’ll do anything. Anything you want, I swear.”

There she is—everyone’s dream girl—playing the part to perfection. But the honesty, the truths she saves only for you, hums through her.

“Haven’t I been so good for you?” She sputters, eyes searching yours for the approval she craves most. “I’ve been such a good girl. Tell me. I can be better—I’ll be perfect for you, I promise.”

Louder now, voice straining over all that ambient noise around you, words blurring into one long, filthy recitation straight from your darkest corners.

"And if I haven't been—if I've been bad then you have to punish me, don't you? Take me—however you want. Use me up—I’m yours. Just fill me—stuff me full until I’m leaking you.”

You almost laugh—because she’s pinned, exposed, in no position to bargain. But the promises keep spilling anyway.

“I need you stretching my tiny hole,” she gasps, head lolling back at the thought alone. “Need it deep inside me—need it so fucking—”

She cuts herself off—swallows the rest, teeth sinking into her lip to trap the scream. Heels dig into the small of your back, your fingers buried in the pliant flesh of her ass because you’re done waiting. Done letting her collect herself for her grand worship speech.

You nail her in earnest.

Teeth grit, jaw tight from holding back for far too long.

It’s unbelievable—her hole’s even tighter now, walls gripping in a strangling vice that shouldn’t be possible.

“God damn, Asa.”

But your focus narrows to the rhythm.

Watching her body answer every thrust—the clench of her abs, the ripples around your cock. This is what should get awards. Not CGI crashes on screens—this: tears carving tracks through smeared eyeliner, hair wild and static-charged, lips frozen in a silent oh-fuck.

You need her to hear it. Need her to know. “So ridiculously tight. Don’t know how you do it—always this wet, this hot.”

“Liar,” Asa shoots back, laughing—giddy, grinning through it. “You know it’s you. Your cock. You know how easy it is to make me cum every fucking time.”

You take the angle, turn it punishing. Skin slapping skin—hips crashing, the constant echoing thud of her back being driven against the wall.

Your hand goes to her chest—you need it all bare. Dragging the hem of her top up until it’s bunched around her neck, and then yanking it over her head so you can toss it with the rest of everything that was keeping you from seeing Asa in full.

Her spine curves, body lifting to meet you. And God, her tits—finally free. Bouncing in this hypnotising rhythm with every lunge.

You could touch them again—grab them, twist the peaks. But you bend instead—take one nipple in your mouth, sucking hard. Rough tongue, heat, suction swelling the bud between your lips.

Asa’s unmoored. Hands thread your hair, hold you there—binding you to her chest, keeping the pressure right where she needs it.

You roll the stiff peak between your teeth—just enough tug to pull that sweet-pained sigh. Mewls—adorable, desperate—with every graze. Chest heaving, fighting for air to match your pace.

Perfect, the both of them. So you switch sides—lap one wet and hot, knead the heavy swell of the other. Leaving them bruised, glistening, making her writhe, hips stuttering, knees squeezing your waist like your mouth on her tits is the only thing keeping her from shattering.

“God it's—so—fucking—good—” she’s gasping, falling apart. Collapsing and you’ve barely started.

You pull back from her nipple, leaving her skin damp and sticky. You could spend hours more on her tits—but you need a better angle—need to drive into her deeper. Harder. Faster.

Need so much more from your girl.

Whatever look crosses your face, it has her dazed, smug, joyful—knowing exactly how she makes you feel, what she does to you. What she is to you.

The tightest, hottest, most deserving cumslut you’ve ever had.

You oughtta make sure she knows. “That’s my girl,” you growl, praising your number one student. “God, you feel unbelievable.”

No easing up now. No tender bullshit, no slow-lover rhythm—maybe later, when it’s late and you’re all alone and you can afford to be honest with the softer parts you both pretend don't exist.

Right now it's just about carving her open. Rewriting every single muscle until her legs forget how to stand. Until the only thing left is your cock holding her up—buried so deep she feels it in her throat.

There’s only so much Asa can do—but she does it all. Buzzing with pride, arms around your neck, pulling herself up so close, face buried in the crook of your neck.

She moves. Hips tilt just right.

Suddenly she's there—weightless in your arms, yours to use. Built for this depth, this angle, this exact stretch.

Nothing but your good little cocksleeve now.

Her teeth find your skin, biting down hard. Enough to leave a mark—a matching set to the ones you’ve already branded onto her.

“I needed this,” she slurs into your shoulder. “Needed you to use me like this.” Her breath hitches as she grinds down once, greedy. “You’re not stopping after one, right? One round—one load—that’s never going to be enough for me.”

You find your pace. Grip tight on her hips.

Lifting her nice and slow, then—dropping her. Gravity does the rest. Wet slap after wet slap ringing out loud.

“If you’re good,” you tell her. “After this—when we get home—"

“No,” she interrupts, audacity still there, even when she’s ruined. “Not home. In the car. As soon as the door shuts you’ll feed me every inch. Once here won’t cut it—you know I’ll suck you dry on the ride back.”

“Christ,” you huff out, more air than sound. The image makes your cock throb inside her, pulsing against her seizing walls. Her legs spread even wider, her heels locking harder—opening up new depths. Gifting you every angle of that tiny idol cunt—sopping, perfect, made only for you.

And then, because she’s a brat, even as you thrust faster and faster—quick, hard pounds, devoured by her slick cunt—she pushes for more.

Wants to be hurt. Wants the bruises makeup can’t hide.

“Claim every hole—cunt, throat, ass—leave me dripping from all of them.”

“So demanding.”

"Day’s not over. We’ve already started—might as well go as far as we can.” It all just slides so nicely into your ears, makes so much sense coming from her. “Maybe I’ll call one of the girls.”

The scream when your knee buckles—the drop impales her hard. The crate creaks. Asa takes it all.

“Ah—fuck! You like that don’t you? You’d love it if Ruka or Pharita or—”

“Ahyeon—” comes out before you can stop it. Surprising even you, the name coming from some carnal, primal corner of your brain that’s been waiting to have a light shone on it.

Asa takes it all in stride. “I’ll call her. After you—ah, God yes—after I take all your cum here—I’ll call her. Have her waiting at the house. She’ll be there as soon as we get through the door. Our audience.”

It’s your turn to laugh—a low, mean sound. She’s cracked open your darkest impulses, the ones you usually keep under lock and key. Her fault for bringing it out. “You think she’ll just watch?”

“Why?” Asa shudders. Building up to it again—hips rolling helplessly. Creaming so heavy, gushing. Wet squelch with every thrust—loud enough that it wouldn’t be hard to tell—if someone was outside, had their ear up to the door, heard your words, her moans, the sounds of her cunt. Oh, they’d know exactly what was happening to their favourite idol. “What are you going to do?”

“Make you watch,” you decide, getting rougher, driving these pretty noises right out of her lungs. “I’ll take Ahyeon to our bed. See how her tiny cunt compares. Who knows? Maybe she’s more deserving of Daddy’s cum than a brat like you.”

“Oh God—” she whimpers and whimpers and whimpers, slipping right back to what she really is for you: your cum-hungry little toy.

“Tie you up,” you keep going, fantasy fuelling each thrust. “Wrists, ankles. Gag to keep you quiet. Leave your little toy buzzing while I fold Ahyeon over and fuck her pretty pussy right in front of you.”

“Yes—gah—I can't—” Asa’s a catastrophe—getting hoarse, vocal cords exhausted. Her forehead thumps against your shoulder. All torn up and tired—making you push into her harder, get as close as you can, as far up into her guts as your cock can go and then further still.

“You’d fucking love that, wouldn’t you?”

You snap your hips and drive into her again—getting your answer. “Yes—yes—just—inside first. Please!”

Asa’s bawling, delirious, out of it. If your cock wasn’t pinning her in place she'd be on her knees, mouth open, begging with whatever breath she has left.

But you both know the truth; there's only one place this ends. Lost count of her cycle weeks ago—not that it matters. It's the same endless litany spilling from her lips, wrecked and reverent: inside, inside, inside—a prayer she's been chanting since the first time you bottomed out and she realised she could have this forever.

You drive harder. Deeper.

Chasing that white-hot snap where everything collapses.

"Fuck—look at you. You’re shaking so hard—gonna break for me again?”

No pause—hips crashing, shaking the wall, rattling the glass in its frame. Hard enough that you might crack it before you’re done.

“Do it—break for me. Cum all over my cock—right now. Cum so I can walk you out and show everyone what a dirty little whore you are.”

And this is the point where the tension is snapping, and you’re reaching the head of every single one of your shared kinks and fantasies and everything that keeps the two of you going. This is the mountaintop. Sensory overload. You and Asa. The very real risks. Door could open any second. Intensity climbing up the length of your cock.

Her arms cuff themselves around your neck, eyes screwed shut, nose wrinkled in raw, aching bliss. Asa’s tongue darts out—clumsy, desperate—licking your jaw, chin, grazing your lips. Trying to anchor, to kiss, but you’re hammering her too hard, too fast. Too punishing for her to hold on.

But there’s no other way to show it—what the sex, the words, the dirty talk like psychological torture is doing to her. Finally driving her mad.

“I need it—Daddy—my pussy needs—needs you—I can’t—” she sobs, then simply loses the ability to speak.

Another orgasm shoots through her—wildfire scorching her skin. Her spine clicks, her muscles—her cunt—rippling, fisting around you.

She’s too loud—louder than any projectors, the equipment hum, the muffled movie beyond the glass.

Just her voice, cresting into slurred, filthy gratitude that no walls could ever hold.

So you take her mouth again—tongue gagging her cries, swallowing the rest before she screams the place down. The image flashes hot: Asa, your gorgeous, thoroughly used girl, coming undone on your cock, and the crowd behind the glass all turning at once to catch her.

“They’re gonna catch us, Asa,” you breathe against her lips. “Any second, that door’s gonna open—they’ll see everything. See you pounded, broken, filled with me. You want that? Want them watching me ruin you?”

“Yes!” She cries, gaze going utterly dark—pupils blown so wide the brown disappears, nothing left but black staring up at you. “Let them look—see how you fuck me—how you breed me—” And she just can’t hold on anymore, walls flutter once, then seize, refusing to let even an inch slip free. “Cum in me—right in my little pussy—make it yours for good—"

You feel it all at once. Every promise, every bargain she’s made. Your body locks—pressure burning molten-hot before it surges forward. “Fuck—Asa!”

Your hips slam deep—her heels dig in, forcing you forward until you’re fully buried.

Then you erupt.

A hot rush floods her centre. She freezes—braces herself against the wall as she feels that first thick release splash inside her. Drooling from the corner of her mouth, lips quivering with each and every spurt you drive in.

“You have no idea, it feels so good,” she says, barely audible. “I can feel it—all of it—feel you fucking it deeper—”

Not done yet. Keep grinding, hips working in the confines her heels give you, fucking your cum deeper into her, even as it starts to leak. It’s cataclysmic, a proper disaster—the liquid heat of her, your heavy load making this obscene slosh that fills your ears with pure delirious satisfaction.

Nothing else exists. Nothing else has ever existed.

Just this: draining every last drop into Asa's greedy belly until she's overflowing, until it spills hot and thick down her thighs.

Her fault, always. Milks you like she’s owed. Wrings out the biggest, messiest loads you’ve ever given anyone, every time.

It seeps out of her, thick and slow. Dribbling down the backs of her thighs. Staining the crate—but Asa’s barely there to register it.

Your perfect idol. Dripping with your cum.

You wrap her tight—arms around her, chest heaving against hers. One last clap of your hips as your cock throbs the final globs. Kiss her temple, her cheek, her mouth—hard. Taste salt tears, sweet gloss, feel her finally melt and relax into a delighted, liquid-soft heap.

It's got you all delirious, you think you're even laughing when the last tremor fades. Like you can’t believe it. Even after everything, after all this time, Asa shorts out your circuits, overwrites every shred of better judgment.

“Baby,“ you say. Catching your breath. Savouring the fantasy girl in your arms. “Don’t know if I can even leave this room.”

“Then don’t.” Asa suggests. Soft, still clinging. "At least wait a sec. Don’t pull out yet. Just stay.”

You do as she says, you owe her that much. Staying buried in the sticky, spent mix you’ve made. You know you should make a move, should be preparing a warning about time, place, the world outside—but it goes forgotten when you see her face.

So content. Fulfilled. Face gone all slack and dreamy. Your gold-star girl, fucked-out and so damn happy.

It does something stupid to your chest.

“Just. Let me have this,” she coos. “Just a second. Then you can take me wherever.”

God, she looks perfect. You’ve told her a million times—she just absorbs it, owns it. Says it’s all for you. Then reminds you why.

“I’d let you, you know.” Wistful smile, complete awe. “Walk me out—parade me through the lobby, the street. Dripping with your cum. Tell everyone I’m yours. I’d be so proud. Making them all jealous. At me, stuffed full of you.”

She takes a beat. Challenge flickers—sparks—in her eyes, blood already rushing back.

“You could even put me on a leash, if you really wanted.”

The thought sits. Takes time to settle. You see it in her eyes—crystal, terminal. Every kink you’ve fed her, distilled. Right there.

“Is that what you want?”

You’re honest with her. Quick and upfront. “I just want to make you happy, Asa.”

And she blushes at that—a genuine, deep crimson that has nothing to do with how exhausted and spent you have her. Preens under the affection, then sighs. “Then help me up. Let’s get out of here.”

She shifts—lifts herself close enough to press her forehead against yours. It’s nice—and a little vulnerable. The gentlest thing she’s given you. Her fingers find yours. She squeezes.

You could probably say something pretty about it: the faint tremor in her wrist when she reaches, the linger of her fingers a second too long, the tiny catch in her breath when your cock finally starts to slip free.

The slow, thick dribble that follows—shiny, obscene, tracing a lazy line down her inner thigh. It’s a work of art—should be hung in museums, exhibited worldwide.

But it’s just Asa. Hair mussed midnight, skin glowing, cum leaking down her leg in a single proud stripe.

Look at her.

Your perfect girl, snapping her thighs shut, locking every last drop inside that tiny cunt you just ruined.

“You’ve made such a mess of me,” she says, like she couldn't be happier. Surveys her trembling limbs. “Think I’m gonna need you to carry me out.”

She steals your shirt—dabs at smeared eyeliner, the last of her tears. A half-hearted attempt at decency.

You do your part too—helping her tug her top back on, smoothing out the edges you’ve fucked loose. Putting her back together as best you can—even if the pieces don’t fit quite as snugly anymore.

“Shorts?“ She gestures. You kneel, help her step into them. Slide them over the streaks.

But she can’t quite wait for you, bending down as you’re halfway up her thighs, reaching to fish out her phone. Her thumbs start flying across the screen.

“What are you doing?” You ask, fastening the last button at her waist. Dipping low—pressing one last kiss to the beauty mark just above her hip.

Asa smiles—a sharp, wicked thing. She reaches down, a finger under your chin, tugs you up until you're eye to eye again.

Close enough that her swollen lips brush your nose in a soft, almost tender peck.

“What do you think, Daddy?” That coy little lilt still there, voice rasped raw from screaming into your mouth. “Texting Ahyeon.”

(And just like that—your Asa, fully back online. Photogenic smile locked in place, lips plush and bruised, endless legs shifting, ready to be spread open for round two.

Just a stack of obsessions, one neatly atop the next. Each hungrier than the last, begging to be broken the same way.

You’ll take your time. One by one. Whenever the mood strikes.

You were never supposed to be famous.

Not like the other Vixen male stars — the ones with their manicured stubble, scripted groans, timed thrusts. They fucked like they were in a perfume ad. Smooth. Predictable. Safe.

But you?

You were raw. Unruly. Dangerous, even.

You didn’t just shoot scenes — you made the scenes bleed. You ruined takes by moaning too loud. You broke character to whisper real things in your co-star’s ear. You used spit when they expected lube, kept the camera rolling when others would've cut, stared down the lens like it owed you something.

You were a headache. A risk. But you were real. For the love of the game, this generation would say.

The clip that changed everything wasn’t even part of the official cut — it was a leaked behind-the-scenes moment, you wiping sweat off a girl’s back and whispering, “Keep breathing, baby, we’re still rolling.”

Comments flooded in. Who is this guy?Why does this feel like a fucking movie?Finally. Someone who feels.

So Vixen gave you the reins.

They stopped giving you scripts. Then they let you choose your co-stars. Then your location. Your crew. Your angles. Your vision. The script. 

They let you make art out of fucking.

And now? They just give you a budget and tell you not to get arrested.

And so you sat with it — the money, the freedom, the pressure. 

You thought long and hard about your next scene. It couldn’t just be wild. That was too easy. It couldn’t just be beautiful. That was expected. You wanted something hot. Intimate. Erotic. Sensual. A scene that lingered. That made people breathe differently.

You didn’t want noise. You wanted slow burn. Heat under the skin. The kind of tension that makes the audience forget to blink.

So you tapped into your greatest tool — not your cock, not your camera. Your charisma.

You reached out, carefully, quietly. No agents. No casting calls. Just personal messages — subtle, respectful, honest.

And somehow... you got a reply.

Then another.

Two names that used to break the internet with every stage performance. Two women who used to stand under spotlights, adored but untouchable. Two idols turned silent — inactive, but never irrelevant.

Karina and Winter of now-defunct aespa.

You didn’t pitch them a porno. You pitched them an experience. A story. A revival not of their fame, but their fire.

They didn’t say yes immediately. But they didn’t say no, either. It was a few days of deliberation at least.

You knew if you could get them to show up — just once — to see the heat you were crafting, the lens you’d built your legend through…

You’d make something that burns. Something unforgettable. Something that fucks the world up. All you had to do was make them believe.

-

They agreed.

You didn’t ask for rehearsals. You didn’t send a script. You told them to come one hour before call time, meet the crew, get dressed, and let the rest happen on camera.

You wanted authenticity. You wanted them raw.

So when you walk into the shaded prep tent — just off the edge of a dried-out highway, golden hour simmering in the dust — you’re not sure what to expect.

But what you get? Stops you cold.

Winter is the first thing you see. Or rather — her legs. Long, pale, impossibly smooth, kicked up on a folding chair like she owns the place. The red fur wrap clings to her shoulders, barely hanging on. She’s sucking on a cherry popsicle like it’s the only thing keeping her from exploding.

She glances at you and smirks. “You’re late.”

You aren’t. But you let her have it.

Then you hear the click of heels — deliberate, slow, rehearsed — and turn your head just in time to see Karina walk in from behind the dressing screen.

Leathers and skin. That’s all she’s wearing.

A black micro-bodysuit with slits down the side so deep it may as well be lingerie. Her thighs sculpted from whatever gods used to carve desire. Her chest practically spilling out — not by accident, but by design. Hair styled like a diva, eyes like she’s already watching you undress her with your gaze.

She doesn’t smirk. She doesn’t flirt. She just holds your stare and says, flatly:

“So we just fuck? Like this?”

You pause. Not because you’re unsure — but because it hits you, all at once:

What they’re wearing. What they’re not wearing. How much skin they’re showing.

These weren’t just pornstars. Not yet. They were ex-idols — girls who once danced for cameras that demanded purity. Girls whose managers would’ve had heart attacks at even a bare shoulder.

And now?

Now Winter's spread out like a summer fantasy in boots and fur. Now Karina’s practically leaking confidence down her thighs in leather too tight for TV. Now both of them are dressed exactly how you imagined… or maybe better.

You exhale, slow. Then grin.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just like that.”

And in that moment — you’re not thinking about direction, or cameras, or angles. You’re just thinking one thing:

Fuck. This scene’s gonna ruin people.

-

They’re both staring at you now.

Winter, sprawled like a brat in heat, legs parted lazily over the arm of her chair. Karina, standing like a goddess forged from arrogance and polish, arms folded, hips cocked just slightly.

You can feel their eyes on you — curious, skeptical, a little hungry. You decide to give them the story.

You clear your throat and walk to the folding table, where your only “script” is a wrinkled napkin with a single line on it: ‘two girls. one mechanic. desert heat.’

You tap it twice.

“Here’s the plot.”

They lean in — a little.

“Simple. Sexy. Cinematic.”

You gesture toward the empty road just outside the tent, sun still burning in its final hour.

“You two — ex-idols, now just gorgeous strangers — are riding across Morocco. One bike. Two girls. Tight leather. Legs for days.”

Winter licks her lips. “That’s accurate so far.”

You smirk. “You break down in the middle of nowhere. No signal. No help. Nothing but a busted engine, a dry mouth, and the desert sun beating down on your backs.”

Then you pause — take a step closer. Let your voice drop.

“And then… you find me.”

They say nothing, but you see it — the slight shift in Karina’s jaw. The interest behind Winter’s smirk.

“I’m a mechanic. T-shirt clinging to my chest. Grease on my fingers. Living out here alone. No distractions. Just... parts, engines, and long days.”

You hold their gaze. You let them feel the weight of what’s not being said.

“And when a fine fucking mechanic in the middle of nowhere meets two dangerously hot women, dressed like they’ve forgotten what shame feels like…”

You grin.

“…you know shit’s about to go down.”

Winter chuckles. “That’s your pitch?”

Karina raises a brow. “No dialogue?”

You shrug. “Only if it feels earned.”

They glance at each other. They don’t smile. But they don’t say no.

Then Winter stretches, standing up, her fur barely clinging to her chest now. She walks over and taps your chest with a red-nailed finger.

“Better not waste my time, mechanic.”

Karina follows, slow, poised, her leather creaking softly as she passes by — whispering just loud enough for only you to hear:

“Cinematic, right? Make sure you don’t blink.”

And just like that, you know: This isn’t going to be a scene. It’s going to be a fucking event.

-

The camera rolls.

No words. No sound yet. Just the heavy hum of desert heat and the kind of sexual tension that makes skin itch — and throats dry.

She walks into frame.

Winter.

Drenched in sunlight. Draped in nothing but a whisper of red fur, wrapped low around her arms and across her chest like she stole it from a fashion shoot and decided she’d rather fuck in it than pose.

It’s not clothing. It’s decoration. And it’s barely holding on.

The fur clings to her neck, dips across her bare tits — no bra, no tape, not even a pastie. Just soft, round breasts pressing beneath the fabric, nipples hard and obvious, brushing up against the lining with every lazy sway of her hips. The fur shifts when she walks, threatening to fall. Teasing it. She wants you to pray for a gust of wind. She wants you frustrated.

Her bare stomach is tight and glistening — soft abs flexing with every slow, measured step. Her belly looks kissable. Lickable. Like it would twitch under a tongue. A black leather belt rides just above her hipbones, slung low over her barely-there shorts, which might as well be fabric strips stitched together by horniness.

The waistband? Twisted. The zipper? Tugged halfway down.

Her pussy lips aren’t visible yet, but they will be. The shorts are that tight.

Her thighs press together with every step, sweat glistening between them. Long, toned, lickable legs, wrapped in knee-high black boots that catch the light like polished sin. Her calves flex. Her ass peeks out just beneath the edge of the shorts — the underside round and begging to be grabbed.

The camera lingers. Tracks every bounce.

She stops. Spreads her stance. Hands on her hips, elbows out.

Her tactical gloves are glossy black leather — the kind that look good wrapped around a throat or a cock. Her lips are parted, tongue barely visible, wet with spit and suggestion. She breathes like she just got fucked in the heat and needs it again.

She looks into the camera. Then through it. Like she knows who’s watching. Like she knows how hard you are.

She turns her body slightly — side profile, one tit nearly exposed, her arm pressing against the fur to keep it from falling. But just when you think she’s going to adjust it…

She lets it slip.

Half an inch. Then an inch more.

A full sideboob flashes — the curve, the under, the peek of a pink, stiff nipple, visible for a heartbeat before the fur catches on her elbow and stops sliding. Her mouth curls into the ghost of a smirk, as if she’s disappointed it didn’t fall farther.

She shifts her weight. Her thighs press tighter. Her shorts crease right over her pussy, fabric straining against swollen lips that must be soaked already.

She bites her bottom lip. Lets it go. Spit glistens on her mouth.

She turns her head to the side — just slightly.

She’s waiting.

Not for a cue. Not for a line.

For you. The mechanic. The one who’s going to break her on camera.

But not yet. Not just yet.

She holds the frame. Lets the audience ache. Lets them burn.

-

The frame cuts. Then a soft pan. The wind stirs the dust, heatwaves blurring the edges of the horizon like the world itself is starting to sweat.

And then— Karina.

Laid the fuck out on a matte-black Yamaha like it was custom-built to carry nothing but pussy and power.

Her spine curves over the seat with feline grace — not posed, not stiff. Just liquid and confident, like she belongs to the machine and the sun is lucky to shine on her. One arm hangs lazily above her head. The other coils around the bike’s side mirror like she might snap it off if someone tells her to wait.

She’s not in a rush. She’s already won.

Her crop top is more suggestion than garment — rugged, fur-trimmed, collar popped, and wide open across the front. Not pulled tight. Not clipped shut. Just hanging there. And what it reveals is criminal.

Her tits are massive, round, full — the top curves completely exposed. Her nipples poke through the fabric, dark and hard, made harder by the sweat dripping between them, gathering in the valley of her chest. The sun devours her body, and she lets it — her waist glistens, her abs soft but sculpted, the gentle swell of her belly rising with each slow, sultry breath.

She looks fuckable. Edible even. A sweaty meal you would relish with great joy.

Her shorts are tighter than skin — black leather, slippery with heat, clinging to her hips like they’re the only thing holding her together. A silver chain droops low across her pelvis, swinging slightly with each shift of her hips. The zipper’s down a notch — enough to hint, enough to hope.

She shifts just enough for the camera to catch the press of her pussy lips against the inside seam — her fat, glossy mound shaping the leather like it’s trying to escape.

Her boot plants against the asphalt. The other leg is bent, wide — her inner thigh exposed, smooth and gleaming, pointing directly to where her shorts are working overtime.

Her ass peeks just beyond the edge of the bike seat — fat, round, jiggling slightly as the wind passes.

She turns her head.

Hair tousled from heat and movement. Eyes half-lidded, lashes heavy. Lips parted, soft and wet like she just woke from a dream and got fucked in it.

She doesn’t look at the camera. She doesn’t need to. The camera begs to look at her.

There’s no act. No seduction.

This is female arrogance. Sex made still. Power without apology.

She taps the mirror with gloved fingers. Slow. Then again. A silent countdown.

Her boot drags across the gas tank — a squeak of leather against metal. She rolls her hips once, slow, and the creak of her shorts is like a moan waiting to happen.

Her hand slides over her thigh. Higher. Brushes the meat of her pussy through the shorts. Once. Just enough to twitch.

She sighs — like she’s already wet, already full, and she’s just being polite by letting you watch.

The frame holds. No zoom. No cuts. It doesn’t need to.

She draws the viewer in like gravity. Like scent. Like the memory of a pussy you were never allowed to touch but will never forget. 

And you, behind the lens, behind the cock aching in your jeans, say nothing. You just breathe.

Because you’ve filmed a thousand asses. A million tits.

But this? This is iconography. This is the reason Vixen still exists.

-

The camera shifts. A sudden cut to sky.

A drone glides overhead, high above the Moroccan expanse. The land is cracked and golden, flat for miles, split only by a single ribbon of asphalt snaking through the middle of nowhere. Heat shimmers off the road in waves. The sun hangs low — late afternoon, merciless and perfect.

Then, in the distance. A roar.

Two girls. One machine.

A jet-black Yamaha eats the highway, its engine low and guttural like an animal held on a leash. Karina drives — hunched forward, eyes locked ahead, leather glinting under the sun. Her thighs grip the bike with effortless control. Wind lashes her hair, but nothing shakes her posture. She rides like she was born to command.

Behind her— Winter, pillion. Arms wrapped loosely around Karina’s waist, red fur billowing behind her like a flag of lust and rebellion. Her chin rests against Karina’s shoulder, eyes half-closed beneath tinted shades. The pose is intimate. Casual. Erotic by accident, and maybe on purpose. Her legs spread wide on either side of the seat, teasing glimpses of skin with every bump in the road.

The drone pulls wide. They slice through the stillness like sin on wheels.

Dust kicks up in their wake. The tail of Winter’s fur streams behind them, tangled with her hair. Karina’s boot taps the gear pedal — calculated, exact.

There’s no music. Just wind, engine, and silence.

Cut to a closer aerial shot — the bike banking slightly as the road curves. Winter leans with Karina, bodies in sync. One entity. One intent.

Then— A small, rusty building appears on the horizon. Lonely. Out of place. A garage. Your garage.

They slow. Kickstand down. Boots crunch gravel.

The bike settles. The dust hangs. The heat holds its breath.

They’ve arrived.

And you — just out of frame, inside, unaware — are seconds away from the moment everything changes.

-

The sound of an engine cuts through the stillness. Low. Approaching. Hungry.

You’re crouched beside an old oil drum outside your garage, hands slick with grease, sleeves rolled, chest glistening with sweat under the weight of a sun that refuses to quit. There's a wrench in your hand, a cigarette in your mouth, and a whole lot of nothing to look forward to.

Until you hear the bike. Then the tires. Then… them.

You don’t look right away. You feel them arrive.

You wipe your hands on a rag. Stand slowly. Stretch. And when you finally lift your head—

You see her first.

Karina. One leg over the bike, leather shorts creaking as she dismounts in one smooth, almost lazy motion. She doesn’t look at you. Not yet. She takes her time removing her gloves, finger by finger, slow and rhythmic. Her boots plant firm on the cracked ground, stance wide, spine tall. She drips authority — even as the sun tries to melt it off her.

Then, behind her— Winter. The red fur’s still on. Barely. Slung across one shoulder, the other completely bare. Her thighs swing around the bike like a dancer exiting the stage. She adjusts her shorts with one tug, lets her fingers trail the seat for no reason but to tease. She squints against the sun, eyes behind tinted glasses, her lips parted like she’s trying to remember how to breathe.

You take them both in.

One dark. One bright. One leather. One fur. Both fire.

They say nothing. Neither do you.

You don’t break character. None of you do. The camera’s rolling somewhere in the distance, catching every flicker of body language, every molecule of heat rising between you.

Karina lifts her head and finally meets your eyes.

Winter drapes the fur tighter across her chest and smirks.

You spit the cigarette out. Let it drop to the sand. Step forward.

And the world slows.

Three strangers. One desert. No words. Only lust coiling beneath the surface — pretending it isn’t.

But everyone watching? They know.

You step forward, slow and measured, every movement soaked in the kind of stillness that hurts to break. The heat presses down like a hand on the back of your neck.

You stop a few feet away, sweat rolling down your jaw, eyes dragging over the busted Yamaha they just rolled in on. You don’t look at them — not directly. Not yet.

Then Karina speaks.

Her voice is low, dry, almost amused. Like this whole situation is beneath her… or exactly where she wants to be.

"We broke down."

You nod once, slow.

“No shit.”

You crouch beside the bike, fingers brushing the metal, feigning curiosity — but your eyes cut to Winter as she shifts her weight, red fur dragging across her stomach like an invitation. Her lips glisten.

She’s the next to speak, tossing her glasses aside, voice light and teasing:

“No signal. No help.”

She leans against the wall, one leg bent, eyes on you like she already knows what you’ll say next.

You don’t look up. You don’t have to.

“And no water either, huh?”

Karina unzips the top of her vest — just slightly. A sheen of sweat clings to her chest.

“Just the sun.” She pauses, then adds — “And you.”

That makes you stand.

Your full height. Towering in the heat. Shirt stained with oil, chest rising. You finally meet their eyes — both of them. One sultry. One smug.

And you smile. Crooked. Dangerous.

“Well.” 

You drop the rag from your hand.

“Let’s see what I can fix first.”

You disappear inside the garage, the tension still clinging to your shoulders like sweat-soaked cloth.

The sound of the fridge opening is the only thing cutting through the still air. You grab two bottles — cold, wet, fresh. And when you step back out into the sun, the condensation’s already racing down the plastic like it knows where it wants to end up.

You toss one to each girl. No words. Just heat and implication.

Winter catches hers one-handed.

She doesn’t open it right away. She just presses the cold bottle to her exposed stomach — right at the crease above her shorts. The hiss she lets out is soft, almost inaudible, but the way her abs tighten? The camera catches everything.

She finally unscrews the cap and drinks — slow, messy, sinful.

Her lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle like it’s something else entirely. She gulps once, then tips it higher — and that’s when it happens:

The water misses her mouth on purpose.

It spills down her chin, rolls over her collarbone, and then slides… straight down the center of her bare midriff. Over every dip and ridge of her abs, trailing over that tight line that disappears into her shorts.

She doesn’t wipe it away. She lets it glisten.

Karina, meanwhile, doesn’t even drink.

Not at first. She opens the bottle, lifts it over her head — and pours.

A cold stream spills directly onto her chest, splashing across her cleavage and soaking the low-cut top that barely covers her. The fabric clings to her skin now, transparent in places, the fur-lined vest gaping open with every breath she takes.

The water trails between her breasts like it belongs there — like it knows that’s where every eye is locked. She finally takes a sip, mouth parted, eyes locked on yours.

She lowers the bottle slowly, droplets clinging to her lips before falling — one landing on the curve of her breast, catching the light like glass.

You haven’t moved. Neither has the camera. No one breathes.

The heat of the day is brutal. But this? This is fucking cruel.

And they know what they’re doing. They’re not just hydrating. They’re performing.

For you. For the lens. For the fantasy they’ve already started turning into reality.

And you?

You grip your wrench tighter. Because suddenly, fixing the bike is the last thing on your mind.

You drop your gaze to the Yamaha. Finally — something to touch that won’t make your cock twitch. Or so you hope.

You kneel beside the engine, resting one palm on the sun-warmed metal, the other gripping your wrench. You run through the motions. Belts. Chain. Fuel line. You could fix this in twenty minutes if you really tried — but you won’t. Not now.

Not with them watching you like that.

Karina’s eyes are on your arms. Winter’s licking condensation off her bottle cap.

You grunt, wipe a streak of grease on your forearm, and stand up slow.

“It’s fixable,” you say, wiping your hands on the rag. 

“But it’s gonna take a while.” 

You pause — let the tension stretch. 

“Gonna be some waiting involved.”

You say it casually, not even looking at them. And then Karina speaks, voice low, steady, laced with amused danger:

“Good.”

You glance up. She tilts her head just slightly, chest still glistening from the water, leather sticking to her curves like it’s afraid to let go.

“We’ve got nothing but time.”

You raise a brow. “That so?”

She nods, steps closer. Just one pace — enough for you to smell the sun on her skin. Her voice dips.

“Besides... waiting can be fun. If the company’s good.”

Winter chuckles, lounging back against a tool bench, twirling her bottle like it’s a cocktail.

“You don’t mind us hanging around, do you?”

You shrug, fighting the smirk rising at the corners of your mouth.

“Garage is open. Just don’t touch anything you can’t handle.”

Winter’s mouth parts in mock offense. “Oh, please. I can handle plenty.”

Karina runs a finger down her collarbone, dragging a droplet with it, eyes locked on yours.

“The question is, can you?”

Silence.

You toss the rag aside, hands on your hips.Your shirt’s clinging now — soaked at the chest, dirt at the hem, arms veined and flexed from holding yourself back.

You’re the mechanic. They’re the clients. But the way they’re circling you? You’re the one about to be stripped down.

-

You’re wiping your hands again, pretending to care about the chain tension, when Winter breaks the silence.

She’s poking around your workbench now, bent slightly at the waist, that red fur barely hanging on. Her ass sways with every step. She leans over to inspect a rusted bolt like she’s got a degree in mechanics.

“Hey,” she says, turning back to Karina with a sudden pout, “you got the cash?”

Karina, sitting sideways on a stool, licking a water droplet from her wrist, frowns.

“What? I thought you had it.”

Winter blinks. Shrugs.

They stare at each other. Then at you.

Karina crosses her legs, slow and smooth. The leather shorts creak.

“Shit,” Winter says with a grin, “we didn’t bring anything, huh?”

You straighten up. Toss the rag onto the bench.

“Nothing?”

Karina leans back. “Nothing that folds.” 

Then: “Nothing you’d accept, probably.”

Winter’s eyes sparkle. 

“Unless you take... alternative payments.”

You meet her gaze. Then Karina’s. Neither girl breaks eye contact. Neither girl looks sorry. The way they say it, it’s not an apology — it’s a proposal.

You scoff, half-laughing.

“So let me get this straight…”

You step closer. Not enough to crowd them — just enough to feel the heat radiating off Winter’s bare midriff.

“…You roll into my shop, broken down, no money, dressed like a fucking dream…”

Your eyes drag down Winter’s body. Up to Karina’s soaked top.

“…and now you want me to fix your bike… for what? A thank you?”

Winter’s lip catches between her teeth. Karina doesn’t blink.

“We’ll make it worth your time.”

You raise an eyebrow.

Winter steps forward, finally closing the space. Her bottle dangles from her fingers now, nearly empty. She lifts it slightly, trails the tip along your chest.

“We’re really… good at showing gratitude.”

Karina stands, stretching slow. Her top shifts. Her tits shift with it. She walks until she’s behind you, close enough for her breath to brush your neck.

“And you…” she murmurs, “look like someone who’s been alone out here for far too long.”

You grin, hands falling to your belt automatically.

“Well then…” You look between them. “…you’d better pay in full.”

There’s a beat. A silence so thick it feels like it wants to be broken.

Karina’s still behind you, body heat pressing faint against your back. Winter’s standing in front of you, her fingers ghosting over your belt buckle now, as if testing whether you’ll stop her — you won’t.

Then Winter tilts her head, glancing around the dusty garage.

“So…” she purrs, finger teasing your waistband, “…you got somewhere a little more…”

She leans in, whispers the last part just inches from your mouth—

“…fitting of the occasion?”

You open your mouth to answer, but you never get the chance.

Karina’s lips find your neck. Soft. Wet. Deliberate.

And at the same time— Winter kisses you. Hard.

Tongue before teeth. Her hand fists your shirt, dragging you down just enough to devour your mouth like she’s waited all damn day. Her kiss is messy, eager, soaked with teasing confidence. She kisses like she fucks — demanding.

Karina doesn’t wait. She steps around you, sliding her hand into your hair, and joins in.

It’s seamless. Natural. Like they’ve done this before. Like you were the only one who didn’t know the scene had already started.

Karina’s lips crash into the side of yours, tangling with Winter’s, all three of you pressed together now. Tongues clash, teeth graze, moans melt into each other.

Hands roam. Fur slides off. Leather creaks.

You taste sweetness on Winter’s tongue. Cold water on Karina’s lips.

Their bodies press into yours — Winter’s bare midriff grinding against your abs, Karina’s soaked chest flattening against your shoulder as her breath hitches into your mouth.

You groan into the kiss — low, real.

The tools. The bike. The desert. All of it vanishes.

You’re just a man. Caught between two former idols dressed like sex itself. And all three of you know — you’re not going to stop.

Karina pulls back first, lips flushed and swollen, breath warm on your cheek.

“So?” she says again, voice husky, glancing toward the back of your shop.

“Where’s the fucking bed?”

-

The door slams shut behind you.

Your boots hit the floor with a low thud. The silence inside your backroom is thick — save for the hum of a rattling fan, the whir of heat-stung electricity, and three breaths that sound nothing short of needy.

You drop onto the edge of the bed — wide, sun-drenched, the sheets still warm from the last time you lay there alone. Not today.

Winter’s already pulling off her boots. Karina’s hands are on the zipper of her top. You don’t speak. You just lean back on your elbows, spreading your legs slightly. Watching.

Winter steps forward first.

She peels the fur from her shoulders with a single shrug, letting it fall behind her like a dropped secret. Her skin is flushed from the sun, glistening — sweat tracing the delicate dip between her ribs. She pulls her crop top over her head, and when it lifts, her petite, tight frame is revealed in full.

She’s flat-stomached, hips narrow, no bra. Her breasts are small, firm, tipped with nipples already perked from the heat and anticipation. Her fingers hook into the waistband of those sinful little shorts. She eases them down slowly, letting the tight fabric resist — then give.

And beneath? Nothing. Clean-shaven. Slick with heat.

The kind of body that doesn’t need to be loud to be obscene. The kind that makes you grip the sheets for control.

She kicks the shorts aside and stands there — nude, bare feet on concrete, sweat dripping between her thighs, waiting for your reaction like it’s part of her job.

But you can’t speak yet. Because Karina is moving.

Karina unzips her vest slow.

She’s all curve and confidence — hips that roll with every step, breasts too big for modesty, and a stare that makes you feel like you’re the one being undressed.

When the zipper parts, her chest spills forward — heavy, glistening, freckled with sweat. Her nipples are thick, flushed, begging for lips. Her tits bounce softly as she shrugs the vest off, letting it slide down her arms with lazy grace.

No bra. No rush.

She undoes her shorts and lets them fall. No panties. Just a thick, trimmed strip of dark hair above her slit — a little triangle, tasteful but raw. Something that says: real woman. Untouched by shame.

Winter’s clean. Minimal. Drenched. Karina’s plush. Voluptuous. Dripping. Both naked. Both sweaty. Both staring at you now.

You take in every inch. Winter’s thighs glistening. Karina’s breasts rising with her breath. The heat. The scent. The pure fucking weight of this moment.

And then Winter speaks — soft, smug.

“Well?”

She steps closer, fingers grazing your knee.

“We’ve stripped. Your turn, mechanic.”

You don’t move. You just sit there, bare-chested, boots still on, jeans still clinging to your thighs — but ready. Your cock’s already stiffening beneath the denim, throbbing, straining. It won’t be subtle. You know that. And you know they’re about to find out.

Karina kneels on the bed behind you first, lips brushing your neck, her tits pressing hot against your shoulders as she whispers:

“Let us.”

And Winter is already crouching between your legs, palms dragging up your thighs, knuckles grazing the shape of your cock through the fabric. Her tongue peeks out over her bottom lip.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, “I can feel it pulsing.”

Your shirt goes first. Karina peels it off with slow reverence, her fingertips dragging along your abs as she lifts it over your head. She pauses only to kiss your spine — soft, wet — before tossing it to the floor. Winter pops the button on your jeans, tugging the zipper down with agonizing slowness. The head of your cock jumps under the fabric.

She grins.

“He’s ready.”

They slide the jeans down together — Karina from behind, Winter tugging from the front, both hands gliding along your thighs as the denim peels away.

And then — Your cock springs free.

Heavy. Thick. Leaking. 

It slaps against Winter’s cheek with a wet, meaty smack. The contact echoes in the tiny room. She jerks back slightly — eyes wide, mouth parting.

Karina looks over your shoulder.

They both go silent.

Winter’s hand flies up to catch it — fingers wrapping around the base instinctively. She exhales — sharp, shaky — and looks up at you like she just saw the devil.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers. Your cock throbs in her grip. She strokes once, slow. Her eyes glaze. “It’s so… heavy.”

Karina slides around, settling beside her now, one hand resting on your thigh. Her voice is low, reverent.

She leans in and inhales. Moans.

“It smells like you haven’t cum in days.”

Winter brings her other hand up to your shaft, lifting it slightly, thumbing under the head, watching it twitch.

“It’s hot.” She drags her palm along the length. “Veiny. Fucking beautiful.”

Karina moves closer — her tits pressing against your side again, sweat beading along her cleavage.

“It’s perfect,” she murmurs. Then, right into your ear. “And we haven’t even tasted it yet.”

You sit there, cock pulsing in their hands, watching two ex-idols — naked, dripping — in awe of your dick like it’s something holy.

You smirk.

“You sure you can handle it?”

Winter kisses the tip once, smearing precum across her lips.

“You’re about to find out.”

Karina moves first.

She lowers herself slowly between your spread legs, her tits brushing your thighs as she slides into position. Her hair sticks to her flushed skin, sweat glistening along her collarbones, but her eyes never leave your cock.

Winter shifts beside her — the contrast striking. Where Karina’s all plush curves and dripping confidence, Winter’s tight, lithe, buzzing with restrained hunger. Her lips are already parted, tongue flicking against the air like she can taste your precum without even touching it.

Karina licks the underside of your cock first — one long, slow stripe from base to tip. Her tongue is warm, wide, practiced. She moans quietly as she finishes the stroke, savoring your taste like she’s just taken the first bite of something forbidden.

Winter’s mouth wraps around your head. No warning. No hesitation.

Just a wet, obscene suck — her lips sealing tight, tongue swirling the sensitive ridge. She makes a sound the moment you hit the roof of her mouth, something between a whimper and a moan, eyes fluttering shut like your cock soothes her.

You exhale. Hard.

Karina kisses the base. Then your balls. Then lower. Her tongue is everywhere, warm and wet, tracing your veins like a roadmap. She nuzzles against you, moaning as her cheek brushes your shaft, her tits squished between your thighs now as she licks underneath while Winter sinks deeper.

Winter bobs her head slowly, her lips stretching tight, jaw trembling as more of your cock fills her mouth. Spit leaks out the corners of her lips, dribbling down your length — onto Karina’s tongue.

Karina moans at the mess. She licks it up. Keeps eye contact.

Winter gags slightly as your cock taps the back of her throat, but she doesn’t pull back — she pushes deeper, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes as her fingers grip your thighs tight for leverage.

You groan, hands fisting in the sheets.

They’re working together. Like they’ve done this before. Like they planned it.

Karina sucks one of your balls into her mouth, tongue swirling, moaning at the taste. Winter pulls back slowly, your cock drenched in spit, a string trailing from her lips to your tip.

“Fuck,” she pants, stroking you twice, eyes wide. “It’s even bigger in my throat.”

Karina wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then leans forward.

“Let me see what it tastes like with her spit on it.”

She kisses the tip, licking up the remaining drool, and then pushes you past her lips — slow, tight, warm.

Winter licks her lips beside her, moaning as she watches Karina’s lips stretch wide, your cock vanishing between those heavy tits.

Two idols. One cock. One shared hunger. You don’t move. You just let them worship.

What starts clean, controlled, shared, sacred. Now becomes fucking filthy.

Winter’s mouth dives back onto your cock, cheeks hollowing out as she bobs faster, deeper, spit leaking freely around the seal of her lips. Her tongue flattens underneath your shaft, pressing hard as she sucks like you’re feeding her oxygen. She moans into it — low and guttural — her throat tightening every time your tip taps the back.

Karina’s not waiting anymore.

She’s licking everything Winter can’t reach. Tongue dragging along your spit-slicked base, balls, even your thighs — tasting the mess, making the mess. Her hair clings to her sweat-damp face, and her tits hang heavy beneath her, swaying with every breath. Her moans grow louder — not for show, but because she wants this.

Winter gags. Once. Then again. She doesn’t stop.

Your cock is soaked now. Shiny. Veiny. Twitching.

Drool runs down your shaft in strings, dripping off your balls and pooling at the base. The entire lower half of your body is wet — with their spit, their need.

Karina pushes Winter’s head lower. Winter grunts, eyes squeezing shut as your cock buries in her throat.

Karina kisses your shaft right beside her lips. Then your balls. Then Winter’s cheek.

You groan — loudly.

“Fuck—just like that…”

Winter pulls off with a gasp, saliva connecting her lips to your cock in thick strands. She coughs once, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then laughs.

“God, you taste so good it’s making me stupid.”

Karina smiles, takes over without a word — and spits on your cock before she swallows it halfway. No buildup. Just greed.

The room echoes with wet, disgusting sounds — gagging, moaning, kissing, slurping — like a symphony of ruin. You can barely see your own cock anymore through the shine of spit and lips.

Karina sucks you off deep, slowly twisting her mouth as her hand jerks the base. Winter licks your balls again, kissing them, whispering into your skin:

“Give it to us… come on…”

They're not in control anymore. Not with the way they’re fighting for your cock now. Not with the way Winter’s grinding her bare pussy into the bed between your legs. Not with Karina drooling as your head pops out of her mouth, lips glossy, tits heaving, a string of spit connecting her chin to your shaft.

You reach for both of them — one hand on the back of each head. Stroking their heads, a nod to how well they're sucking you off. 

You can’t take it anymore. All that spit. All that heat. All that fucking begging.

You reach down, one hand fisting into Winter’s hair, the other gripping Karina’s soaked strands. You pull them both back from your cock — not roughly, but with purpose. Their mouths are open, their faces glazed with arousal and saliva. Lips swollen. Breathing uneven.

“Up,” you growl, voice rough and low.

They obey.

You guide them up onto the bed — Karina first, then Winter, both crawling, sweaty and naked, moving like they’re hypnotized. Like the taste of your cock only made them hungrier.

Karina settles back against the headboard, legs parted slightly, tits rising with every shaky breath. Her chest is soaked — water, sweat, spit — it doesn’t matter. Her nipples are hard, begging to be sucked. Her trimmed pussy glistens in the half-light, lips swollen, glistening with heat.

Winter kneels beside her, smaller, tighter, eyes half-lidded as she looks at you like she needs to be used. Her thighs are sticky with sweat. Her pussy’s bare, soft folds flushed pink and twitching with every breath. A single bead of slick drips down as she spreads her knees wider — an invitation.

You crawl between them. Predator mode.

You don’t ask. You just take.

You go to Winter first.

Push her back gently, her body arching for you. You lower your mouth, slow, your breath hot on her inner thighs. She shivers — not from cold, but from tension, from the hunger finally crashing over the edge.

Your tongue flicks against her folds — one quick, precise stroke.

She moans, high and breathy. “F-fuck—”

Then you feast.

You dive in, dragging your tongue through her pussy like it’s your first drink after days in the desert. Her taste is clean, sweet, but laced with heat and sweat and raw want. You flatten your tongue against her clit, then suck, slow and deep. Her hips jerk. Her fingers tangle in your hair.

She whimpers, rolls her hips against your face, her thighs shaking already — and you don’t stop. You devour her.

Karina watches. Breathing harder. Hand slipping between her own thighs now, her fingers spreading herself open for you as you wreck Winter’s cunt.

“God, the way you’re eating her…” she moans, “…you’re fucking addicted.”

You are.

Winter’s thighs clamp against your ears. She squirms, gasping your name, eyes wide, lips trembling. You only stop when her hips start jerking too much to ride — and even then, you press a final kiss to her clit and grin.

Then you crawl toward Karina. She’s waiting.

Her thighs are parted. Her hand is already working slow circles over her clit. Her tits are heavy and slick, rising with every breath. Her eyes lock with yours.

“Come on,” she whispers, “taste a real fucking woman.”

You don’t hesitate. You bury your face in her pussy like it’s your mission. Her moan hits instantly — deep, rich, from her gut. She smells like sex. Tastes like want. A little sweat. A little perfume. And pure fucking heat.

Her bush is soft, trimmed just enough to feel natural. Your tongue pushes past her folds, lapping up everything she gives you. Your nose presses into her mound, and you groan into her — so deep her thighs shiver around your ears.

Winter watches this time. “That’s it, Karina… let him ruin you…”

Karina arches her back, shoves your face in deeper. “Eat it. Fucking eat it.”

You moan into her pussy, shaking your head, slapping your tongue over her clit like you’re starving — and the sound of your mouth on her is obscene.

You’re not careful. You’re not polite. You feast like you deserve this. Because you do.

She’s lounging back on the bed, legs slightly parted, still catching her breath from how deep you had just been, her huge tits rising and falling like waves of heat.

You crawl toward her, eyes locked on the massive, sweat-drenched mounds of flesh that bounce slightly with every shift of the mattress. Her top had been torn away earlier, and now the full view of her breasts — round, heavy, flushed pink at the tips — sits before you like a sacred offering.

“Fuck… these tits, Karina,” you mutter, voice low, hoarse with need, “they were made to be worshipped. Fucking pillows of pure lust.”

She smirks, chest heaving. “Then get to it, director. Make the scene worth watching.”

You don’t waste a second.

Your hands cradle the weight of her breasts — warm, soft, full, heavy enough to overflow in your palms. You squeeze them slowly, letting your fingers sink into the pliant flesh as she gasps, arching slightly, offering more. You lower your head and drag your tongue along the bottom curve, up to her nipple, flicking it with slow, teasing laps.

“Fuck—” she hisses through her teeth, “do it rougher. You know I love it.”

You obey. You latch on. Your lips wrap around her nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking wildly now, and her body jolts beneath you. Your spit starts to gloss the curves, and soon your mouth is moving between both tits — slurping, kissing, nipping. You bury your face between them, groaning into her cleavage, your hands still squeezing, kneading, worshipping like she’s your goddess.

And maybe she is. Right now, both of them are.

You glance to the side, and Winter is watching. Cheeks flushed. Mouth parted. Waiting.

You crawl over to her, slower this time. She’s lying back, legs pulled up, arms behind her head like she’s waiting to be tasted again. Her chest is smaller than Karina’s — but just as perfect. Perky. Tight. Sensitive as hell.

You hover over her, lips just above the swell of her left breast.

“You want your turn, baby?” you whisper, breath brushing her skin.

She nods, biting her lip. “Been wanting your mouth on me all day.”

You lower yourself and suck her nipple in one slow motion, pulling it deep into your mouth. She gasps. Your tongue circles, traces the delicate pink tip, then drags downward along her taut skin, leaving a wet trail of spit down to her ribs.

She moans louder. You switch to the other breast, grazing it with your teeth this time before sucking gently. Your hand slides up to cup her chest, pressing the soft weight against your palm as your lips move with purpose — slow, wet kisses, teasing, praising, taking your time.

Karina watches, stroking her inner thigh, whispering filth with a smirk. 

“You like that don’t you? His mouth on your perky little tits, nibbling like its candy?”

“God — fuck! Yes!”

Your cock is beyond hard now — it’s furious, angry with need. Slick from their mouths, red with lust, twitching so hard the tip jerks in the air like it’s got a heartbeat of its own. You’re panting, chest glistening, veins popping, and every inch of you screams for the ruin of Karina’s body.

You crawl behind her.

“On your stomach,” you rasp.

Karina turns her head with a smirk, already moving. “Mmm… yes, sir. Use me.”

She flips over slowly, deliberately — her hips rolling like syrup, spine arching so her tits sway heavy and loose before she plants herself down, ass up, knees wide, pussy spread and glistening. The curve of her back is carved like a sculpture, sweat dripping along her spine, sliding down her crack. Her lips are swollen, glistening, pulsing.

“Holy fuck,” you groan, voice deep and hungry. “Look at that wet fucking hole. You’re begging for cock, aren’t you?”

“Been begging since I walked in,” Karina huffs, pushing back slightly, letting her pussy kiss the underside of your shaft. “You gonna fuck me, or are you just gonna talk about it, daddy?”

You slap her ass — hard — and she jerks, a moan spilling from her mouth.

Winter moans beside you, her fingers between her legs again, watching with lust-drowned eyes. “Fuck, fuck… she’s dripping down her thighs. She wants that cum. Stuff her.”

You grip Karina’s hips, line your cock up with her entrance, and just rest the head there — thick, flushed, leaking — smearing her folds.

She shudders. “Don’t tease. Put that big fucking cock in me now. Fuck me stupid.”

You press in.

Hot. Wet. Tight. A perfect fucking grip. Her cunt stretches open with resistance — then sucks you in greedily. Inch by inch, her walls cling, swallowing your cock like she doesn’t want to give it back.

“Ffffuck, you’re huge—” Karina sobs, voice already ragged.

Her back arches more. Her pussy flutters around you.

You bury all the way in. Balls slapping against her soaked clit. The room fills with a loud, filthy squelch.

“Oh my god… it’s all in. It’s all fucking in.”

Winter bites her lip, watching. “Shit… she’s gripping you like she wants to milk your cock dry.”

You lean forward, growl in Karina’s ear. “This pussy’s gonna remember me. You hear me? I’m gonna fuck you so deep your brain’s gonna leak out your pussy.”

“Yes—yes—fuck me dumb, please, just fucking ruin me—”

You pull back. Then slam forward. The sound is animalistic — slap, slap, slap — as your hips collide with her soaked, bouncing ass.

“Take it. Take that fat fucking cock, you cum-hungry bitch.”

Karina moans into the mattress. Loud. Sloppy. Worshipful.

Winter rubs herself furiously, watching your cock disappear into Karina again and again. “Breed her. You hear me? Fill her up till she’s leaking. I wanna watch your cum pour out of her ruined cunt.”

You fuck her harder. But with the same slow, patient pace.

“You want that? Huh? Want me to pump you full, fuck it so deep it shoots up into your belly?”

“Yes! Yes, please! Fuck, I want your cum!” Karina sobs, her legs trembling.

Your cock pistons in and out, coated in slick, Karina’s walls fluttering around you like she’s already on the edge.

You grope her heavy tits, pull her back by the throat, spit in her mouth.

“Good girl. Fucking perfect slut.”

Winter kneels beside you now, fingers soaked, eyes wild. “Can I cum while you fuck her? Please, let me. Watching you split her open is making me gush.”

“Get on my face next. Gonna make both of you cum. One with my cock, one with my mouth. You greedy fucktoys ready for that?”

“Yes, please—please, please, I’m gonna cum—” Karina chokes, her voice lost in moans.

Karina moans into the sheets, her hips rocking back into your slow, deep thrusts, her pussy choking your cock like it’s never letting you go. Every time you bottom out, she gasps, back arching, her cunt dripping so much you can feel it sliding down your balls.

“F-fuck… daddy… your cock’s so deep—fucking my womb—fuck, fuck—!”

She’s babbling. Drenched. You can feel her pussy flutter around you with every thrust, clenching like it’s begging to be ruined.

Then— Movement. Above you.

Winter.

Climbing over your face, thighs already slick, pussy practically steaming as she straddles you. Her scent slams into you like heat — sharp, needy, addictive. She looks down at you with a smirk, eyes half-lidded, flushed and feral.

“Eat me till I scream. Please” she whispers, cunt hovering just above your mouth. “Fucking mean it.”

You just open your mouth. And she drops.

Her bare, dripping cunt mashes down onto your face, and she moans. Loud. Desperate. Instantly grinding, her pussy smearing itself across your tongue, wet enough to flood your mouth.

“Ohhh fuck yes—yes, that’s it—eat it, you fucking perv—suck my pussy—don’t fucking stop—”

You devour her. Tongue deep in her slit, lips wrapped around her clit. Your nose buried in her wetness, chin soaked. Every lick makes her twitch. Every suck makes her whimper.

Below, Karina gasps when your hips slam harder — deeper — your rhythm shifting as your face gets fucked. She glances back, hair wild, sweat dripping, watching Winter ride your mouth with abandon.

“Fuck… fuck… are you really getting your face sat on while your cock’s still stretching me open?” she breathes. “God, you’re such a slut for us…”

Winter laughs breathlessly, grinding her hips. “He loves it. He lives for it. Look at him — fucking choking on my pussy while he pumps your tight little cunt full…”

“Feels like he’s gonna cum,” Karina moans, cunt clenching again. “I can feel him twitching inside…”

Winter leans forward, pressing down harder, her clit rubbing your nose raw. “Don’t you fucking dare cum yet,” she growls, gasping through her teeth. “You hold it. You hold it until my pussy explodes on your face.”

Karina throws her head back. “God—yes—keep him edged. Make him earn that load. Make him beg to breed us—”

You moan into Winter’s cunt — tongue swirling, sucking, desperate. You’re drowning in pussy. Your cock’s buried. Your mouth’s buried. You’re nothing but their toy now — their fuckmachine.

Winter’s moans hit a fever pitch.

“FUCK—yes—tongue my hole—you filthy little freak, make me cum all over that pretty face—”

Karina’s voice is a trembling gasp. “Breed me—fuck me full while you tongue her. Fucking knock me up—make me drip—”

And you? You’re gone. Devouring cunt. Plowing cunt. Moaning like a beast.

Because their holes were made to ruin you. And you were made to be ruined.

Winter is riding your face like it’s her only salvation — her pussy slick and twitching against your tongue, thighs quivering around your head, her moans getting higher.

Karina’s moaning beneath you, your cock still deep inside her, slow strokes keeping her wide open, stretched and stuffed full while your mouth ruins the girl above her.

And then it happens—

Their hands find each other. Winter leans forward. Karina tilts her head. Their lips meet. Wet. Open. Desperate.

Their kiss is messy — spit-slick and tongue-heavy. You hear it even beneath Winter’s moans, the slurping of two girls making out while one rides your tongue and the other takes your cock. Karina's fingers slip into Winter’s hair, tugging. Winter whimpers into her mouth, grinding harder into your face.

“He’s so fucking good with his mouth,” Karina breathes into Winter’s lips. “Feel that tongue? He’s not even using his fingers yet.”

“I c-can’t…” Winter stutters, her breath shaking. “He’s gonna make me—”

You pull her hips down harder. Suck her clit into your mouth. Flatten your tongue and start flicking—fast, precise, cruel.

Winter screams.

“FUCK—right there, yes—oh my fucking god—”

Her thighs clamp tight around your head. You don’t let up. You want her to break. You want to own her orgasm.

Karina’s still kissing her, whispering into her gasps now:

“Come on, baby. Give it to him.”

“Be a good girl and soak his fucking face.”

“He’s hungry. Can’t you feel it?”

You moan into Winter’s cunt in response — and she shakes.

“He’s… he’s eating me like he needs it—fuck, fuck—don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”

Your tongue swirls. Your lips close in. You suck. Then flick again — relentless, expert, merciless.

And you growl against her clit:

“Come for me.” 

“Messy little idol cunt on my face. Now.”

That’s all it takes. Winter explodes.

Her body convulses above you, thighs trembling violently, pussy grinding into your mouth as her orgasm hits hard. She cries out, her voice cracking mid-moan, hands gripping Karina’s hair as she sobs out her climax into her best friend’s mouth.

“YES—YES—I’m fucking cumming—oh my god—”

You drink it all in. Every drop. Every twitch. Every broken whimper.

Karina kisses her through it, moaning softly as she strokes her shaking body.

You pull back — face soaked, chin dripping. You smirk. You speak.

“One down.”

You slam your cock back into Karina.

“Who's next?”

Karina smirks.

“Sweet of you to treat her so well…” she purrs, voice low and teasing, breathless from being edged and ignored. She spreads her legs wider under you, grinding her slick pussy up your shaft, milking you with every subtle twitch.  “…but I haven’t fucking cum yet.”

You look down at her. Her body’s glowing — tits heaving, nipples stiff and flushed, her cunt clinging to your cock like it’s starving. The smirk on her lips is cocky, but her eyes? Her eyes are begging.

You lean in close — lips brushing hers, voice deep and thick with lust. “Then let’s fix that.”

Your hands grip her thighs. Hard. Possessive. You push them back — folding her completely — her knees pinned against her shoulders, ankles hooked by your hands, her drenched pussy spread wide around your shaft. Everything exposed. Everything yours.

A full mating press. Breeding position. No escape.

“F-fuck—!” she gasps, voice pitchy as the new angle buries you deeper than before.

You don’t move yet. You just stay there — cock fully stuffed inside her, throbbing. Her walls clamp around you in pulses. She’s twitching already. Her tits jiggle with every micro-movement, nipples so hard they ache.

Then— Winter appears beside you, her lips wet, her cheeks flushed, eyes hazy with lust. She smirks.

“Let me help,” she whispers.

One hand slides between Karina’s thighs — her fingers slick, confident — and finds her clit instantly.

Karina screams. A high, cracked moan that rips from her throat.

You start to thrust. Slow. Deep. Deliberate. Each stroke fucks her deeper than she’s ever taken. Your pelvis grinds into Winter’s fingers on every stroke, the double stimulation making Karina’s legs shake in your grip.

“F-fuck—fuck—GOD—don’t stop—oh my god, don’t fucking stop—”

Winter leans in, kisses her neck. “Feel that?” she purrs. “You’re being used, baby. Fucked so deep you’re drooling.”

Her other hand grabs a tit, squeezing it tight, rubbing her thumb over Karina’s hard nipple. You growl into Karina’s ear, panting. “You thought I forgot this tight little slutty cunt?”

Thrust — deep, hard. “You thought I wasn’t gonna wreck you in front of her?” 

Thrust — sharper, louder. “You’re gonna fucking cum on this cock like the good cumdrunk bitch you are.”

Karina’s moans get louder, messier — her voice catching on every word.

“His cock’s in my stomach—fuck—I can’t—I can’t take it—Winter—he’s splitting me open—oh my fucking god—”

Winter’s fingers work faster. She’s rubbing that clit in tight little circles now, her breath hot against Karina’s ear.

“Do it, slut,” she whispers. “Show me how you cum when he breaks you.”

You snarl. “Cream on this cock. Now. Let her watch you fall apart.”

Karina screams. Her eyes roll back. Her body jerks, trembles — then collapses into a full-body orgasm.

Her pussy milks your cock like it’s trying to suck the cum straight out, squeezing in violent waves. Her moans become cries, then sobs, her mind fucking shattered.

“I’m—cumming—I’m CUMMING—FUCK—it’s too much—YES—YES—YES—!”

Winter doesn’t stop. You don’t stop. You pound her through it.

Your cock’s swelling, balls tightening, every thrust a promise of cum. Karina’s pussy is spasming around you like it needs to be filled. She’s chanting your name. Winter’s whispering filth in her ear.

Karina is trembling beneath you — legs folded, body wrecked, pussy still convulsing in messy, twitching aftershocks. Her orgasm’s not over. Not really. It’s still crawling up her spine in pulses, flickering like a fire that refuses to die. Her chest is soaked with sweat — dripping between her tits, running down her stomach in slow, sticky trails that glisten under the lights.

You’re still inside her. Still balls-deep. Cock swollen. So hard it hurts. So close you’re shaking.

Winter’s beside her now, licking her fingers — the same ones she used to rub Karina’s clit raw — and watching you with glazed eyes, lips parted, skin flushed.

“You gonna dump that load in her?” she breathes, voice sultry, teasing, cruel. “Gonna cum so deep the whole crew hears it dripping out of her?”

She leans closer. Her tongue flicks the corner of her mouth.

“Let them watch you fucking breed her. Let them see it all.”

You growl — teeth gritted, every muscle tense.

“Yeah.”

Karina hears it. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and ruined. Her lips are slack, trembling, her body begging for it.

“Do it,” she whispers. “Fucking fill me. Stuff this pussy full of your cum.”

You slam in once. Twice. A third time — and stay there. Deep. Pressed to the hilt.

And then you explode. Hot. Thick. Endless.

Your cock throbs violently as it pumps load after filthy load into her stretched pussy — ropes of cum spilling deep, pressing against her womb, overflowing with heat and need.

Karina gasps. Her whole body arches off the bed.

“Ohhh fuck—yes—yes—fill me up—give me all of it—fuck—!”

Her cunt clamps around you — like it’s trying to suck out every last drop. The pressure is so intense it pushes cum back out — leaking around your cock, pouring down her ass in white, sloppy rivulets.

Winter moans.

 “Jesus—look at that fucking load. That’s not a creampie. That’s a fucking dump truck. That’s illegal in five countries.”

She crawls between Karina’s legs, eyes wide, staring at the mess.

“It’s gushing out of her…” she whispers.

You don’t move. You just stay there. Still pulsing inside her. Still leaking.

The camera’s still rolling. Catching everything. Every spasm of your cock. Every droplet sliding down her thighs. Every twitch of her ruined, cumstuffed pussy.

Karina’s breathing in shudders, moaning under her breath.

“God… I’m so full… I can feel it dripping inside me…”

Winter kisses her cheek softly, then drags two fingers through the sloppy flood leaking out. She brings them to her mouth. Sucks them clean.

“Mmm. You taste like him now,” she murmurs, licking her fingers with slow, pornographic delight. “They’re gonna replay this. Loop it. Slow-mo it. Stroke to it for years.”

She dips back down, gathering another scoop of cum, eyes locked on yours as she smears it across Karina’s pussy lips.

“You sure you’re done?”

You grin. Cock still inside. Still hard.

You’re not done. Not until Winter gets her turn. Not until both of them are leaking side by side. Not until the whole set reeks of sweat and sex and you. Because this isn’t a scene. This is a legacy. You just made art.

You finally pull out.

Slow. Heavy. Your cock drags out of Karina’s stretched, ruined pussy with a deep, wet squelch — her hole clinging to you until the very end. One last twitch in your shaft sends another fat bead of cum splattering across her inner thigh. The camera follows it all, locked in: the gaping hole, the slick mess, the raw aftermath of your load buried deep.

Winter gasps beside you, eyes locked on the swollen, red, open slit. “Oh my god…” she whispers. “You fucking wrecked her.”

Karina’s chest is rising fast, tits slick and jiggling with every tiny tremor that runs through her thighs. Her hole is twitching. Her body’s buzzing. Her mind’s still shattered.

And then — without a word — She spreads her legs wider. Bends one knee. And pushes. You watch. Winter watches. The camera watches.

Her pussy flutters once— Then the flood begins.

A thick, hot, milky stream of cum gushes out of her used hole. It slides between her folds, over her slit, past her stretched rim, leaking in slow, heavy pulses. Rope after rope — your load — pouring from her pussy like she’s milking it out for the audience.

Karina gasps. “Ohhh fuck…” she moans, eyes fluttering. “There’s so much in me… it just keeps coming…”

She looks directly at the camera — flushed, panting — and smiles.

“He bred me so deep it’s still pouring out…”

Another thick drip slides over her twitching clit. A string clings to her folds like webbing. One droplet slides down her crack and over her asshole, catching the studio lights perfectly as it glistens and drips.

Winter’s hand is between her thighs now — two fingers teasing her pussy as she watches with wide, hungry eyes.

“That’s… that’s fucking obscene,” she breathes. “It’s dripping out like her pussy’s a cum faucet…”

You kneel beside them — cock still rock-hard, glazed in slick, painted in white — watching the mess you left leak out of Karina like you designed it to happen. She groans softly as another squirt pushes out, pussy lips parting to let another sloppy flood pour across her ass.

Winter lets out a breathless laugh. “You didn’t just fuck her… you bred her on camera. You dumped enough in her for three goddamn scenes.”

“Can’t fucking help it when she looks this hot.”

Karina looks down between her legs, the whole mess still spilling. Then she tilts her head back. Eyes into the lens. And says, with a smirk. “Make sure they see all of it.”

She curls her fingers around her lips and spreads herself open. Her gaping pussy yawns wide — cum-stained, twitching, glistening like a used toy. Another heavy drip falls.

The camera will see all of it. Every drop. Every twitch. Every creamy inch of what you did to her.

Because this isn’t just a fuck. It’s a statement. And the message is clear: Her idol pussy was bred for real.

Karina’s still spread out beside you — flushed and fucked dumb, her pussy leaking your load in lazy, creamy drips. Her thighs twitch every now and then, little aftershocks rippling through her. One hand traces slow, messy circles through the cum staining her slit. Her other hand? Still between her tits, massaging lazily as her body glows with afterglow.

But Winter? Winter’s burning.

She’s at the edge of the bed, legs open, fingers pressed to her soaked, untouched pussy — watching your cock like it’s the only goddamn thing that exists. Her chest rises in short, needy gasps. Her clit’s swollen, her folds glistening, her juices smeared across her thighs. You can see the way her asshole flutters every time your shaft throbs.

You crawl toward her — cock heavy, still wet, still dripping Karina’s slick and your cum. Her eyes never leave it. You cup her jaw. Tilt her chin. Make her look at you.

“Your turn.” Her lips part — a shaky breath escapes. “Y-Yeah…?”

You lean in close. Your voice drops, deep and dangerous, breath hot against her ear.

“You want it in that tight little pussy…” Your hand slides down — two fingers teasing her clit, tracing over her soaked entrance. Her thighs jerk. She gasps. “…or do you want to feel me in your ass?”

She whimpers — a sharp, desperate sound. Her whole body clenches.

You pull back, locking eyes. 

“Say it.” Your cock presses against her lower belly — the weight of it unmistakable. “Pussy or ass, Winter. Where do you want this cock?”

You slap your shaft against her navel — a wet, heavy smack — just so she feels how deep it's going to go.

Karina watches through half-lidded eyes, her fingers spreading her messy pussy open lazily as she smirks.

“Pick wisely,” she murmurs. “He doesn’t pull punches.”

Winter shudders. Then she smiles. Wicked. Knowing. Filthy.

“I want…” She leans in close. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t stutter. “My ass.”

The words hit like a detonation. Her voice breathy, trembling, sultry.

“You wanna feel tight?” she purrs. “I want you to fight your way in. I want you to hurt me with it.”

Your cock twitches violently — leaking from the tip. Karina lets out a breathy moan, fingers circling her clit again.

“She’s fucking filthy,” she gasps. “Make sure the camera gets her little hole when it starts opening for you…”

Winter shifts onto her knees. Proud. Slow. On display.

She turns away — small, toned frame folding into a perfect arch. Ass up, back dipped, legs spread.

Then she reaches back. Both hands grab her cheeks and spread.

Deliberately. Slowly. Seductively. Her asshole’s tight. Pink. Bare. Clean. Clenching around nothing. She looks over her shoulder — eyes half-lidded, lips parted.

“You sure you don’t want the pussy?” she teases.

You don’t speak. You grab her hips. Spit on your cock — thick, heavy — and let it drip onto her rim.

Then you rub it in. Slow circles. Letting your tip smear it across her entrance. Letting her feel it. She gasps, hole twitching.

“F-fuck… it’s so big… you’re not gonna fit…”

You line up. Push just the tip. Her hole resists — clenched tight — then begins to stretch, trembling as you press harder. Winter moans — her voice high, breathy.

“Let them see it…” she whimpers. “Let the whole world watch you wreck my ass…”

You press in deeper. Her asshole yields. Slow. Painful. Beautiful.

The head pops inside. She screams into the sheets.

“GOD—f-fuck—he’s splitting me open—!”

Karina is panting now, fingering herself furiously as she stares at the scene.

“Look at her…” she moans. “That’s not an ass — that’s a fucking vice grip. He’s not even halfway in…”

You groan — long, guttural — as your cock sinks another inch into Winter’s unbearably tight hole.

She sobs. Moans. Pushes back.

“More… give me more, daddy… rip my fucking hole open…”

And you give it to her.

Because that’s what she begged for. That’s what the camera’s rolling for. That’s what every viewer’s gonna replay on mute, slow, frame-by-frame.

Winter’s getting every fucking inch. And she’s going to thank you for it.

You’re halfway in.

Winter’s asshole is clamping down like a fucking vice — sucking your cock in inch by inch, spasming with heat and resistance, like her body can’t decide whether to fight you or beg for more. She’s panting hard, back arched deep, arms trembling as she fists the sheets beneath her.

“F-fuck… you’re splitting me open… I can feel every vein—”

You growl and grip her hips, your thumbs spreading her ass wide so the camera catches it all — the stretch, the slick, the abuse. Your cock shoves forward with brutal intent, pushing past that tight, twitching resistance until you feel her hole pop open — and then you bottom out.

Winter screams.

“YES—yes—fuck—all the way—I can feel it inside my guts—!”

But you’re not the only one moving now. The bed shifts. Warm fingers drag across your back. Soft, teasing. Karina.

She slides in beside Winter, her flushed, cum-drenched body curling close, her breath hot on Winter’s neck. Her hand slips lower — across Winter’s inner thigh, slow and deliberate — until it slides between her legs.

“Don’t forget this sweet little hole,” Karina whispers. Her fingers press to Winter’s soaked slit. “She squirted on your face, but this pussy’s still fucking needy…”

Winter lets out a sobbing moan.

“Y-yes—please—fill me both ways—wreck me—fuck—please—”

Karina plunges in. Two fingers, knuckles-deep. Instantly curling into that sensitive spot and grinding.

And Winter breaks.

Your cock is stuffed in her ass. Karina’s fingers are buried in her cunt. And Winter’s trapped between you — shaking, crying out, melting.

You pull back.

Thrust.

Her ass ripples around you, clenching like it’s desperate to swallow you whole. Her pussy tightens too — Karina’s fingers pumping deep, her thumb flicking her swollen clit like she’s trying to shatter her.

Karina leans in, licking Winter’s ear, her voice thick with lust:

“You feel that, baby? He’s so deep in your ass… I can feel him pressing through your pussy walls…”

Winter wails — hips bucking back into both of you, drool spilling onto the sheets.

“BREED ME—fucking breed my ass—stuff it full—please—make it leak—”

You snarl and start slamming into her — balls slapping Karina’s wrist with every brutal thrust, the sound of wet flesh filling the room like applause.

Winter screams. Karina moans.

Winter’s pussy explodes — a sudden, violent squirt soaking Karina’s hand and your thighs.

“OHMYGOD—I’m cumming again—fuckfuckfuck—don’t stop—fill me—BREAK ME—!”

You’re groaning, breath heavy, cock throbbing in her ass. Karina licks her slick-coated fingers and moans into Winter’s hair.

“She’s gushing from both holes,” she purrs. “Fuck, they’re gonna loop this forever…”

Winter’s trembling. Her body’s limp. Her hole’s still tight. And your cock? Still buried. Still twitching. Still hungry.

This isn’t just a scene. It’s a fucking masterclass in destruction. And you’re not even close to done.

You stand tall, looming over them, cock soaked, pulsing — a weapon of destruction still glistening from Winter’s ruined asshole. It hangs low and heavy, dripping with slick and need, veins bulging, twitching violently like it’s dying to unload.

Karina’s eyes widen at the sight. Winter’s mouth hangs open. Neither of them can look away.

“Kneel,” you growl.

They slide off the bed instantly — wrecked, glowing, eager. They drop side by side, ex-idols reduced to nothing but cumhungry messes. Yours.

Karina’s tits jiggle as she settles, sweat glistening on her chest. Winter crawls forward on shaky hands, tongue already out.

You stroke your cock slow — one long, teasing drag from base to tip. It twitches in your grip, precum drooling from the slit, a clear thread stretching down toward their faces.

Karina watches that drop fall. “God… he’s leaking already…”

Winter giggles, breathless. “He’s throbbing so hard—he’s gonna fucking erupt…”

Their eyes are wild. Starved. Hypnotized. Karina licks her lips, then leans in — just barely brushing her cheek along your shaft.

“Come on,” she whispers. “We’ve earned it. You bred us… now show them how much you’ve got left…”

Winter presses her lips to your tip — softly, reverently — and gives it one wet, worshipful kiss.

“Let it out,” she begs. “Let it flood us… paint our fucking faces with it…”

You groan. Knees locking. Balls tightening.

Karina reaches down and cups your sack — gently rolling them in her palm.

“Mmm, they’re so heavy…” she moans. “You’re full, aren’t you? Give it to us. Give us every drop…”

Winter strokes your thigh with trembling fingers, eyes huge, tongue flicking at the drooling slit.

“Fucking drown us, daddy… make it messy…”

They’re talking over each other now — whispering, whimpering, chanting filth.

“Cover my tits—my face—fuck—anywhere you want—”

“On my tongue, please, let me drink it—”

“I want to taste Karina’s load off my own face—”

“Breed my mouth next—flood it—fuck it full—”

You feel it building. Surging. Boiling up from your spine like lava.

You stroke once. Twice.

Then snarl. “Fucking take it.” And explode.

The first rope blasts out with brutal force — slapping across Winter’s cheek and nose, thick and white, dripping instantly from her chin.

The second comes harder — spattering across Karina’s lips and tongue, coating her teeth as she moans with her mouth wide open.

Then another— And another— Even heavier — violent, messy shots splattering both of them like paint on canvas. Cum splashes their cheeks, their tits, their foreheads, mixing with sweat, sliding into the curves of their faces and the valleys of their bodies.

One thick stream hangs midair, landing directly across both their tongues — shared, dripping off their lips in sync.

Winter moans like she’s been blessed. Karina laughs softly, licking her lips, already rubbing it into her skin like lotion.

They’re a mess. Your mess. Dripping. Glazed. Glorious.

Karina smears a streak from her cheek down to her nipple. Winter scoops a glob off her chin and licks it slowly, eyes half-lidded.

“I hope they caught every drop,” Karina breathes.

“They will,” Winter giggles, licking Karina’s cheek clean. “They’re gonna watch this and fucking ruin themselves.”

You just stand there — cock still twitching, dripping the final strands of cum onto their tits. Because that’s what you are now. The man who ruined two idols. The man whose load ended the internet. You just made porn history.

The room is silent for a moment. Except for their breathing. Except for the soft, wet drips of your cum sliding off their chins.

Karina and Winter stay kneeling — ruined, dripping, glowing — their cheeks slick with your seed, their lips parted and sticky, chests rising and falling as they pant through the high.

But the camera’s still rolling.

And now? It zooms in. The frame tightens. Closer. Tighter. Focusing in 4K ultra-HD on two flushed, cum-covered faces — eyes lidded, mouths parted, tongues twitching.

Karina turns first. Still glowing. Still filthy. Her eyes lock with Winter’s.

“C’mere,” she breathes. “Let’s give them something to replay.”

Winter smiles — slow, wicked, needy.

And then they lean in.

The moment their lips touch, the audience is gone. Time slows. The camera captures everything — from the first soft press of their cum-slick mouths to the way their tongues immediately begin tasting each other.

It’s not gentle. It’s not shy. It’s sloppy, wet, obscene.

Their lips slide together with a sticky sound, smearing your cum from cheek to cheek. Tongues flick, swirl, swap. Karina pulls Winter closer by the back of her head, deepening the kiss until it’s nothing short of filthy worship. Strands of cum stretch between them when they part — long, glistening, viscous.

Then they dive back in. Winter moans into Karina’s mouth, her tongue flicking under hers, chasing every leftover drop. Karina groans low in her throat, eyes fluttering closed as she opens wider, letting Winter lick the roof of her mouth clean.

The camera loves it.

Close-up on the lips. On the movement of their tongues. On the trail of your cum as it gets passed back and forth like liquid gold.

Karina finally pulls away — strands snapping between their mouths — and licks her lips slowly, dramatically, her voice breathy:

“Think they got that in 60 fps?”

Winter giggles, tongue flicking out to catch one last drip from her lower lip.

“If they didn’t… they’re fucking fired.”

She sat two rows ahead of you in class. Always early. Always quiet. Always wearing that same fucking hoodie, sleeves tugged over her hands, eyes hidden behind wide glasses and a heavy fringe. She never spoke unless the teacher asked her to. And even then? Her voice was soft, almost like she was scared to be heard.

Naoi Rei. 

Nobody paid her any mind. Just another nerd with straight A’s and no social life. But she wasn’t invisible to you.

It started small — the way her thighs squeezed together during presentations, how she would fidget with her pen when she was flustered, or the way her lips pressed into a perfect pout whenever she focused too hard on her notes. There was something under all that modesty. Something tightly wound, desperate to be touched.

You didn’t know why, but you started looking. Started noticing. And one day, between classes, you sat next to her on a bench and said—“You’re cute, you know. In that glasses-girl, shy genius kind of way.”

She looked up like you’d slapped her. Eyes wide. Lips parted. Completely frozen.

You chuckled. “Relax. It’s a compliment.”

But Rei didn’t relax. Because that one stupid comment? It rewired her brain. Shy, nerdy Rei started watching your every move. And not just in class.

She stalked your likes on Instagram. Noticed every model you followed, every ass you saved, every story you tapped through twice. She zoomed in on the girls with perfect bodies, tan skin, pouty lips and teased captions.

So Rei made a decision.

She was going to give you the best of both worlds— The quiet, obedient nerd… And the insatiable, mouthwatering slut she knew you jerked off to every night.

You just didn’t know it yet. But soon, you’d be begging to fuck the nerd who sat two rows ahead.

-

Rei had never been the type to care about social media. She used to keep her Instagram private, blank bio, four posts total — two of them were her cat.

But ever since you complimented her that day, something shifted.

At first, it was harmless curiosity. Just tapping into your profile, wondering who you were outside of school. A guy like you — easy confidence, golden skin, teasing smirks that made girls laugh a little too loudly in the hallways. You weren’t a dick about it. Just... magnetic. And way out of her league.

Still, Rei looked. And then she saw your likes.

Not pornstars. Not influencers. But something worse — more dangerous to a girl like her.

Hollywood icons. Megan Fox. Sydney Sweeney. Scarlett in low angles. Angelina in black leather. Girls who didn’t need to show their holes to melt you. They just existed. Full lips. Heavy eyes. Shirts that clung like they were painted on.

They were the kind of women who didn’t ask to be worshipped. They just were.

Rei stared at your feed for hours that night, her legs curled under her blanket, heart thudding as she scrolled through shot after shot of women who looked nothing like her — wild hair, glossed lips, clothes like lingerie disguised as fashion. They were messy. Bold. Teasing. Untouchable.

And you? You liked every single one. Double-tap. Double-tap. Double-tap.

She hated how wet she got watching your pattern. She hated how she started touching herself anyway.

Her panties were soaked by the time she reached Megan in that low-cut corset dress, hair falling over one shoulder, a single caption beneath: I know exactly what you’re thinking.

Rei whimpered into her pillow. Not because she was jealous. But because for the first time in her life, she wanted to be that kind of girl.

-

It began in secret.

She spent nights practicing her pout in the mirror, lifting her shirt just high enough to see underboob. She watched tutorials on how to fake a full-lip look with gloss and liner. Studied the way these women posed — the arch of their back, the angle of the chin, how they bit the corner of their finger just enough to make men want to ruin them.

She ordered clothes online that made her blush the moment they arrived. A lace bralette. A pleated skirt that barely covered her ass when she bent over. A tiny baby tee with a slogan so suggestive she could barely bring herself to read it out loud.

I’m lovely TROUBLE.

And she didn’t just try them on. She filmed herself. Angles from the side. Panning up slowly. A shaky close-up of her biting her lip with one hand down her panties, whispering your name like it was a prayer. Each clip filthier than the last.

She never sent them. Not yet. But they were ready. For when she broke you.

She practiced sucking on popsicles while moaning your name under her breath. Tried pushing two fingers into her throat just to see how much she could handle. Sat in bed for hours edge-playing, holding off her orgasm as she whispered things like:

You’d use my mouth so well, wouldn’t you? Would you like me better with spit running down my chin? I’ll look just like those girls. Better. Just for you.

She got addicted to the idea of ruining herself for you.

You, the only boy who ever looked at her like she was real.

You, the boy who liked women with curves, smirks, and control— and Rei was going to give you all of it, wrapped in a nerd you could bend over a desk and fuck stupid between classes.

And when she finally took that picture, that tight white shirt gripping her tits like it had been sprayed on, lip gloss shining, eyes low and loaded behind her glasses—

She didn’t post it publicly. She posted it to Close Friends.

You were the only guy on the list. The only person on the list even.

And the caption?

Would you still ask me for notes if I showed up to study with no panties and a mouth ready to serve? 😇📚💋

-

The party was loud. Sweat, booze, music thumping like a heartbeat. You were leaned back on a couch with two of your teammates, half-watching some TikTok compilation on the TV, half-scrolling your own feed.

Then your phone buzzed.

[Rei 💋 posted to Close Friends]

You almost ignored it. Almost.

But something in your chest tugged — a sharp little pulse of curiosity. Rei? Quiet, hoodie-wearing Rei? The girl who barely made eye contact with anyone unless she was correcting a math error?

You tapped. And the air around you froze.

Mirror selfie. Soft amber light from a bathroom bulb kissed her skin in all the right places, giving her that hazy, post-shower glow. Her long dark hair spilled over one shoulder, strands still slightly damp — like she’d just gotten off, or was about to.

Her glasses were still on — but dangerously low, just hanging on the tip of her nose like some cock-hungry schoolgirl fantasy. And her lips? Glossed, wet, slightly open — like she'd been moaning before the camera clicked. You could almost hear it.

But it was the shirt that fucked you up.

A white crop tee so tight it looked vacuum-sealed to her body. Thin enough to show everything — the way her nipples strained against the fabric, hard and begging. The way the curve of her underboob teased beneath the hem. The text across her chest stretched and warped across two perfect, full, fucking massive tits: I’m lovely TROUBLE.

And she was. She fucking was.

No bra. No shame. No way this was the same girl who took quiet notes in pastel colors and wore hoodies two sizes too big.

Your eyes dropped lower. Tiny black skirt, pleated and criminally short. But the real sin?

Her other hand was inside it.

Thumb hooked into the waistband, fingers slipping down between her thighs. You could see the tension in her wrist — she was either pressing right into her soaked cunt or about to. Either way, she was leaking for the camera. For you.

But then you saw the caption, and it was over.

Would you still ask for my notes if I sucked your cock during study sessions?😇📚👅💋

You sat up so fast you nearly dropped your phone.

Your mouth went completely dry. Your cock — half-hard from the usual party buzz — jerked violently to full attention in your pants like it was answering a fucking call. You could feel it throbbing, pressing against your waistband, the fabric already dampening with pre-cum.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The bass of the party music faded out completely.

All you could see was her. All you could feel was that ache.

The ache to grip her hair, tilt her head back by the chin, and bury yourself down her throat.

Your hand twitched toward your crotch on instinct, but you had to stop yourself — you were still surrounded by people.

But then— “Holy fuck, who the hell is that?”

One of your boys leaned over your shoulder, eyes wide.

“Yo, back that up. Back that up. She real?”

“Bro, those tits. What’s her @?”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Your brain was running on cumlust.

Because they were talking about her. Your Rei. The nerdy girl with the neat handwriting and shaky voice and hoodies that hid everything. The girl who’d just shown you what she was hiding.

And the worst part? She posted it only for you.

Your balls ached. Your cock twitched. And you knew right then:

You had to see her. You had to ask why she did this. And if she was really brave enough to post that… You were going to find out if she was brave enough to act it out.

-

You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t.

Every time you closed your eyes, you saw her. That soft light. That cock-drunk pout. The way her tits looked like they were begging for your hands. Her fingers between her thighs. That fucking caption. That fucking smile.

You jerked off once. Twice. Three times. None of it helped.

Your cock still throbbed. Your balls still ached.

Because no matter how hard you stroked, no matter how much cum spilled out of you onto your stomach or the tissue or your fucking bedsheet — it wasn’t enough.

Not unless it was her mouth. Her tits. Her tight little cunt.

You wanted to fuck her so bad it hurt.

-

And then came morning

You showed up to school early. You didn’t even think about it — your legs moved before your brain caught up. Like your cock had taken over as the GPS.

And then, there she was.

Rei.

At her desk, like always. Front row. Hoodie back on. Hair tied up. Glasses clean and sitting properly on the bridge of her nose. Pencil pouch neatly zipped. Notebook opened to a fresh page.

No makeup. No gloss. No “lovely TROUBLE” shirt. No skin.

It was like it never happened.

You stared. She didn’t even look your way. No wink. No smirk. No knowing glance. Not even a flush.

She was scribbling notes with that same neat handwriting, nodding along to the teacher’s voice, like she hadn’t posted a picture of herself fingering her pussy in a crop top and indirectly asking to suck your cock just twelve hours ago.

Your chest tightened. Your cock stirred again.

You tried to focus. Tried to swallow the frustration burning up your spine.

But all you could think about was

Where the fuck was that Rei? The one who posted for you. The one who wanted to suck you off during study sessions.

You caught her once during the break — passing in the hallway. You slowed. She didn’t. Not a glance. Not a blink. She walked right past you like any other day.

It made you crazy. Made your fists clench and your cock twitch with rage-lust. Because you knew now. Knew what she was hiding under those baggy layers. Knew what her mouth looked like parted in pleasure. Knew how much she wanted you.

But she was pretending again. Putting the mask back on.

And you couldn’t stand it.

You skipped your last class. You waited. You knew where she always went after school — that dusty music room where she liked to study alone. No one ever bothered her there.

But today? You were going to bother her.

You sat in the hallway outside. Waiting. Legs jittering. Cock half-hard and threatening to go full every time you remembered the way her fingers disappeared into her skirt.

Your foot bounced. Your jaw clenched.

And then — finally — the door opened.

You looked up. And there she was.

And for a second, your brain stalled. Because what stepped into the hallway wasn’t Rei, the quiet nerd in a hoodie. It was something straight out of a fucking porn intro. Something weaponized.

She walked into the light — slow, deliberate — hips swaying like she knew she had your attention before the door even opened.

No hoodie. No backpack. No binder.

Just skin. Confidence. And a body made to destroy your sanity.

That same white crop top from the story. So tight it might as well have been painted on. So short it barely clung to the underside of her huge, heavy tits, the words “I’m lovely TROUBLE” stretched across her chest like a warning label you’d fail to read before creaming in your pants.

No bra. Her nipples were sharp, stiff, fucking obvious, poking through like they were desperate for mouth or friction — or both.

Same short black skirt. Barely legal. Riding high on her thighs, barely covering anything. Her inner thighs glistened just a little, and you couldn’t tell if that was oil, sweat, or her slick.

Same thigh-high socks, striped at the top — soft, girly, and perverse. Same glasses, slid low on her nose like a fantasy librarian you’d bend over a table.

And her lips — glossed, shiny, parted like she was ready to suck your cock right then and there.

She didn’t look nervous. Didn’t look shy. She looked horny.

And it hit you all at once: She walked across the fucking school in this.

Hallways. Stairwells. Maybe past teachers. Maybe past your friends. Maybe past guys who stared, drooled, turned to each other wondering who the fuck that wet dream was — not knowing it was her.

Rei. The nerd. Your nerd.

Your cock pulsed. Your eyes scanned her — again, and again, and again — brain scrambling to process how far gone she was. How far she was willing to go to make you hurt, ache, obsess.

She saw you. Stopped a few feet away.

Tilted her head with a sweet, knowing smile — like she’d just caught you jerking off with your phone in one hand and her picture in the other.

“Hey,” she said, voice soft. But the tease behind it? Venomous. “You saw my post, didn’t you?”

You stood up slowly. Couldn’t trust your voice yet. Your chest heaved, and your cock pressed painfully against your waistband — so hard it was starting to leak.

She looked you up and down — and smirked. Then stepped even closer, her body practically humming with heat.

“Was it too much?” she purred, toying with the hem of her skirt, pretending to tug it down while pushing her chest out. “I was just practicing…”

You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on that curve between her thighs.

“Practicing what?” you managed to growl, voice thick, low, starving.

She leaned in, so close her breath tickled your lips.

“Practicing being the kind of girl who gets to choke on your cock after class.”

Your cock throbbed. Sharp, painful. Like it wanted to rip free from your pants and shove itself straight into her mouth.

You couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, lips parted, eyes wide behind fogging glasses. Her fingers toyed with her skirt’s hem again — not to hide anything. To tease.

You stood frozen. Breath heavy. Cock twitching painfully in your pants. She took another step forward, and you could smell her now — that soft, faint perfume… and arousal. Thick. Sweet. Real. Then, she looked up at you and asked— “Are you hard for me already?”

“You’ve been hard all day, haven’t you? Ever since that post.”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

She saw it. The strain in your pants. The heat in your eyes. The way your breath hitched just from her voice.

She giggled.

“Poor thing,” she whispered. “Bet your cock’s been drooling in class while I sat all innocent in my hoodie like I wasn’t the same girl who fingered herself for you the night before.”

Then — just like that — she sank to her knees in front of you.

Smooth. Slow. Her thighs spread slightly as she settled down, hands dragging along your legs on the way. She looked up at you, glasses tilted, hair messy, eyes gleaming with filthy intention.

“I’ve been imagining this moment for weeks.”

“I practiced sucking on popsicles. I trained my throat with my fingers. I even watched blowjob tutorials while touching myself.”

Her hands reached for your waistband, tugging your pants down. Your cock sprang out, hard, flushed, twitching, soaked with pre-cum.

She gasped — and smiled like a girl unwrapping her favorite toy.

“Oh my fucking god… you’re even bigger than I pictured when I fucked myself with my highlighters.”

Her hand wrapped around the base — warm, delicate, needy. She leaned in close, let her tongue drag up the shaft, slow and deliberate, before pausing just beneath the tip.

“Do you know how many times I imagined this cock stretching my throat until I cried?”

You groaned.

She giggled again.

“You always looked so nice. So composed. I just wanted to see you fucking break.”

Then she opened her mouth. Wide. Wet. Willing. And slid you past her lips like she’d done it a thousand times.

No fumbling. No hesitation. Just immediate submission.

She took you deep — too deep — until her nose brushed your pelvis and she gagged softly around your cock, tears brimming in her eyes. But she didn’t stop. She moaned around you. Pulled back, strings of spit clinging from her lips to your tip.

“Use my face,” she panted, eyes glazed. “Treat me like those girls you watch on your phone. Like I’m just a pretty pair of lips to cum into.”

She sucked you back in, this time with rhythm — sloppy, filthy, two hands twisting along your shaft as she bobbed her head, moaning like a girl who’d waited her entire life for this cock.

Wet sounds echoed down the hallway. Your hips twitched involuntarily. You were losing it.

“Cum for me,” she begged between slurps. “Cum all over the girl you thought was too quiet to be your slut.”

And you were so close. So, fucking close.

Your balls tightened. Your breath hitched. Your hands gripped her head like handles as her mouth slurped down your shaft, warm and so fucking wet, the obscene noises of her sucking echoing in the music room like the prelude to your undoing.

“Fuck—Rei—fuck, I’m gonna—”

And then she pulled off.

Just like that.

Your cock slipped from her lips with a wet pop, covered in spit, angry and desperate to explode. A strand of saliva hung between her tongue and your tip as she looked up at you — cheeks flushed, lips shiny, chest heaving.

She smiled. A slow, slutty, cruel smile.

“Not yet,” she whispered, licking her lips. “I want your first load somewhere else.”

Your mouth parted. Your brain blanked. And Rei? She stood up — slowly, seductively, dragging her hands over her body as if unwrapping a gift you weren’t worthy of but were about to fucking ruin.

She reached back and tugged the skirt down her thighs. No panties. Of course there weren’t.

Her thighs were slick. Her inner lips puffy, glistening, already aching for you.

Then she slipped off her shoes, but kept the thigh-high socks. She unzipped the skirt, tossed it aside, then reached for the hem of her shirt.

You didn’t even want her to take it off. But she didn’t.

She pulled it up just enough to flash the undercurve of her tits — the words I’m lovely TROUBLE stretching proudly across her bouncing chest. Her nipples tented the fabric, still visible, still begging.

And finally— She adjusted her glasses.

Still on. Fogged. Perfect.

She stood in front of you in nothing but that tight white shirt, those striped thigh highs, and her glasses — skin flushed, eyes wild, pussy soaked.

She turned slowly, giving you every angle.

“You can fuck me however you want,” she whispered. “On the piano. Against the wall. On the floor. You can bend me, fold me, throw me.”

Then she stepped toward you, voice low, breath hot.

“You’re hard because of me. You’ve been throbbing for hours because of me. So now, take me how you need me. Be the first one to ruin this little body. I’ve saved every part of it… for you.”

She turned around and bent at the waist, looking back over her shoulder, her dripping cunt fully exposed under the lifted shirt, glistening between those socked thighs. Waiting. Begging. “So… what’s your choice?”

“How are you going to fuck your nerd first?”

You didn’t even speak at first. You just grabbed her wrist, spun her, and shoved her back onto the piano bench.

She squealed — soft, slutty, excited — as you yanked her legs apart, the thigh-highs framing her slick, bare pussy like an invitation you were born to accept.

Her eyes met yours through fogged-up glasses as you stood between her knees, cock twitching, leaking, angry after she edged you with that throat.

“Fuck me, please,” she panted. “I’ve been dripping for you since last night. You made me walk through the whole school like this knowing I was one word away from bending over a desk for you.”

You pushed her down on the piano, knees to her chest. Her heels dug into your back the moment you pushed in.

Tight. Warm. Fucking perfect.

Rei gasped, body arching so hard her glasses nearly flew off her face, the thin metal frames sliding down her nose as you sank deeper, stretching her inch by inch until you bottomed out.

“Oh god, yes—” she moaned, voice cracking with a sharp gasp, “I knew you’d be big, but… fuck, you’re splitting me open—”

You folded her in half right there on the piano bench, her thighs pressed tight against her own chest, her ass planted on the keys so the first thrust made the instrument groan out a sharp, broken chord beneath her.

Every hard stroke shoved her shirt higher, her I’m lovely TROUBLE crop top barely clinging to her chest as her tits bounced wildly beneath it.

You grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, forcing her to stay wide open as you slammed into her, faster now, the wet squelches of her pussy echoing off the walls with every thrust.

Her head rolled back. Eyes unfocused. Drool gathering at the corner of her lips.

“Breed me like this,” she begged, voice slurred, desperate. “Please—please, fill me up… mating press… yeah, fuck me like I’m the only hole you’ll ever need—”

She was so wet you could hear it—sticky, obscene, a filthy symphony mixing with the groaning piano beneath her ass every time you drove her down onto your cock.

Her nails raked down your arms, red lines blooming across your skin as she gasped through another thrust that made her tits slap against her chest beneath the shirt.

“Harder,” she cried, legs shaking around your waist, “I want to feel it tomorrow… I want to drip all day in class knowing you bred me full—”

Her voice cracked as you picked up speed, hips slamming forward brutally now, her whole body jerking with each thrust.

“Fuck—yes—yes—ruin me, please—god, make me yours—”

And you weren’t done. Not even close.

You shifted her wrists into one hand, keeping her arms pinned above her head while your free hand grabbed her throat lightly, tilting her head back so her fogged-up glasses nearly fell off.

“Look at you,” you growled, watching her tits bounce, her cunt swallow you down to the hilt every time you slammed in. “Little nerd with the big fucking tits—getting fucked like a pornstar.”

She moaned so loudly the piano under her ass screamed with vibrations.

“I am your pornstar,” she whined. “Only yours… only your cock… only your cum—”

Your thrusts got harder. Meaner. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably now, locked around your waist like she was scared you’d stop before she was wrecked beyond repair.

But you weren’t stopping. Not until she was screaming your name.

​​Her legs locked tighter around your waist as you hammered into her, each thrust driving her higher, harder, the sound of wet flesh colliding echoing off the walls with every brutal stroke. The piano keys beneath her ass sang out random, discordant notes from the impact, each slam producing some warped, broken chord that mixed with her breathless cries.

“Oh my god—I can’t—” she moaned, voice gone hoarse, back arching so high her glasses nearly slid off her face. “You’re gonna make me—fucking hell—you’re gonna make me—”

You didn’t let up. You drove into her, faster, harder, sweat dripping from both your bodies as her thighs shook violently around you.

“Say it,” you growled, fingers digging into her waist. “I’m—I’m—gonna cum—fuck, I’m gonna fucking—”

It hit her mid-sentence.

Her whole body locked, legs spasming as her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Then it poured out of her — hot, clear, sudden — gushing down your cock, spraying over the piano bench, dripping off the edges onto the floor in a violent, messy release.

The wet sound was deafening. You didn’t stop. You rode it out, pounding through her orgasm as she squirted again, and again, her cries turning to gasps, gasps to sobs, sobs to manic little giggles as her eyes rolled back.

“Ohmygodohmygod—I’m still—fucking—cumming—” she babbled, her voice shaking, legs trembling violently as you kept slamming into her soaked, dripping cunt.

Every thrust now splashed through the mess she’d made, the piano keys below both of you clacking like applause for how wrecked she was getting.

You leaned down, mouth at her ear, your thrusts brutal and relentless.

“Look at this fucking mess,” you growled. “Nerd girl squirting like a pornstar on the first fuck.”

“Y-yes—yes—I’m your pornstar—” she gasped, drool on her chin, “your little slutty nerd—oh fuck—”

You felt her legs starting to give out, her body limp from overstimulation. So you pulled out — soaked cock glistening in the low light — and dragged her off the piano by the hips.

She was panting, trembling, dripping everywhere as you bent her over the teacher’s desk in one motion, her ass high, her face pressed to the wood.

“New position,” you growled, lining yourself up again. “Please—oh fuck, please—” she begged, already spreading her legs wider.

And then you slammed into her from behind. Hard. Fast. Mean.

She gasped loud enough to echo off the classroom walls, one hand flying out to steady herself as you shoved her forward, scattering pens, worksheets, and a half-empty water bottle off the teacher’s desk. The cheap wood rattled under her palms as she bent over, back arched to present herself like the slut she swore she wasn’t before today.

Her skirt was already bunched at her waist, useless, nothing but a crumpled belt around her hips now. The sunlight cutting through the blinds turned her ass into a perfect canvas of stripes and shadow, every thrust-ready inch glistening with arousal.

She was wet. Dripping. And then you slammed into her.

One rough, merciless thrust straight to the base.

She screamed into the crook of her arm, whole body jerking forward, her glasses slipping down her nose as her legs struggled to keep steady.

“Oh, f-fuck!”

You didn’t stop. Didn’t give her time to breathe.

You grabbed her waist hard enough to bruise and started pounding, hips colliding with her ass so fast the smack, smack, smack of skin-on-skin filled the room louder than her whimpers.

“Yes! Yes! Harder—fuck me harder—” she cried out, her voice cracking on every word as her hips slammed back to meet you. “Use me! Use me like the stupid little slut I am… fuck… like I’ve been dying for your cock since the day you sat next to me!”

The desk legs screeched across the floor with every thrust. The whole thing shook like it might collapse under how hard you were driving into her.

Her glasses fogged completely, falling down the bridge of her nose as she moaned open-mouthed, face flushed, hair plastered to her sweaty cheek.

Your balls slapped her clit again and again, obscene, wet sounds filling the room every time you buried yourself to the hilt. Her thighs quivered with each collision, her knuckles white on the desk edge.

“I’m your nerd now,” she panted through the noise, breathless, voice breaking into near-hysterics, “your toy… fuck, your little cumdump if you want me to be… I’ll be anything, just don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

Her tits bounced violently with every thrust, the thin white crop top clinging to her sweat-slick skin, the words I’m lovely TROUBLE warping and jiggling across her chest like a flashing warning sign you ignored completely.

You reached up and grabbed a handful of that shirt, yanking her back by the fabric so she arched even deeper, your cock hitting her harder, deeper, faster.

She squealed, one hand flying back to grab your wrist as if she couldn’t handle the way you were fucking her but couldn’t stand the idea of you stopping either.

“God, yes—fuck me stupid—wreck your little nerd—make me your fucking mess—”

The sunlight lit every drop of sweat, every ripple of her body slamming back into yours, every time her cunt clenched desperately around your cock like she was trying to milk it for everything you had.

She was loud now. Slut-loud. The kind of loud that carried through hallways, the kind that left no doubt in anyone’s mind what was happening inside this room.

And she didn’t care. Because right now? She wasn’t the quiet nerd anymore. She was yours.

You yanked her down off the desk, books and pens clattering to the floor as she hit the ground with a squeal.

But before you could even catch your breath, Rei was already moving — straddling you like a woman possessed, one hand on your chest for balance, the other wrapping around your spit-slick cock and lining it up with her soaked, trembling pussy.

She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wait for you to say a word. She slammed herself down with a choked cry, taking you all the way in one desperate thrust.

“Ohhh—fuck—yes!” she gasped, head thrown back, hair flying, glasses slipping halfway down her nose. “Finally… finally inside me again—”

And then she rode. Hard. Fast. Messy.

The sound of her thighs smacking against yours filled the classroom as she bounced up and down on your cock like she was trying to break herself on it.

She was loud. Slut-loud. Moaning like she didn’t care who heard her.

“I practiced this too,” she gasped between sharp cries, hips pounding down so hard you had to grab her ass just to steady her. “Sat on my hairbrush… thinking about this cock… pretending it was you pinning me down… f-fucking me like this while I came all over it…”

Her tits were right in your face now, barely contained by that tiny white crop top, the words bouncing like a taunt every time she slammed herself down on you.

You groaned, grabbing her waist as she ground herself down, her clit rubbing against you with every brutal thrust.

“Gonna make myself cum first,” she whined, voice breaking, sweat dripping from her temple onto your chest. “Then I want you to flip me again… fuck me stupid… fuck me till I can’t walk straight tomorrow… till I forget my own fucking name.”

Her pussy clenched tight around you as if to prove her point, sucking you in with every bounce, gripping like she wanted to wring every drop out of you but wasn’t going to let you finish yet.

She leaned forward suddenly, tits mashing into your chest, breath hot in your ear.

“Bet you’re close, huh?” she whispered, voice trembling but cocky. “Feel you throbbing… so hard for me… so ready to paint my insides… but not yet. You don’t cum till I say you can.”

She sat back up, hips slapping against yours even faster now, ass rippling as she rode you with feral energy, sweat dripping down her spine, skirt bunched around her waist, socks pulled tight on her thighs.

You were gripping her hips, teeth clenched, groaning through it, because her pace was merciless.

“God—yes—fuck, look at me,” she cried, glasses sliding even lower now, mouth open, eyes rolling back. “Look at your quiet little nerd… fucking herself stupid on your cock like she was made for it.”

And she didn’t slow down. Not when her thighs started shaking. Not when she gasped, head snapping back as her body began to twitch with the edge of an orgasm.

Her pace was manic now — messy, uncoordinated, almost desperate. She wasn’t riding you anymore so much as slamming herself down, chasing the end like she couldn’t stand one more second without it.

“Oh fuck—oh fuck—oh fuck—”

Her thighs were trembling violently against your hips, her nails clawing at your shoulders as she bounced through it, her moans breaking into sharp little cries with every thrust.

Then her whole body seized. Back arched. Head thrown back. Mouth open in a silent scream before the sound tore out of her throat anyway.

She came. Hard.

Clit grinding against your pelvis, cunt clenching like it was trying to rip your cock out by the root, juices spilling down your shaft and pooling in your lap as she wailed through it, eyes squeezed shut behind those fogged-up glasses.

“F-fuck… fuck yes… oh my God… I’m—ahhh—cumming… cumming so hard—”

You gritted your teeth, holding her through it as her whole body twitched, her orgasm spilling out in wet, filthy splashes against your thighs.

She collapsed forward, gasping, sweat dripping down her spine, lips trembling against your neck as she shook through the aftershocks.

And just when you thought she was spent— She pushed you back.

You were breathing hard, cock still buried inside her when she suddenly shoved you down by the shoulders, eyes blazing through the mess of hair clinging to her face.

Her glasses were fogged to hell, hair a sweaty wreck, crop top riding so high now you could see the full, heavy undercurve of her tits every time she leaned forward.

She pulled off you slowly.

Your spit-slick, pussy-wet cock slipped out with a lewd squelch, slapping against her stomach as it sprang free — flushed, angry, throbbing, every vein bulging like it was ready to blow at any second.

And she smirked. That filthy, knowing smirk that said she was the one ruining you now.

“You like my tits, don’t you?” she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. “Been staring at them since that post. Pretending not to, but I know.”

You were half-gone already — body slick with sweat, cock aching, balls heavy from everything she’d just put you through.

But Rei? Rei wasn’t done.

She was breathing hard, glasses sliding down her nose, sweat running between her tits under that tiny white crop top. Her thighs still trembled from riding you, but that wicked smile stayed on her lips.

And then she pulled back — off your cock completely.

You almost groaned at the loss, ready to grab her hips and slam her back down, but she pressed a finger to your lips.

“Shhh,” she whispered, voice low, dangerously sweet. “I told you… I practiced everything.”

Then she grabbed the hem of her shirt and peeled it off in one slow motion, tossing it aside so her tits bounced free at last — heavy, round, perfect, glistening with sweat.

Fucking huge. The kind of tits you’d seen on your feed a thousand times but never thought you’d have sliding around your cock.

And Rei dropped to her knees between your legs again.

She leaned forward, letting her tits press together around your shaft. Warm. Soft. Smothering.

You groaned instantly, head falling back as she spat right onto your cock, the warm saliva running down between those perfect curves, mixing with sweat, dripping over your balls.

“Fuck…” you muttered, hips twitching.

Rei smirked up at you through messy hair and fogged-up glasses.

“Yeah?” she teased softly. “You like my nerd tits better than those Hollywood girls now? These are all yours. Big fucking tits on a girl who’s been dying to hear you cum on them since you first smiled at her.”

She started moving. Slow at first. Up and down. Squeezing tighter. Spit slicking every motion. The head of your cock popped out between the tops of her tits with each stroke, red and angry, dripping pre-cum onto her chest before disappearing again into the warm, perfect squeeze.

“I watched so many videos,” she whispered between strokes, “girls with big tits, covered in cum… I fingered myself to them imagining it was you painting me white while I looked up just like this.”

She licked the tip whenever it slipped free, just a quick wet flick of her tongue, before burying you back between her soft, bouncing flesh.

“Gonna fill them up, right? Make a mess of me? So every time I look down at my tits I’ll remember the first time you used them?”

You groaned. Your hips lifted slightly, chasing the heat, the slick.

“Fuck, Rei—”

She sped up. Squeezing tighter. Drool dripping from her mouth to mix with spit and sweat.

“You’re throbbing so much,” she panted, “so full. But not yet… oh no, I want to feel it in my pussy first. These tits get the second load. My little cunt gets the first one.”

Your hands gripped her hair as she fucked her tits around your cock like she was born to do it, eyes dark with need, moaning softly every time the head slapped against her collarbone.

Rei stayed on her knees, glasses sliding lower as she pushed her tits tighter together around your cock, the warm weight of them wrapping you in pure sin. Her spit mixed with sweat, dripping down her cleavage, coating your length so every stroke sounded lewd and wet in the empty music room.

She looked up at you through strands of messy hair, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

“Look at you,” she murmured, voice breathless but taunting, “the big man on campus about to lose it between the tits of the nerd no one ever noticed… except you. Bet you never thought this would happen, huh? Bet you never thought I was jerking off to you while I studied integrals and chemical equations.”

She spat again, hot and sloppy, letting it drizzle over your cock before smashing her tits tighter around you, sliding them up and down in faster, messier strokes.

“I used to finger myself in the showers thinking about this,” she continued, licking your tip when it slipped free for a second, “thinking about how good you’d look straining to hold back while I made you explode all over my chest. You want to cover me, don’t you? Paint the girl who solved your math problems like one of those Hollywood sluts you like so much?”

You groaned, hips twitching helplessly. The head of your cock flared angry red each time it popped through the top of her cleavage, slick and dripping pre-cum over her sternum before she buried it again between her soft, perfect flesh.

“Mmm… fuck, you’re throbbing,” she moaned, biting her lip, “so heavy, so close. I want it, baby. Want it all over me. Want to smell like your cum when I walk back home tonight.”

She picked up the pace, faster now, breasts bouncing as she fucked them around you with both hands squeezing tight, the obscene slap of wet skin echoing off the walls.

“I want people to see it on me,” she whispered, eyes locked on yours, “so they know I’m yours now. That the quiet little nerd is just your cumdump with big, bouncy tits made for one thing—making you empty your balls whenever you want.”

Your breathing hitched. Your thighs tensed.

“Do it,” she begged, voice cracking as she squeezed even tighter. “Cum for me. Make a mess of me. Give me everything. I’ll rub it in so deep my bra will smell like you for days.”

That broke you. With a strangled groan, you grabbed her hair and thrust up once, twice—then erupted, ropes of hot, thick cum painting her tits, her chest, her neck, splattering over her collarbones as she laughed breathlessly through the mess.

“Oh my god,” she giggled, looking down at herself, hands spreading the warm, sticky load over her breasts like lotion. “You’re filthy. Look what you did to me.”

She smeared it higher, over her throat, letting it drip between her cleavage as she sucked one finger clean, eyes locked on you with a look that screamed not finished.

Then she stood slowly, cum running down her chest, the skirt and shirt already abandoned, thigh-highs still hugging her legs. She leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“My place,” she whispered, voice low and sultry. “Round two. No condoms. No pulling out. I want to feel it flood my pussy this time.”

She grabbed her shirt but didn’t put it on, slinging it over her shoulder as she walked toward the door, cum still dripping down her skin, leaving a trail of temptation behind her.

—————

You shake your head, rubbing your tired eyes as you lean back against the shut door. "Please, Miss Jang. I'm not in the mood to deal with any of your shit today."

That stops Kyujin in her tracks. And somehow, it draws a hint of rare, genuine concern. She obeys your half-hearted command and clambers off, the skirt a touch longer now—at least from what you can catch.

"Awww, poor professor. Having to handle incompetent students must be so exhausting," she says with a cheeky grin, bouncing in front of you. You don't notice her move around you to lock the door, but you certainly hear the click. She coos in your ear, playfully brushing a hand under your chin. "Lemme guess, more AI generated reports?"

Completely unbothered, you just glare back, even if some of it is true. "Why should you care? Not like you're any better submitting your assignments two weeks late." Kyujin shrugs, rolling her eyes again. "Just wondering."

You click your tongue. "Wondering or not, there's more important matters I need to attend to."

"Oh? Such as—?" she asks with an almost snarky curiosity.

It's not about anything involving her or even academics, at least to some degree. What you really need to be thinking about is how exactly you're going to properly enjoy your date tomorrow night, or when you’d finally get around to filing your two week notice. But Kyujin doesn't need to know about that, nor does she give a single fuck.

So instead, you lift up a rather large and thick stack of graded papers sitting right beside her, the mere sight of the workload drawing a brief widening of her eyes and yet another unamused eyeroll.

"More reports by lazy clankers?" she remarks, already knowing the answer before getting a reply.

"Always."

She lets out an exasperated groan. "Come on, professor. Is that what you should be doing before exams? When you should be doing better stuff?"

"And what, pray tell, would you consider 'better stuff?'" you question, raising a brow and arms crossed in feigned ignorance.

Kyujin raises her arm and puts it around your shoulder. The other hand rests on your chest, barely a sensitive touch away from getting all over each other. "How about getting off your tired ass for one minute and—reward the student who, at the very least, passes each test with flying colors? Just a small congratulations is enough," she implores. Her voice is low and husky, an attempt to sound like a good little girl in need of some desperate praise and affection. "I'm not asking for much like I normally do. Consider this—a kindness discount."

"Maybe show up to my classes more than half the semester and I'll consider it," you counter, sighing after as she burrows further against your neck. The scent of her perfume is as strong as her grip, the girl hanging onto you as tight as you have onto the rest of her underperforming grades.

"Aw. You really miss seeing my cute face, professor?"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Kyujin."

She feigns offense, clutching her chest. "Why am I making things harder than they need to be?

“Cut the crap, Kyujin," you dismiss in a rather bored fashion, glaring in judgment at how disgustingly clingy she gets. "You've hardly shown up to my classes since the beginning of this semester and yet you wonder why I'm a little short with you."

For what's certainly not the first time, she only offers an annoyed smile as response.

But perhaps there's a part of her that holds a bead of respect for your efforts, despite them seemingly going nowhere. More likely the opposite. There's only one reason why she still tolerates you and bothers to try. Or maybe it's just your mind looking for excuses to be hopeful.

Your words seem to register; her annoying smirk normally wears shifts into a warm smile, though her hand slowly moving from your chest to your waist indicates it's nothing but a mere ruse.

Kyujin steps forward, sliding her hand down the length of your arm and drawing close until her chest presses itself close against yours. It's the kind of behavior you’d push back against, given your job as a professor and not caring about her as a person outside of your office. But that’s not what matters to you at all. Right now, the goal is trying to get the woman off of your back—both figuratively and literally.

"You sure? You really want this 'crap' cut from us?" she purrs. Her hand glides up your side to your shoulder and back down again, brushing under the edge of your shirt. She grabs the top button to unfasten, eager to shed off your clothes.

Your face twitches in discomfort and desperation, but the professional side in you doesn't want to let go just yet.

You grab her wrist to stop, but instead, she quickly finds and grabs hold of your cock through your slacks. She makes damn sure there's nothing subtle or suggestive about her intentions, but her utter boldness and the way she grips your shaft makes you go crazy within mere seconds.

Clear your throat and tilt your head. Your expression says, 'you're fucking serious?' but the growing tent in your pants says something else.

"It's been a long day, sir," she remarks, tilting down to the bulge poking through your slacks, her eyes glistening with mischievous intent. "You really do need to destress. And would you look at that?" she directs her attention to the overhead clock, now at exactly 6:00 P.M. "Everyone else should be leaving by now. Leaving only just the two of us."

"Kyu, please—" you protest, but she gives your balls a squeeze that turns your words into a deep moan. Needy. Wanting. You grab her hair in an effort to make her stop. "Not yet—"

Fuck, this is one of the reasons you keep Kyujin around, despite her brash, free-spirited behavior. She knows you more than you do. How you react to the slightest touch, the faintest sensation, how you always want her, and the thrill she gets off from leading you on despite the consequences and the risks—

"And come on. Be honest," she interjects as she continues to stroke. "A part of you is glad to see me, right?"

She gives your cock one long, firm stroke and lets her hand linger on your shaft. You can practically feel your precum leaking and dying to break free and touch her wet warmth.

Kyujin licks her lips at how fucking ready you are for her. The student meets her teacher, now fair equals in every sense of the word, and it's even more erotic because the fact is not lost on her that despite you teaching her, she can teach you. And you're always looking forward to every session.

Despite how aroused and eager you are, you stop. Grab her by the hair and keep some space between you. "Wait. I'm being serious here, Kyu. Take a seat over there."

Recognizing the urgency in your tone, she relents. Shooting you a mocking pout, she quietly sits on one of the guest chairs. And because she can't help herself and her mouth, she has to make it snarky:

"You're no fun."

"You want my cock and my cock only, I get it. Save the quips for later," you say as you plop in your seat with a heavy exhale, setting aside the damning workload on the desk, piling them on one of the drawers. "Can you at least humor me here for five minutes."

As she drums her fingertips across your desk, it's only now you notice that they're neatly manicured, an appealing shade of bright pink to match her strawberry colored lips. It's a reminder that outside of being a pain in your ass, Kyujin is very, dangerously attractive. More than that, she’s the definition of a teacher’s pet: always willing to take extra long breaks before returning to class looking a tad disheveled, getting eaten out or bent over in the bathroom, lockers, or offices—that is, if her long makeup fixes or a slightly rearranged bra isn't giving any signs away.

She rests her head on her arms and shoots a sullen stare at your unflappable nature. "Whatever, sir. Your wish is my command," she mocks with a little bow.

With an impatient sigh, you add: "Or you could stay there, I guess. Whatever makes you happy."

Kyujin reciprocates with a bright, wicked grin. "As a matter of fact, yes. Staying right here would be amazing."

She lazily pushes her ass to the edge of your chair, stretching her arms along the length of the seat. Giving her best seductive wiggle before showing just a bit of what's hiding beneath her short skirt: a little peek at a piece of black g-string, a stark contrast to the blue shirt she's donning. It makes for nice viewing, as you realize, once again, that she is your weakness and the most troublesome, but fascinating enigma at the moment.

And that's fine. She likes all the attention you’re giving her.

With a knowing, confident smirk, her legs fall apart, baring everything. This, unfortunately, isn't the first time, and you doubt it's ever going to be the last.

Your eyes immediately widen at her utter shamelessness and the sheer audacity, jaw hanging loose. The temptation and thrill of taking her in your office, under your watchful eye, is all too great to bear, no matter how professional of a mask you put up. You can't help your growing grin; at how low your tolerance for her is, especially now, even lower.

"God damn, Kyu. The bar is in hell, but you've never stooped this low. What's the occasion?"

"You don't like this little present I've left just for you?" she says, watching your gaze travel hungrily from her slender legs, all the way to the glorious gift she's flashing. "I was looking forward to seeing you today, too."

Your face twitches. "Kyujin, this can't keep happen—"

"That’s not important right now, is it?Just get on with it."

"Look. We've had this discussion plenty of times before," you start with an eyeroll, only for your train of thought to be quickly derailed by the memory of just what a great deal the other students and staff can't see. That this same woman, the definition of chaos incarnate, gets touched and eaten out in the same classroom you'd given lectures to, or those same fingers that get shoved up inside her cunt in the computer rooms, not giving a fuck that there's remnants of her cum drying on the keyboard.

That same image she flashes right at the worst possible time. The thought of it all, however briefly, is overwhelmingly distracting. So, so delicious, to have a reminder that's currently taking shape right in front of you.

Your sigh becomes more exhausted as your grip on the armrest tightens and the throbbing in your head worsens. Kyujin must've taken that as a sign of your acquiescence, or that you're warming up and returning to her.

"Yeah yeah, same bullshit as usual, we get it," she dismisses. Turns onto her belly, legs dangling idly, feet twitching with impatience. "Now tell me, Professor," she continues, dripping with tender sweetness and laced with want, "When was the last time you went out for a date? A night where you're not busy being Mr. Prof and taking calls about how the computer broke?"

You scoff. "You wanna lecture me about work and relationships and everything that I've always lectured to you, Miss Jang. Perfect."

Kyujin merely flaps a hand back at you. "Yeah yeah, it's your own business and whatever. If I actually gave a shit."

"Or we can focus on the fact that that someone could walk right in and see all—of—this," you finish, wildly gesturing at the provocative and near pornographic image of her borderline nakedness.

"Door's locked, there are no windows, and the curtains are closed. Doesn't seem to be an issue at all," she points out. Drawing up her knees and kicking her legs, her skirt rises up higher. "How often has anyone walked in here? At the beginning of the semester, I can believe that. But since then, you're telling me it's happened even once?"

"—no."

She winks. It’s the definition of smug.

"Then consider the case closed. So here's an idea," she answers, a playful finger tap to her chin accompanying a pondering frown. "Get over yourself and don’t fucking worry about these things. How about you loosen up just a little? What's wrong about feeling a little—turned on? Hmmmm? Maybe I was just feeling extra creative with that paper a few weeks ago. Getting ready for a—" Her brows raise high, along with her legs. "—surprise."

Your jaw nearly drops again.

"Don't act so surprised now," Kyujin continues in mock sympathy. "Every time I showed up without panties, what was the first thing on your mind? Wasn't that I should go home, take them off, or change in the bathrooms?" She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "If anything, I should have stopped coming here completely after that. Do you know how much cleaner those bathroom stalls would've been?"

You hunch in your chair, elbows on your thighs and face in your hands.

Kyujin leans her head closer, whispering right in your face. "Admit it, that's the last thing on your mind,” she says, straightening her spine. "Because in the end, when it really comes down to it, the fact is, all you're thinking about is getting your hands up my skirt and bending me over and fucking me, don't you?"

Her stare bores into your soul. She slides off her seat and you stiffen—though it's clear you're already hard, and you've never tried to hide the fact after.

Slowly, she closes the gap. There's not a doubt in your mind that you both fucking want it.

You love her energy. How fiery it gets, how excited she becomes, how you're certain that even if you get up to try and stop her, there's no fighting against the flame that burns far too bright—the constant pushing, the fire within her that would refuse to die. The same spark that makes her look more attractive, because as a teacher, there are no better kinds of students to find except for the rebellious ones. It’s both a blessing and a curse. God, you just wish it was applicable to being a good student instead of—this. 

Back to the point at hand: when your gazes meet, Kyujin already looks utterly smitten.

"Come on. Lemme ask you one question and give a straight answer: Have I, in any way, been a bad student?"

"Kyu, I already told you not—"

Cutting you off, she pushes down on your lap until you're slumped back against the chair and leaning away from the desk, meeting you eye to eye, with nowhere to go but only the heat emanating from her. Her thighs wrap around your hips as her arms wind around your shoulders, keeping you trapped and her breath only a few hairs away. It's much more difficult to look her in the eye than to run away.

"Answer. The. Question.” She’s dead serious. It’s a rare out of character moment. “Have I? Ever?” Been? A? Bad? Student?”

And damn, does she sound angelic when she makes her demand in that lower, possessive voice.

For a split second, you can't remember the last time someone has roused you to the point of forgetfulness and, admittedly, insanity.

No—you always have something to say, an argument to throw back at her. It's why you always hate this feeling of being backed into a corner, no matter what situation, especially one such as this. Yet here's the one girl, one student—who you know well enough can drive you wild at her will—looking to lay claim. You give into her only once, and she’ll only dig your grave six feet deeper.

At least for a while longer, and only this time, just this once, because a part of you truly just wants to loosen up, forget about everything—even if it's just for tonight—and do what Kyujin wants. After months and months of dealing with nothing but reports, essays and papers that just about push you to the end of your limits, taking a chance on whatever this might turn out to be exactly what you need.

And this was just a perfect way to get you to finally break. To become entirely enraptured—at her mercy.

A better reward than a measly 'A.'

"Professor, Professor. Stop fantasizing."

With an embarrassed gulp, you meet the eyes of your grinning student, relishing how red your cheeks are turning as if she's the one caught with her pants down instead of the other way around.

"Y-Yeah?" you stumble.

"What'd we just go over, professor? Hmm? Not a bad student, right?" she teases.

Despite how pathetic you're being and how fucking clichéd all of this is, Kyujin plays you like a fiddle, and you give nothing but soft moans in response.

It's never easy being on this end, at least not entirely. Not just from a teacher's point of view, but a general experience standpoint. Though this is the first time you've felt comfortable enough and truly enjoy giving control away, with someone you can trust enough and that seems like she would genuinely be there for you.

You want to break her. Ruin her. Do whatever, whenever and wherever she pleases.

"Sorry. Sometimes, just sometimes," you begin as you lick your lips, your hand rubbing her thigh, slowly ascending its way towards her inner heat, a grin starting to appear at how her face starts to warm. "When it comes down to it, it's really hard to think when you're—" Your gaze tilts to her legs, how she's now straddled on your lap. "—like this."

Kyujin raises her eyebrow. A smile begs to peek out. "Really, now?" she grins. "I mean, I shouldn't be surprised you're not used to this, so I get it."

"Yeah."

It's the kind of answer that lets you relax into a comfort that's always too appealing for you, the kind that comes at the worst of times. But once Kyujin presses her lips gently to yours, a welcomed hunger sweeps across every inch, replacing all other desires with another, bigger, messier problem that feels far more urgent and dangerous than the other tasks piled upon you.

If she has a care in the world, then you're glad you can't feel any of it.

"No complaining," she whispers in a short moment of breath between kisses.

"About?"

"Whatever’s on your list. Paperwork, dates, etc. Not when I’m here."

You roll your eyes with a beaming smirk. “You know damn well that’s fucking impossible.”

Her arms loosen until they come to rest on top of your shoulders. Her nose presses gently against yours. "Today, though, that date was the farthest thing from your mind, hmmmm?" Her gaze shifts slightly. "At least with regards to the kind where it involves the two of us having a bit of fun. The two of us, hanging out—"

Another kiss. "—and fucking like animals."

She almost yelps at the sudden grip that grabs her ass, a soft chuckle escaping her lips, tickling your skin as it bounces off.

"Admit it." Her smile is too wicked. It drives you mad. "In the midst of all the day-to-day bullshit, knowing what happens beyond closed doors—with me—makes it more bearable, hmm? Made your days a bit more—tolerable?"

Your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way; this girl truly does know your deepest secrets. If only you didn't, but you know exactly what she's hinting at. There's nothing more relevant now, more delicious than a nice, firm ass under your palm and, once she lifts off of your thighs, an eager hole begging to be pounded and used.

"God, fuck yes, Kyujin—" you sigh against her neck, leaving a few marks on her delicate skin, eliciting a whine from her sultry lips. You can't help it; your grip on your self-control is gradually dying with each moment you're not inside her. "The times I've had you like this—"

With every kiss and every inch closer you lean toward her, the tighter her grip on your hair and neck, leaving scratches in return. She may not admit it herself, but Kyujin likes these tender, intimate moments just as much as how hard you take her. Moments where she can feel just how pent-up you are, how desperate you are to bury yourself inside her cunt, how every moan, groan or whine brings a part of her back to life, when it gets a little softer, more subtle, not when the fire burns bright and hot—but when the flame softens into the simmer of a boiling pot, full of plenty more to savor and taste.

"Touching you through your underwear and skirt, squeezing on your ass, fingering this fucking wet cunt—"

Your thumb finds her pussy, dragging itself between her folds.

Her reaction is exactly what you're expecting; a combination of soft whimpers and trembling bodies that never grows tiring to watch. It's exactly what you needed, something to watch and to listen to while being driven up the wall with desire and want and—

—she snickers, wiggling against your aching bulge.

Kyujin swivels her hips as if grinding out the motion you were searching for. Her smirk widens as your grip on her shoulder and hip tightens and you become entranced with her figure and everything about it, feeling as if you'll lose your balance at how quickly things are changing for the worse, with the world growing dim and the light narrowing solely on her tight, delicious body.

"Mm, you're making this so—fucking—hard. Why can't you just fuck me already?" she whines, pushing your head up to meet her at the lips once more.

The thought doesn't linger when your mouths connect, not while the world around you falls into darkness, and her every curve and feature takes your breath away. Every single time. It's the sight of her flushed and whining, of the moments when a deep growl emanates from the depth of your throat and, from the bottom of your core, just wants to break something beautiful in the purest of ways. It's what you're best at and want nothing else: wrecking the perfect piece of artwork so you can feel something again—

"How often does that happen?" she laughs mockingly, "Thoughts like that cross your mind as often? How much you want to fuck me?"

"—Only a few times a day."

You give a loud snort and an exaggerated eyeroll at how direct you sound, how lost you are, completely unaware at what you're spilling out, but it's the truth; you haven't let her come up for air in between long enough periods to give that nagging conscience of yours a second thought.

"Mostly about getting you in this office. Sitting down and having your pretty face take a few loads of my cum," you continue, pushing away her soft, black waves. A fingertip trails over to her chest, rubbing them and watching the goosebumps appear, Kyujin's face lit with warmth and that ever-welcomed tension that appears after a tease. "No—let me reword: putting that gorgeous mouth to good use. Picking you up and pushing your pretty self on top of my desk and pounding into your juicy, tight holes."

Her lip begins to tremble. She turns away and tilts her head, all shy, coy, and beautiful, and if your cock wasn't about to rip a hole through your pants, you might've been more poetic about it.

Instead, all you can muster is the few thoughts in your mind, though not as flowery and thought-out, nor very appealing, compared to Kyujin.

"Too—long," you wheeze through another kiss, biting the side of her lip. You're finding it a challenge to put together full sentences now, especially when her breathing's getting so rapid, so heavy, while you're sucking her neck, licking and nibbling up and down the column of her throat, barely paying heed to what words leave your mouth. "It's been way too fucking long."

Suddenly, she breaks away mid-kiss and puts some distance. Shaking her head, tossing it back and forth with a mischievous laugh. "Exactly my point, isn't it? Then maybe you should actually do something about it—if you're not being a pussy-ass bitch."

Her brows wiggle. "Enough of the lovey-dovey crap. Just fuck me already."

Once Kyujin’s finished chatting up a storm, she reaches down. Her fingertips are right above your bulge and oh—shit, how badly do you wish she'd have an easy time with the zipper, undoing the button that keeps it all together. For her, you'd undress yourself in a split second without a shred of dignity left in your bones, without a moment's hesitation to ask whether you look good or not. Because what's even the fucking point. There's absolutely no reason to beat around the bush when your girl's got you whipped.

"I've waited long enough."

Phew.

It's that damned voice again. With all the impatience and confidence you wish to have but lacking the natural fire she has.

"Poor thing. A little stiffy that needs my assistance?" she pouts before slipping her fingers through the hem of your pants. Your boxers provide almost no buffer as her knuckles brush your aching hardness, creating friction that might as well have set your entire body ablaze. It would take not much more for her to have you writhing underneath, choking on air, burning under her spell and how desperately you're holding on to her hips to not simply get up and throw her right onto your desk, lifting her ass in the air and slamming your throbbing cock in. "Should I see just how hot and hard our professor is right now?"

"Fucking tease."

"And proud." Her tongue pokes out instinctively, like its second nature. “That’s for the fucking time stall. Wasting my time for no fucking reason with random bullshit when I could be taking it right now.”

"Since when were you this—insufferable?" you groan out, moving her hand and guiding it back where she first started: at the waistband. A twinge of annoyance appears across her face.

"Show some gratitude. You have a willing young woman all the way up here to tend to that hard, weeping dick of yours."

You crack an exhausted smile. "Sure, whatever."

There is very little you could actually do about her attitude. After all, that's the primary reason she has you turned on so badly and wanting more of her in the first place.

Kyujin takes your hands off her waist, her wide-eyes matching the innocent tilt to her head. The illusion would be completely believable, were it not for the obvious lack of clothing between her legs. Dragging one hand down, she teasingly slips it between the tight space, touching everything from her knees to inner thighs.

It's an overwhelming tease, borderline agonizing. She waits just the right amount of time in between to take her gaze away from you, eyes gazing all over the room before coming back and fluttering her lashes, checking your expression—while not once straying far from her lewd motions. Her lips slowly pull back into a wide grin when your fingertips move close enough to reach their mark. 

As soon as she moans, you freeze. 

She’s so wet. Achingly, devastatingly wet.

Your fingers disappear completely and she nearly falls off your lap from how sharply her knees lock in place, but Kyujin manages to straighten up. Her arms are wrapped around your neck for support, nearly face to face as she steadies herself and looks you dead in the eyes. She's the picture perfect of desire and heat and arousal all at once.

"You're asking me to take you right now," you say, lifting a puzzled brow. "But what’s with the slow burn, Miss Jang?"

Tilting her head, she smirks again, like she will fucking explode if she doesn't act coy or bratty within five seconds. "Fine. I was getting comfortable with your fingers, but if you want it so bad—"

With a quick slide down of her zipper, her shirt parts, revealing the black bra hiding beneath. She looks sexy in everything: any dress, pants, skirts, shirt. In a nice, cute and even nerdy sweater, button-up, even a school blouse or hoodie. No matter what, she will be utterly fucking irresistible, but when she’s so blatant about the way she dresses—Christ.

"Now what?" she purrs. Her skin's smooth and warm, heating rapidly. "Want me to strip, so you can gawk over the sight of me, as per usual?"

Your body moves for you and not because of you. As soon as Kyujin pushes your shirt higher, it takes a small stretch and the quick tug of two sides of the collar before it drops to the floor, completely forgotten and ignored. She takes a glance before leaving a soft kiss, chuckling in satisfaction at the taste of your bare skin, her lips hanging open and a pleasant breath escapes her. 

She pushes your hips further into the chair until her spine curves and her arms hang lazily on your shoulders. It's only natural, then, that your fingertips dance across the milky skin of her back, climbing its way to the small hooks that lie around the edges of her bra, already taking its own fair share of Kyujin's patience. You decide not to mess with her any more than usual, unhooking them and letting her carry it the rest of the way until the only thing covering her upper body is the low-hanging skirt sitting on the dip of her hips.

"These—" You give one last gentle push and slide down the straps. "—are gone, too, yes?"

She rolls her eyes. "I sure fucking hope so. Hurry up and undress me. Christ, we're so goddamn slow today."

As a tease, you lurch forward, lips crashing, kissing her cheek instead. Kyujin immediately turns towards the touch but by the time her hands reach the sides of your jaw, you're already lowering. Your hands fall on her now perky chest, squeezing each of her supple tits in your hands.

You grope until both hands move back upwards, allowing room for what little pieces of clothing remain to be stripped off and kicked away, along with all the other things left on your office floors, leaving you both equally naked.

As a bit of a reward—because, honestly, you're so hungry, so impatient, and her reactions were just too funny to pass up—Kyujin can't help but let out the quietest moan when your grip finds its rightful place at each side of her waist. A thrill spreads over you and your eyes catch the glistening remnants of what's already in between her thighs, making it just a little bit harder to keep all control, especially with your cock so deep, right down the throes, at the precipice of entering that sweet, hot and tight feeling.

Kyujin gives an inaudible moan and her nose flares. When your tip rubs against her entrance, your hands reach forward. A brief second is spent lingering over her toned stomach before cupping both tits in your hands once more. The next moan isn't quiet, nor the ones following afterwards.

"You should—ah, fuck—" Kyujin shakes her head and stifles a few louder sounds threatening to come out. "You know you're the reason, yeah? Just putting a hand anywhere and you're already making a mess."

"Well, I'm sure this will, too."

Both your thumbs brush up her nipples, squeezing her breasts and appreciating how full they feel in your clutch, pinching, pulling and twisting at her sensitive peaks. At the same time, her breath picks up, but there are no more sounds for her to make as she bites the bottom of her lip, with cheeks rosy and blushing brightly in her typical flustered way.

"Dammit, you're so utterly shameless," she whines.

"Oh, don't be such a brat about this,” you chastise, giving her chest another playful slap. "I know you fucking love it when I play with these tits."

Barely able to manage a glare at your cheeky smirk and laugh, she yelps. The insufferable energy flows off you without hesitation and, quite frankly, it's what drives Kyujin buckwild. There's always something there to wind her up, to play with a reaction she's tried to not let you notice all this time.

You shake your head, shifting around her body. "Keep complaining and there really might be consequences, Kyujin."

The faux-innocence she's put forth this whole time instantly crumbles; the glee in her face transforms into unapologetic amusement that quickly falls away, changing her mood from embarrassment to arrogance in the blink of an eye.

"Aww—whatcha gonna do? Gonna punish me?" Kyujin sputters out in between a stifled snicker. “Do you not hear me scream and beg for more every time we fuck? Do you ever think, even once, that the staff could hear us whenever you bend me over and cum all over my cunt?"

"Then tell me if I'm hitting the right spots, yeah?” you reply,  “Be a good girl for me."

When you take your cock in your hand and brush it against her aching core, watching her wince and tremble at your touch—it tells you everything.

"God, just put it in—" she grits out, pulling you close. "Fuck me—"

"Doesn't sound like someone begging for it."

"Oh, don't you fucking do this to me right now—" she whines, moaning, throwing her head back as you tease her cunt. "Fuck me, please—fucking use me—"

"Still not feeling it."

"Agh!" she cries out, her patience at a breaking point. "Please! Put it in! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Kyujin melts into your arms like putty as you finally give her exactly that—a deep, pulverizing stroke into her sopping cunt. Her lips meld in a luscious, wide 'O' as she takes it all—body quivering, hands gripped on the edges, her legs spread wide as you take her against your desk.

It takes a moment, as her suffocating walls overwhelm you, leaving you breathless beyond comparison. She's so fucking tight, so fucking hot, so fucking inviting.

As you finally start to move, pulverizing heat builds quickly your bodies collide, pounding her against the desk with reckless abandon.

No preamble, no easing into the rhythm; you dive in raw—just the way she likes it.

With her cunt so slippery and hot, your cock fits into her cunt without much effort and great ease. Her warmth welcomes you hungrily as a growing whimper. Moans drip through the small gaps of her gritted teeth and pursed lips.

"God, you're so fucking tight, so fucking good—" you grit out, grunting between thrusts as you hold onto her waist.

And she responds in kind, her breasts bouncing with every stroke, leaving your gaze enraptured, unsure where to linger.

"Yes, that's it—" she hisses, her voice flying all over the place with every moan. "Keep going—it's so good—so fucking amazing—"

Her pussy drags you in deeper as she thrusts her hips forward, until your bodies match perfectly. She lets out a series of curses, each one thrown in with a pathetic squeak or sound as her wet, warm cunt gets stuffed full over and over and over again, as your fingers tighten and press marks into her porcelain skin.

"I-is that—too much? Is my cock—so good you can't fucking shut up?"

Her lips pull into a wild, maniacal grin. Yet all that teasing does little to hide the fact she can't fucking take it. That she folds effortlessly like paper every time you fuck her. It is, in fact, the only way she doesn't sound insufferable to your ears.

"God—just keep going—shut up—can't help it—it's just so fucking—"

The words die on her lips, reduced to lewd, husky moans and cries.

Her nails bury deeper into your chest, body keeping pace with you as she leaves several deep marks in the process. But Kyujin can't stay silent, no matter what. The build up is becoming too much—to not be given an orgasm, not to be pleasured after she's spent so much of her own time on your lap and waiting endlessly to be filled with your cock.

"Yes, yes yes—gonna make me cum—" she whines out as a few tears of desperation build, her face a pretty flush of crimson. Tossing her hair behind her ear, whimpers falling from her lips as effortless and natural as every thrust you give her."So—so close—"

A forceful snap of your hip and a hand falling over her neck, holding Kyujin down to the desk, pushing her tongue from the inside as you give it a light squeeze—it does something wild to you. With her pinned down, unable to budge or move, helpless—she starts crying harder.

"Such a fucking brat—take it—"

And as your thrusts pick up in intensity, so does her begging.

"Want it, want it, please—"

"What do you want?" you demand, dropping your voice low in response. Her mouth can't seem to function fast enough and her mind's getting lost in the endless haze.

"Use my pussy—oh, God—"

"Be specific," you breathe.

"Wreck it, fuck it, claim it—I'm yours. This fucking pussy—all yours."

"Not loud enough."

"Take me! Choke me! Slut me out! Make me your fucking slut!"

That’s all it takes. The last of your resolve dies with her request. Without restraint, your other hand wraps around her neck and applies heavy pressure, cutting off her air and watching how it affects her entire body.

Your strokes are relentless, though it only makes her wriggle all the more and causes that coil deep down her gut to twist itself up even further, like a vice grip wrapped so tightly around the base of her spine, to the point it leaves her thrashing and struggling.

Her moans are freefalling and everything that should stop it simply—doesn't.

"I'm cumming, Kyu—" you grit out, that knot in your stomach beyond containment at this point.

"Yes, fuck—" she stifles out, meeting you thrust for thrust. "Cum for me—fucking unload all that cum inside me—"

A staccato rhythm to each pump as you push past those gates, slamming her cunt like it's never been used this thoroughly. Her pleasure drowns you, sending you off on a frenzy, holding on for the life of you, grasping her tight and firm and letting go in an instant.

Your undoing hits you suddenly like a tidal wave: worse than an earthquake, strong like an aftershock—powerful, unstoppable and uncontrollable. It leaves you unable to think or move. You simply ride it out, your body, mind and spirit giving in to that urge. The way your hips thrust with animalistic desire. The way you slam yourself forward with as much drive as you can muster.

"Such a good little toy—fuck—so much—"

Every wave and every spasm comes crashing, bringing you that much needed release and spreading through all the muscles of your lower body. You fall limp and powerless, giving her your all. Pressing yourself forward, eager to feel those gorgeous lips before grabbing Kyujin's jaw and throwing her into a heated embrace, sliding her back across the wood and sharing the juices from between her legs.

You break for air, pulling her close and setting a kiss to her forehead. A complete change of pace to what just transpired moments ago.

"God," you sigh, catching the sweat on her body in the evening glow and allowing the flush to completely wash away your brain cells. "That was—”

But the sentence is left unfinished. Your thoughts can't string together words worth noting when Kyujin still hasn't moved off you yet and the next words are snatched from your lungs, forced out with the strength she uses to push you down. Her gaze doesn't stray long as your head collapses against the chair, still half-conscious from the last orgasm.

The sight is positively breathtaking; it makes you throb. It makes her moan and giggle, knowing just how badly she affects you. You can only look and stay speechless and absolutely whipped by the view: Kyujin gingerly leaning over your desk, naked and glistening in sweat and her thighs drenched in your cum, leaking over the worn wood before she climbs on top of it.

"A lot. Yeah."

It's blunt, matter-of-fact.

Kyujin tilts her head as her fingers dip between her legs, pooling a sample for a taste. Seductively placing it in her mouth, she takes a moment to savor your load.

"So—so fucking good."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter either way if I can't say 'no,’ huh?" you fire back, watching how the dimmed light illuminates her flawless body. Kyujin gives it one last slow lick as she flicks her hand, rubbing the sticky cum between her fingertips on her skin and squeezing out whatever's left from between her thighs.

Her brows arch upwards, feigning an expression of concern. Kyujin places a hand to her chest and makes a little 'o' shape with her mouth.

"Can I use your mouth? I feel as though that'd be better in this situation."

"Brat."

"Thoroughly enjoyed that, though. Gives me hope we could be at this a while."

"Christ—you're terrible."

She merely laughs, popping a finger in her mouth and sucking the leftover load off her digits with a big smack of her lips.

"Dare I say the worst thing about all that?" You look up and stare wide-eyed as she positions herself before you, turning around to show her ass, spreading it wide with her hands, revealing her tight asshole and the dripping cunt leaking beneath. Your words die at the mouth. 

It's such a lovely view. She smirks knowing it gets you hard quickly.

"The fact we both know you're going to ask for another go,” she finishes.

"As if," you barely manage to croak out.

"Oh, but here’s the thing is you just—fucked me. You left your cum dripping and filled my pussy up all nice." Kyujin stops to shake her hips, like a taunt, looking over her shoulder seductively and playfully. "Doesn't your pretty, hard dick want some more? Just how well it belongs on the inside, warm and snug. We both know that isn't going to stop that filthy imagination."

"We'll see."

"Yup. Good luck. For now, it's all you."

She does it again, this time bending it forward and wiggling her ass right in front of your face. It's an invitation and a challenge all at once.

The sight makes your twitch, which sends your eyes widening again in mild shock. You lean forward and grab her ass, squeezing on her plump flesh, until you give one cheek a harsh, abrupt slap.

Kyujin yelps. You give the other its rightful slap. She keens again. Then, a brief pause.

"Then I guess we should stop talking."

Another slap. You deliver the next smacks with each hit growing harder and see her skin redden as you watch her body react with every hit. Reaching over and tracing the indent, all the way down her crease, a soft finger pad brushes against her puckered entrance. She whines in arousal, bending just the smidge closer to feel you.

"Use me. Again." Kyujin looks over her shoulder once more, through her long dark locks. "Need to feel it."

You'll happily comply. Another. A few more for good measure. Her back arches and her breath goes shaky, but she doesn't break.

When she whimpers her soft cry of your name, you know exactly what she's about to beg.

"Stop thinking so much, stupid," she continues in that inviting one of hers as you desperately stroke your cock back to life, lining yourself behind her wet, needy core.

When the tip, or really what you can work yourself into, bottoms out her first tight ring, and then the second, all you can think about is how fucking nice this feels. The urge and hunger has risen so fast within your core, your cock becomes a rod of steel, blood rushing back and pulsing until that painful swell between your hips brings Kyujin that delightful kind of stretch as you slide inside.

"Bend me over and make me take it," she chokes out. The fire has already caught flame and both your hips are pushing out of sync, just a touch clumsy and uncoordinated. "Want that fucking cock right here—fuck!"

Kyujin gasps when the feeling courses throughout, and the flush is something she's unsure she can cover up anymore. You reach forward and press yourself fully on top of her, chest flushed against back, and using an open palm to keep her down, forcing her torso to remain flush against the tabletop, completely flat as she wriggles helplessly beneath.

With each thrust, you sink deeper into her sweet, slick depths, bottoming out inside. She finds herself spiraling into a pool of pleasure and heat with no chance of escape—even more so now that she's fully arched forward on the desk.

"Gonna take what's mine—can't fucking believe I get to use this fucking hole for free."

It's utterly perfect. A delicious tightness and an equally silky heat that completely wrecks her tighter hole in and out of her as she pushes backwards with every ounce of strength her tired muscles could muster, filling the room with an erotic sound that hits your ears all at once; that wet, satisfying slap, slap, slap of bodies coming together.

A brief, small pause as you give it another soft prod—her wet heat enveloping you all at once—before you shove yourself inside her puckered ass with a mind shattering impact. It leaves her aching and twitching with pleasure, as much as her body allows.

"Uh-huh, I'm-I'm your slut—" Kyujin whines, but it comes out so weak, so hoarse—her throat is unable to make coherent sentences.

Pulling on her hair, watching as she completely relents under your touch. There's no time to break the contact as she sucks in the last gasp of air and sighs. She leans in until she rests flat over the surface, her lungs only able to manage a desperate exhale.

The friction is so goddamn maddening, so intoxicating, and she feels that deep pulse—your body pounding and beating her like a drum, but there's this persistent feeling—her asshole begging and clenching for more. She is beyond lightheaded and out of breath.

And the world's tilting and you're grasping at nothing, unable to comprehend just how Kyujin's mouth works, that cock-starved face and greedy lewd noises of her moans and grunts as her body melds to match the thrusts of yours.

It is no different with this—having the luxury, the freedom to fuck her how you want; the next moments of time slipping by without a care.

"Stay still," you cut before she says anything—into her ear, right sending tingles down her spine. "Gonna fucking cum again—"

Everything else stops, including you and your rhythm, slowly falling into place and not being quite as fast. You lean back a little to slip a hand below her chin and press fingers between her teeth. Squirming, quivering as her clit finally gets some much-needed stimulation. Kyujin trembles with the kind of ache that goes deep into her bones and in the same instant, those heavy lashes close as her mind goes blank. She shudders, slumping flat over the table, but somehow manages to brace herself with weakened elbows.

Then there's a bit of silence—a gap, a pause as it hangs in the air, watching your cock bury itself inside her hole with a mind numbing rhythm. And now she's sensitive all over, all senses on overdrive, quivering, whimpering, struggling, but still chasing after her climax.

You let your fingers drop between her cheeks, hooking them and squeezing them together. Kyujin gasps quietly, her breaths turning sharp. She writhes at the relentless assault on her senses, especially with your fingers playing with the slick gushing out from her cunt. And in a second of reprieve from the constant waves, you drive it back to the start.

"Wanna fucking pump all my cum in that hungry little hole—come here—"

She lets out a shaky groan as you continue working her with short, erratic thrusts, her feet knocking against the legs of the table.

It is that power and that force that makes her squeal and moan uncontrollably. Kyujin has never been so perfectly at your mercy like this. It is something she thinks she should be embarrassed by and yet, she can't hide just how much it gets her off. She wants to give in. She wants to feel herself fall, in this case quite literally, completely off the table, with only you to catch her like you’re her knight in shining armor.

"That's it. Moan for me," you grumble, letting a guttural grunt roll through the air. Your hands grab her hips, pulling her flush against your body as the sound of skin slapping against skin resounds once more and you snap your own, like a tidal wave. "Fucking let it all out—”

Her hands, firmly gripped on the desk with white knuckles, fail to stifle her whiny, desperate keening, which ebbs and flows.

"Fucking love this, love every fucking second, the way your asshole milks my cock. I can't fucking describe how it feels. Like, how—"

As the tension begins to grow and those nerves are teased in the best possible ways, so does Kyujin in riding that peak, even higher now than the last and the moment when she snaps, coming undone. She ripples through the waves until they wash away, unable to stop moaning and grinding into your soft touch, fueled by the need to buckle and whimper. It is her way of taking a breath and stealing a moment of air.

All that remains in her ear and seared into her memory is you. It’s your voice she can hear echoing between her thoughts, guiding her past the pleasurable afterglow and easing Kyujin into a gentle rest, until it's her name again. It is said with a comforting lilt, soothing and low, giving her heart a reason to skip a beat. She sighs deeply. The touch between her legs feels electric and with you just one thrust away, all she could do was sway from side to side and lose control.

And as you grip her tightly and slam it back in, she buries her face on the table, folding her body entirely against the sturdy wood. You only stop briefly to regain some form of stability and composure; your arms still shake uncontrollably as the pleasure grows beyond what you can bear. A final, rather intense round of thrusting and then she falls to a sudden, jarring silence. 

Kyujin crumples as the pressure fades away. A hand traces her cheek as you smile down on her. 

Pouring it all into her hole, burying yourself deep to the hilt, avoiding to waste a single drop. You give it one last thrust, pressing down firmly enough to earn another squeak before withdrawing and standing back up—but not without giving her ass one final slap of appreciation. It leaves an imprint on her already flush cheek and she deeply exhales at the unwelcome loss.

She hums as you slump back into your chair, worn out, utterly drained and tuckered out.

"Need anything? I could go get us some water," you suggest, flashing her that smug, cocksure grin as your fingers rake her hair and sweep it over her shoulder. She just looks and gives a weak nod.

Kyujin heaves out a deep, exhausted breath. Her mouth hangs slack-jawed. It makes you snort. 

"Shut up."

She sighs again. Her body relaxes to match her now calm demeanor.

"Y'know," she whimpers out, throwing you a playful look. “I wasn’t actually expecting you to take my fucking ass like that.”

“Not when you were begging for it with that ass,” you answer, shaking your head. “Great, now what are we gonna do later tonight, then?” Kyujin laughs and hops onto your seat, peppering kisses along your neckline, making a low rumble in your throat. The possibilities only bring her back to life, as you feel that tongue in your ear, nibbling on your lobe.

You’ll figure it out, as you always do. Because Kyujin is as pliable as she’s unbearable. —————

The baby’s been asleep for fifteen minutes.

And that’s all Minju needs.

You’re on the couch when she walks in—robe half open, loose curls falling past her shoulders, lips glossed and thighs spilling out of black lace garters and thigh-high stockings. She’s barefoot, slow in her steps, and so fucking hot you feel your cock twitch from just one glance.

“I’ve missed the way you look at me when you’re hard,” she says, eyes dropping to your lap. “And I know you’ve been holding back. For our baby. For me.”

You swallow. “Min—”

She slides her robe off. Underneath? A sheer black thong clings to her wet slit. Stockings hug her plump thighs. Her tits—bigger now, fuller from nursing—bounce softly with every step.

“I’ve healed, babe. It’s been months.”

She climbs onto your lap, grinding against your cock.

“And I want it again. I want you again.”

You groan.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” she purrs, cupping your face. “The way you shower too long. The way you avoid sleeping too close. I know you’ve been aching to cum. But I want your first load… right here.” She grabs your hand and slides it down to her pussy, her thong soaked through. “I want to feel it leak out of me again.”

Your cock throbs.

She smirks. “You gonna give me a baby again?”

By the time you’re in the bedroom, you’re tearing your clothes off like a man starved. Because you are. Minju is bent over on the bed, thong tugged aside, her thick, creamy thighs parted wide.

You spread her ass cheeks.

“Fuck… you’re dripping.”

“I’ve been ready for weeks,” she whispers, voice needy. “I just needed you to snap.”

You line your cock up to her slick hole, veiny and angry, precum already drooling from the tip. You haven’t cum in so fucking long. And now?

You slam in.

“AH—fuck—yes—" Minju cries out, arching, back curving like a pornstar as you bottom out. "God, you’re thick—" Her voice cracks, breathless. “So deep—finally—oh fuck…”

You grip her hips and rail her. Months of abstinence fuel every thrust, your balls heavy, cock stretching her out with full brutal strokes. Her walls squeeze you like they missed you, like her pussy remembers every contour of your dick.

“Listen to that,” you growl, hips smacking against her ass. “Listen to your pussy begging for it.”

Minju’s moans are shameless. “Breed me. Don’t stop. Fuck me like you’re starving.”

You are. You grab her hair, yank her up, your chest pressed to her back.

“You wanna get pregnant again?” you whisper against her ear. “Wanna be leaking my cum while holding our baby?”

She moans, eyes rolling.

“Yes—yes—fucking yes—cum in me, babe. Fill me. Knock me up again.”

Your cock throbs, twitching.

“Fuck, I’m gonna blow—”

You slam in, balls slapping, and unload.

The orgasm hits like a cannon.

You bury yourself balls-deep and explode. The first spurt is so thick and powerful Minju yelps—her womb flooded with weeks’ worth of backed-up cum. It pours out in ropes, the sound obscene, your breath gone, your grip digging into her hips.

You don’t pull out. You just stay there, buried inside, twitching, filling her nonstop.

“Oh my god,” Minju gasps, panting. “You’re still cumming—fuck—I can feel it all—”

You shudder, pulling her close as your seed leaks out around your cock, her pussy unable to hold it all. A thick, creamy drizzle runs down her thighs and onto the sheets.

She collapses onto the bed, dazed. You follow, still hard, still inside.

“You good?” she whispers, out of breath.

You chuckle, lips brushing her neck.

“I’m not even close to done.”

Nakyoung giggles, shaking her head and pursing those perfect little lips of hers. "Who else is going to come rescue me if things go south?"

That's almost unfair, given she's always gotten her way by pulling that sort of card with you. The truth is you're weak, especially against a girl as cute as her. With innocent eyes so pleading, that smile, her fluttering lashes. And then there's the hand inside your unbuttoned pants, that firm grip around your hard cock while you're pressed up against the library shelves, trying your hardest to keep quiet while her slender fingers stroke along with a little less innocence.

"Please?" Nakyoung pleads in your ear as she tightens that grip, thumb rubbing just under the swollen tip as it leaves behind a sticky trail. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top? All I need is an hour at most, and then you can go back to studying or whatever you need."

You can't stop the groan that comes when she starts kissing at that sensitive spot behind your neck. Or the shudder when you feel her tight fist squeezing from the head of your cock down to your base, nice and slow in one fluid motion.

"W-what do I get out of it, then?" you reply as best as you can, unable to take your eyes off those tempting lips. Or the peek you get when the v-cut of her shirt gives you a glimpse of the black lace hiding under.

"Me? Is my company not enough?" Nakyoung responds with feigned sadness, stroking at a torturously slow rhythm to drain out the last bit of your restraint. "But if you really want something more, my hand around your cock, finishing the job should convince you, no?"

It's almost a miracle you can maintain an ounce of composure, considering how Nakyoung has her hand shoved down your pants.

She loves not playing fair, not even bothering to hide the smirk on her face while your fingers dig into the edge of the shelf, trying so hard not to let yourself fall victim right there and then.

"Alright, f-fine," you sigh, seeing that cute smile spread over her face right away. It's that satisfaction, that smugness she enjoys from getting her way. But also those fingers around your shaft that stroke a little faster with each passing second, so determined to get you over the edge.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it, silly?" she murmurs, now stroking at a more rapid, steady rate, making you throb inside that fist of hers. "But you are—so consider this a thank you in advance."

And she has no qualms, jerking you off in a public space of all places, pumping even faster now that she has the answer she wants. No better bribery, you suppose.

"O-one hour. And then—fuck," you mutter, and the more you struggle, the more Nakyoung seems to grip tighter. Relentless in how she brings you closer with each pump and twist, applying just enough pressure against the tip when her thumb rubs just so, right at that most sensitive spot.

"Well, now that I've got you to agree, how about two then?"

"Don't—" you warn in the instant when your balls tighten up and your hips jolt. "Don't push your fucking luck, Naky. One hour, and not a minute more."

Nakyoung just giggles, squeezing your cock tight. "If you insist."

And that's enough—right when her lips crash onto yours for the most frantic, messy kiss imaginable. It's hard enough to keep the sounds muffled, when you explode all over her fingers, no stopping the spasms that take over your body while hot, sticky cum flows over her fingers, spurting out so violently as she keeps stroking, until every last drop empties out.

"Knew this would work," Nakyoung says as she removes that hand and proceeds to casually lick her hand clean, tongue running between each finger while looking right at you the entire time. "And for the record, I definitely would've jerked you off regardless, so this wasn't all just a tactic to get what I wanted."

Good to know, you suppose.

Nothing coherent left you can string together now, watching Nakyoung turn and walk away with no rush at all while you stare, a sense of disbelief at what you've gotten yourself into.

"See you at the party, handsome!"

Nakyoung waves just as she disappears around the corner. You take a moment or two to zip yourself back up and gather yourself, barely registering anything in the moment as reality sinks in.

Now you've agreed to this, you can't very well back out, can you? There's a certain stubbornness to her. And then there's a certain stubbornness in you, unwilling to be anything but a man of your word.

One hour, or maybe a little more—that's manageable. Not like you'll be entirely around strangers. What could really be the harm in joining Nakyoung and a few other friends? It's just one hour. That should be easy enough.

You hope.

---

As you'd imagine, the moment you step in through the door to this unknown address a few blocks off campus, there's a bit of apprehension.

Music thumps off the walls, louder than even anticipated, with people you only have a vague awareness of. At least some of these faces are familiar, classmates of Nakyoung and yours. Others you're unfamiliar with. It's all very stereotypical, the house not particularly large, somewhat crowded, with beer bottles already lining the kitchen counters and red cups on almost every surface, sofas taken up by a number of people.

There's nothing interesting the first glance or two around, a little game of beer pong taking place in the open living room, a couple girls already making out at the bottom of the stairs—one of them with legs far too long, the other girl with a shirt far too tight. The decorations are questionable, you'd dare say, but you're not exactly here to critique. You're here for an hour of Nakyoung's time and maybe one drink. That's all this has to be.

Looking out through the big sliding doors on the other side, there's a little patio with some people hanging outside smoking, what you suspect is probably something other than cigarettes. Everything looks harmless for now, but still not entirely to your liking.

And right now, you don't even see Nakyoung anywhere. Only faces of people you vaguely recognize. If she doesn't show up in the next fifteen minutes, that would make a perfectly fine reason to go, you figure.

That's when your luck runs out and that familiar presence turns the corner, the figure you can't mistake for anyone else. Black high heels to start, and a black top that looks good on her. Very good. Showing off the slightest peek of her toned stomach, and enough cleavage to leave your mind wandering.

"There you are! You didn't ditch me after all," Nakyoung says, words already a little slurred and a playful smile to match as she throws her arms around you. It takes all your restraint not to let that gaze drop straight to her chest again.

"Thought about it for a moment."

Nakyoung has to fight back a laugh as she opens up a beer for you, which you hesitate to accept before getting caught up in that gaze again.

"Give it ten minutes. Once I get you started on beer, you'll warm up to everyone real quick."

"I really shouldn't—"

"Oh come on, you're at a party. Of course you should," Nakyoung encourages and pushes the cold, inviting bottle into your hands. "Just one won't hurt now, will it?"

Hard to disagree with that pleading look she gives, and before you can give it another thought, that frosty glass touches your lips, tilting back just enough to leave a taste of disappointment on your tongue.

When Nakyoung finds your free hand and squeezes, pulling you towards one of the little groups she knows at these events, there's no reluctance this time, because, quite frankly, alcohol or not, you know she's just too enticing that you'd follow her to the ends of the world and back.

"And this is my friend, by the way, everyone, from one of my classes," Nakyoung says in a far too excited tone, leading you to a tight group of three girls on the couch. "I've told you plenty about him, and he's agreed to babysit me for the evening."

"I don't remember signing off on that," you sigh and sit down on an open space on the sofa. The beer your only anchor while she scoots right in close, closer than you anticipate. And somehow, you're even more uncomfortable here on this little sofa, sandwiched between her body and the armrest.

"No, you definitely agreed to that," Nakyoung teases you, laughing. "Which means I need someone to look after me so I don't end up stumbling into a bush or off the balcony or anything else. So, that's why you're here."

"That's it?"

"Yes. And the cute face."

You roll your eyes, supposing there is a sense of truth to those words. The next swig of beer has instant regret all over it the moment you put the bottle down on the coffee table.

Nakyoung leans in closer, squeezing your thigh and leaving it there for an extra-long, torturous moment, for some weird sense of reassurance. "Oh, I guess I should introduce the rest. This is Jiyeon, from one of my early classes, Yubin and Nien from track—"

"You're in track?" you cut in, suddenly rather skeptical, especially with such athletic women in the midst.

"As long as it doesn't require too many hurdles or jumping, then, yes," Nakyoung admits with a laugh.

"Isn't that like half of track?"

That earns a snicker from one of the other girls, the one with the pink hair.

None of those names mean much to you right now, but you offer them a polite smile and take in the differences. One girl, Jiyeon; with braided pigtails, a shy smile, and an effortless kind of cuteness. Yubin sitting there and barely even looking up from her red cup in her hands. And then Nien, well, the most confident one, almost intimidating with her looks despite the pink hair tied up in a ponytail and a flower tattoo on her left shoulder.

They all seem harmless enough, at least not any red flags you can see, and certainly a lot better company than the rest of this house full of drunk strangers.

Nakyoung she seems even drunker already after a few sips, her words slurring more, and her affection far less contained than her sober form. "He's a total sweetheart, once you get past the initial silent, mysterious act."

"So, you two together then, Naky?" Yubin is the one to ask such a question without warning, but it's enough to make the other two turn their attention, expecting an answer. Nakyoung grins, head on your shoulder for a brief moment.

"N-no, no, we're just friends," she denies, even though that hand of hers is squeezing a little harder around your thigh now. "Just classmates, really. Well, I wouldn't say that exactly. We have fucked a few times though. Just recently. Maybe once or twice."

And that's your cue to nearly down the rest of your drink in one gulp.

"Jesus, Naky," you murmur and have to look away, your face reddening in an instant at how suddenly those words come spilling out.

Nakyoung laughs, not even attempting to hold anything back, because she knows how easily flustered you get. "What? We have, like three or four times this week alone."

"For fuck's sake, can we maybe not talk about this—" you interrupt and try your best not to choke on your drink, face turning bright red. The three girls opposite seem more than amused by it all, Nien even more so a surprising look of eagerness.

"Hey, no shame in enjoying yourself. We're all adults here, no?" the pink haired girl replies. "Just happy to hear one of us is getting some action."

"He's a really good fuck," Nakyoung admits as if you're not sitting right there next to her. Her words draw in even more interest, perhaps a little more than expected, those stares, those looks. "Why do you think I'm always late for class the following morning?"

Yubin and Nien laugh at her forwardness, while you just stay quiet, having no idea how to respond to this scenario, a whole range of expressions playing out on your face. And Jiyeon looks almost as embarrassed as you are, the more innocent of the group it seems, staying quiet throughout.

"Like, yeah, not gonna lie, that thing in his pants is kinda amazing," Nakyoung continues with no shame, no sense of hesitation. And with no filter at this point.

"Naky—you're fucking drunk, please," you plead with her, feeling more heat rising in your face with each passing second.

Nakyoung lets out a sweet little laugh, leaning over to kiss your cheek so tenderly. "Of course I am, that's how parties work, dummy. But fine, I'll stop talking about your nice cock and how I'm obsessed with it—"

And just like that, that soft pair of lips finds yours right away, intoxicating, pressing hard and leaving you without any more complaints. A rather raw, unfiltered display when she deepens the kiss within moments, getting her fingers tangled in your hair to keep you firmly in place.

"I'm gonna get another drink, wanna come with?" Jiyeon asks in an obviously flustered voice. "Yubam, I'm stealing you."

The moment those two get up, Nakyoung takes the opportunity to slide over into your lap without any warning, a mess of both booze and lust as those pouty lips find their way right along your neck. "You don't mind, do you, Nien, sweetie?"

All the pink-haired girl does is shake her head. That's how you know she's a good friend of Naky, far too unflustered, too used to the way she acts in these kinds of places. But you hardly have time to register it, when there's yet another sloppy kiss on your lips, wet, fervent, hands tugging hard on your hair. Her tongue slips into your mouth and makes it that much harder to concentrate on any thoughts, while her weight grinds into your lap.

And Nien just laughs, sipping her drink casually, legs crossed as she watches this make-out session unfolding, not at all bothered by it.

"Guess you're pretty easy to babysit when you're right here to keep an eye on," you mutter between hungry kisses, no more protesting in your state.

Nakyoung smiles, her hands holding firm to either side of your face. "I'll be even more manageable if we just take this into the bedroom—"

Your body tenses, head clearing up all of a sudden. It's like a sharp gust of cold wind hits you all at once, knowing full well what sort of implications lie behind those words. "Naky, no. W-we can't just—"

But Nakyoung looks right at you with this devious smile, as she runs a thumb over your lips. "Shush. Yes, we can. This place has plenty of empty rooms, the music is loud as hell in here, and everyone is too drunk to care either way."

There's nothing sensible enough to counter that, not with that sense of inevitability. Not with the alcohol loosening your senses and judgment.

"I'll keep watch," Nien suddenly offers with a coy little laugh. "Give me a text whenever you're done."

You groan and close your eyes, the music in the background making it impossible to think, while the feeling of Nakyoung's breath hot on your ear does the exact opposite.

"We might be a while." Nakyoung leans in to your ear, giggling, and grabs your wrist without so much a thought, latching on tightly. "Depends on how much stamina he has. Already drained him earlier today, but who knows..."

"I'm not getting out of this one, am I?"

You know the answer to that before you asked. "No, you're not. Plus, I still haven't given your surprise for tonight yet."

Nakyoung moves out of your lap just enough for you to get on your feet, pulling you up from the couch. Everything turns into a bit of a drunken stumble as she leads you away from the living room and up the stairs, Nien following a bit behind through the noise and chaos.

It's up here things get far more cramped, the second floor hallway filled with so many people, some making out, others who just couldn't be bothered to move out of the way. It's a place Nakyoung navigates far better in this drunken state, a place that threatens any sense of privacy you hope to find.

"This one's free, yeah?"

You're tugged along again, into an empty bedroom, one of many that line that hall. The sound of thumping dance music is a lot softer here, the two of you stumbling inside while Nien waits out in the hall, phone already in hand, keeping watch like she promised.

"God, you're fucking horny, aren't you?" you ask with the faintest chuckle, as Nakyoung kicks her heels off, locking the door behind you.

"No, I'm fucking wasted," Nakyoung corrects and takes a step forward to push you onto the bed, with just enough force and momentum so you land back with a soft bounce. "Which means I'm twice as horny."

But her words become less intelligible, the second she throws herself onto you. Nakyoung kisses with the fervor of a woman possessed, grabbing tight and clinging on to anything within reach. Within mere moments you feel those fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt, bringing it up over your head. There's hardly a word to describe it as she attacks your chest with kisses, hot, burning, fingers exploring all along your abdomen.

"Why does a pretty boy like you have to be so built as well?" Nakyoung murmurs, right as that tongue slides along your bare chest. "I can't help myself with you."

More kisses and more exploration. The trail along your chest leads right to your neck, a good number of people still outside who might hear every noise, every word, but she doesn't seem to care. It doesn't slow her down for a single moment. And your pants grow tighter with each breath, each touch.

"You know there's like a billion people out there," you remind her with some apprehension, which she takes as an invitation to start sucking all that sensitive skin.

"And? Probably a lot more than that. Let 'em hear. They can know how loud you make me scream," Nakyoung answers, so determined to not let you leave here without a few extra marks across your body. So she has no qualms in sucking, biting, using any tricks at her disposal.

But those noises soon drown out the second Nakyoung is peeling her black top over her head, throwing it aside with no regard for where it ends up. And revealing a pair of scrumptious tits hidden by that thin black bra that you've been dying for since you got here. Even covered up, Nakyoung's chest still gets you going, all pale and tempting, plenty to fill your hands once they come into reach.

"Told you there'd be a surprise, and I never break my promises," Nakyoung says in that oh so innocent tone of hers, when you can't help but stare once those hands start unhooking her bra from the back.

"New bra or something? Pretty sure I've seen them all by now, Naky," you say while she takes her sweet time in making you wait, each strap taking a painful few moments before being slowly pulled off those bare shoulders.

"No, not that. You'll see in just a second—"

The moment she leans away enough, that bra is loose, ready to slip right off her chest. All that anticipation just adds an extra layer of torment, but then comes the dramatic reveal—those perfect tits of hers with a tiny little addition this time. Just a slight glimmer when the light hits them, a metal stud shining. Two, to be more precise.

Right on her nipples.

It takes the breath right from your lungs, a mesmerizing sight as Nakyoung takes pride in your reaction, allowing you this moment of ogling those pierced, pretty nipples.

"What do you think?" Nakyoung asks, teasing one with a fingertip as you almost forget how to use your words for a second, just unable to look away.

"Holy shit—" is what comes out eventually, a reaction enough for Nakyoung to giggle. You lean forward and admire those shiny, brand-new additions that change the whole night. It changes the way her tits are that much more perfect, those pretty little nipples even far more appetizing. "Fuck, they look so good on you."

"They feel even better. Extra sensitive," Nakyoung assures as that confidence is all over her face. "So don't worry if you're a bit rough. Go on, touch them. Enjoy your surprise."

When she presses your palms into her tits, you give in right away, kneading one gently while your other hand plays with her freshly pierced nipples, rolling it between your fingertips and eliciting an extra loud gasp. Those perfect, supple tits in your hands feel better than ever with this new jewelry. Your fingers keep circling that nipple, pinching, twisting to see what she can handle.

It leaves Nakyoung to breathe all her little moans out, while you give these their first test drive.

"Oh my god... yeah, these definitely feel better, holy fuck," Nakyoung manages, gasping, her chest already heaving as your touches get a little rougher. There's a needy look in her eyes when you tweak one just enough, activating all that sensitivity and much more.

"I love them. They make your tits look even better." You can't imagine what you look like now, when you squeeze her breast in your palm, sitting up a bit straighter so you can latch on to the other. Taking that whole nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue over and around, sucking gently, and the way Nakyoung moans out is all the confirmation needed. Her fingers slip right into your hair again, nails digging in when you start sucking a little harder.

"Plus, you get a little extra to look at when I suck your cock."

As good as that sounds, you're far too focused on those stiff, slippery nipples and how your lips suck a little harder, flick a little faster to get more noises out of her. "Can't wait to have so much fun with these, Naky. Think I might not ever stop sucking on them."

"P-please, don't, your mouth is driving me crazy—"

Her breathing is getting louder, heavier by the second, taking advantage of how nice these new piercings look while you play with them. And just the smallest hint of teeth grazing causes Nakyoung to twitch, her whole body responding to each nibble, your hands pressing them together. "These fucking tits—I think my favorite part of you might be your tits."

"You're just realizing that now? You're obsessed with them, you have been for months," Nakyoung points out, already overwhelmed by what you can do with just your mouth. "But as good as this feels, I think your cock must be aching by now, am I right?"

If the growing bulge in your pants hadn't said it all already, it's very obvious once Nakyoung palms that area between your legs.

"Hard and throbbing just how I like it," Nakyoung murmurs, dropping to her knees off the bed. She undoes your zipper nice and slow, stroking you through your underwear once she tugs them down. "Hard as a fucking rock. All because of my tits."

"And your thighs too. Your lips, your pussy, your tight little asshole—fuck, the whole package really."

She giggles when you continue, those fingers slowing over your shaft, not providing too much pressure or stimulation yet. Just enjoying this light little contact for a few moments longer, until she does pull them off the rest of the way.

Then there's nothing but amusement at how your rock hard cock springs right out the second it's free.

"Can't hide anything with you," you grumble in defeat and lie back, completely exposed and bare for Nakyoung. As she gets situated between your legs, her hand wraps around your length, slowly stroking you.

"You could never hide anything this big. God, should have just sucked this thing downstairs in front of everybody instead," Nakyoung chuckles and spreads your thighs a little wider apart before her tongue presses right against your balls, slowly sliding upward, covering each inch with a warm, sticky coat of saliva.

"You're crazy. We can't even do this here without your friend out there on guard duty—"

Before you have time to form another protest, her tongue finds the tip, flicking around your swollen head a few times. From there, Nakyoung has no qualms of wrapping her lips around your cock, bobbing her head along your shaft. Just barely taking the whole length in those first moments. It's an intoxicating feeling, especially when her mouth is just the perfect mixture of warm and wet, paired with those hungry noises she makes the more she swallows your cock.

"Never heard you this quiet," Nakyoung quips and the slurp of spit echoes when she pulls those lips off. Her tongue swirls a little more as it descends, lavishing a long, heavy lick down to the base before making its way back to your glistening head.

"Because I'm just staring at your tits," you answer in earnest, and without an ounce of shame or remorse.

A glimpse of that smile appears on Nakyoung's wet lips for a brief moment, as her tongue traces along your cock, tip to hilt and back again. She sucks briefly on your swollen cockhead before engulfing it whole once again, every inch of it disappearing between those lips in one go, all that heat far too overwhelming.

"Jesus christ, that mouth of yours," you groan, breaking the silence with your head tilting back. Especially devastating when she gets her nose buried in your crotch, holding with those eyes staring up, just so you'll lose it even more. Her gag reflex is no more than an afterthought when her tongue runs up the underside of your shaft with every bob of her head, a constant flow leaking from the corners of her mouth.

"Gotta get you ready for my pussy," Nakyoung mutters with the tiniest pause before diving right back in. It's hardly a second before your cock disappears between her lips, filling her mouth over and over, slipping in as far as it can go. The occasional glance downward to distract, a brief view of her kneeling there in nothing but a skirt, topless, saliva running down her chin.

"God, that's good," you hiss out, the sensation of Nakyoung's hot tongue so intense along the underside. Every little slurp of spit that echoes, every bob of those pretty pink lips has your head spinning in the most blissful of ways. It's such a sight to behold, those piercings of hers jutting out even more the faster that she goes, that greedy mouth devouring more of your cock every single second.

"Can't fucking get enough of this cock," Nakyoung gasps between those sloppy, spit covered slurps, eyes gazing right into yours.

The pressure around your cock builds a little faster, every slurp, every ounce of wetness so prominent when Nakyoung starts stroking you and licking at your balls, drawing the pair into her mouth and rolling them around with her tongue. It all threatens that last ounce of composure you have left. Every flick and curl of her tongue, it brings that rush to you faster.

Another delicious glance, and that warm mouth simply sucks your balls while she squeezes, pumping up and down your spit covered shaft in her hand.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" she asks, so confident, like it's not even any sort of challenge. "Do you want to bust a huge load all over my tits?"

"N-Naky," you say through moans, enjoying the way your cock seems to disappear with no effort whatsoever when that familiar sensation hits and her lips engulf you once again. No stopping or hesitating. And just with a few more bobs of her head, a few more gentle squeezes of your balls, that question needs no answer.

She seems to sense it, or your desperate moans say it all, the way you groan and your fingers tense against the sheets. Nakyoung already knows exactly what's about to happen—in fact, she wants to encourage it with how hard those lips suck.

"F-fuck—I'm gonna—"

No chance for Nakyoung to pull off, taking you even deeper with that slick mouth. The vibrations of her moans are what make you reach a breaking point right then and there as she aims your cock cock directly at her chest, pumping frantically.

That smile is what ultimately does you in, almost as much as her tits.

Your moans turns desperate when you have no control left, releasing everything in your balls, hot cum shooting right onto those milky tits. One shot after another, a thick stream leaving a mess of white streaked across Nakyoung's beautiful, bare breasts. And it lands right where she intends—the delicious valley between, the tiny metal barbells right through her nipples, pumping it all out until there's a proper glistening, sticky sheen to the piercings,

"God, you really covered them," Nakyoung says, satisfaction across her features as she smears the results across her tits, keeping you rock hard even after you've emptied everything.

But for someone who looks so good naked, even better now, Nakyoung still reaches a new level when she dives right back in, immediately sucking your cock clean of any leftover cum with that tight seal around your shaft. And when she's done, it's only a matter of seconds before she's rubbing your tip over her chest, over those still hard and glistening nipples.

"Need you in me. Like right now," Nakyoung says in the most lust-ladened voice, sounding a little impatient as she keeps stroking your sensitive cock, kissing her way up. "Fuck me, pretty boy. I don't care where or how, just—"

If that's the case, you can't deny that and let your gaze drift up to those perky breasts once again, at Nakyoung half-naked and covered in cum. No regrets about painting those tits white, and no doubt that she doesn't want you to stop looking.

Nakyoung’s lips are still glossy when she pulls back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. You sit up, chest heaving, eyes locked on her chest as the silence lingers thick between you.

She’s about to speak when you stand, catching her waist in your grip, forcing her to turn around. Before she can steady herself, you’ve already steered her across the room, quick little steps that leave her taken aback—almost tripping when you back that perfect body up to the bedroom door. "W-what are you—"

"I'm fucking you, obviously," you reply as your hands are on her skirt in a flash, scrunching it up around her waist to reveal her voluptuous pale ass in thin lace. "Unless you've changed your mind…"

"There's still like thirty people outside," Nakyoung utters in disbelief, not sure how to react. "You can't be—"

And her whole demeanor changes, shifting the moment you smack that tight ass, hard, just enough to hear her little yelp of pleasure. "You wanted to suck me off in front of your friends—so, why not fuck you with all those people right behind that door?"

Her surprise melts when you spank her again, forcing a groan out and that sharp, delicious slap of palm meeting flesh. And it only drives home that smile forming, when she leans her weight forward a little more, so her chest is flush up against the door, skirt hiked all the way up.

"You're bad…" Nakyoung says with her cheek to the door and her voice turned just a little more seductive. "Did something come over you? You're not usually this—"

Another quick slap lands with the full force of your hand. "What, dominant?"

"Yeah, usually, I'm the one running the show. Where did that come from?"

"Dunno—I blame the piercings." Another spank. Then, one more, so it leaves a bright red mark on her ass, where the creamy flesh is the most sensitive, inching that tiny thong a little lower, until a quick tug slides them down to her ankles. "Kinda made me want to ruin you."

"Mm, do whatever you want then. Wreck me if it makes you happy," Nakyoung says, looking over her shoulder.

There's nothing left between you and how easily her legs spread, or how her pussy is practically drooling. "Hope your friend is still out there. Bet she'd love to hear what I'm about to do to you."

"Maybe if I moan loud enough," Nakyoung says, with her palms flat against the door, pressed up to the wood. And you’re right there, sliding into her from behind in one fluid motion, every inch filling her warm little cunt.

"God, you're fucking drenched," is all you can manage, too focused on the feeling of that wet, velvety heat squeezing so tightly around your cock. One slow withdrawal and then you drive yourself back inside, while Nakyoung moans not so quietly as you find her hips and get a solid grip, taking no time at all to pound into her, slamming hard.

"You're fucking me against a door, with people on the other side. And a party going on. Of course I'm wet," Nakyoung counters, palms planted against the wooden frame.

It doesn't take more than a few thrusts to have her warm, slippery cunt coat your length, all that sticky arousal that mixes with the leftover saliva, making the slide in even easier.

"Oh my god, you feel so good. I think I've missed this cock a little too much." Your hips start to really move and her moans are spilling freely now, unable to help but picture Nien standing on the other side, hearing the dull rattle of the door and pretending not to know what’s happening.

"Your pussy is unbelievable," you hiss, not holding back when your cock begins slamming into her with so little mercy. Inch after inch swallowed with ease, her pussy stretching and welcoming it with each rough pump. "God, I'm never going to get over how good your fucking pussy feels."

"Could say the same about your cock," Nakyoung adds, as your hips crash into her tight ass, making that flesh bounce when your skin collides. "Just keep pounding me into this door, fuck—"

Hard not to as you bury every inch into her, the clench impossible to escape. She's never been this loud or demanding with you, and it drives your cock deeper, wanting to feel more of that warm cunt taking everything, this door the literal only barrier between you and the rest of the party.

The noises come as loud as you expect, the door protesting against your every move as the wood rattles behind every pop of your hips. It's relentless—no letting up when Nakyoung gets tighter, even wetter somehow while your thick shaft impales her cunt, clinging onto her body that starts to glisten with sweat.

Nothing you can do but keep the feverish pace as you drive your dick into her repeatedly.

"Feels—s-so good, your cock is fucking splitting me open," Nakyoung moans in a frenzy of bliss, unable to help herself with how your cock pistons into that greedy little pussy. "You're fucking me so damn well. They can hear, right? They can definitely hear me getting destroyed."

You're pretty sure the entire neighborhood can hear at this point, yet you refuse to stop, relishing how every part of her cunt keeps gripping your cock, demanding it and never letting go.

And those pretty cries get even louder, that desperation layered into her voice when your hands leave her hips for a moment, fingers groping and playing with her tits from behind, pinching at those sensitive, pierced nipples. It's a sensation her entire body trembles at, causing her to claw at the door for some type of leverage, squeezing your cock just a little bit tighter. "G-god—just keep doing that. Fucking use me, play with my tits and use me please—"

You'll do just that, with ease.

Those pretty fucking tits are all yours to grab, play with, twist those stiff buds as much as you desire, all while continuing to rail her cunt as hard as your body allows. Each new thrust makes Nakyoung moans louder than ever, in tandem with the thud of the door that sounds like a distant echo at this point.

"Gonna fucking cum—so hard, all over your big, throbbing cock," she desperately groans out when your fingers start twisting a little harder, making sure her scrumptious tits get their due attention.

That's the last thing you hear before that messy climax hits with no more warning whatsoever. All of that slippery flesh clenches hard around your cock, tight enough to suffocate every inch, to coax the load you'd been staving off.

She's completely wrecked when she cums, panting hard, nearly collapsing against the wood, her juices leaking everywhere. "F-fuck—god, your cock is ridiculous, really. Can barely think straight when you're driving into me that fucking deep."

You have no plans to stop, not for a second when all you need is to reach your own finish, sliding your hands back down and to her hips to guide every thrust while the rest of Nakyoung is braced up against the door, her breasts pressed against the wood. It's too easy to picture the other side, with Nien outside, a dozen others trying to listen. Or maybe the music is too loud, and they're a little too drunk to even care.

"Use me," Nakyoung pleads, barely hanging on. "P-please, use me to cum, unload everything into my pussy, fill it—"

So easy to follow those words when she’s practically begging with her cheek to the door, an incoherent mess of slurred words and groans.

"That what you want? You brought me here so I can cum inside your tight little pussy?" you growl, feeling everything building impossibly quick now, no chance to stall your hips when that familiar tightness runs through your balls. "Gonna fucking fill you then. Make everything inside you all hot and messy—pump you full, like you deserve."

There are no more words, only the harshest sounds of flesh against flesh, Nakyoung's desperate moans, and her cunt that takes ahold of you in such a way there's no turning back. Just these loud thuds of her body pinned against the wood, the smack of your sweat-drenched hips crashing into her ass as you struggle to do anything but give in.

One last, deep stroke is all it takes, when your cockhead slams deep inside the silky depths of her cunt, where she squeezes so tight—it's impossible to fight it. The moment that pressure boils over, you're moaning out loud, buried to the hilt as your your balls release thick, hot spurts her cunt greedily swallows up, insatiable for more. A near delirious feeling, that feels better the more you empty inside Nakyoung.

No chance of fighting anything, just that sticky, hot load flowing into her cunt, a harsh grip on her hips that keeps her pinned up against the door. Every drop is hers to claim, overflowing before you can even finish pumping it into her, already trickling down her creamy thighs.

And Nakyoung just relishes the satisfaction, leaning her weight up against the door for balance, her body covered in a layer of sweat by this point.

"D-don't pull out yet, fuck, your cum feels so warm," she mumbles, disheveled hair stuck to her face, chest heaving while you finally start to slow, still sheathed in her cum-filled cunt. "Want it all inside, feels so good.”

Not that you would even consider leaving the heaven that is Nakyoung's pussy, the relief that floods over as your cock throbs inside, even after completely unloading. All you can manage is one deep, exhausted breath, resting your forehead on the back of her shoulder while that high lingers. You can feel every messy, sticky detail pressed against your body, her cunt still clinging tight.

"Feels so good, I swear, you've never fucked me like that before. My pussy is so full, god, I haven't been fucked like that since—"

"Tuesday?"

Nakyoung giggles and presses back against you, pushing that tight ass up into your hips like she's eager to draw out more of your messy load. "Shush. I was gonna say, last week, but Tuesday works too, I guess."

With one tired, chaste kiss to her shoulder, you let go of Nakyoung's hips, pulling out with a groan. But she remains against the door, as if still needing support, and you get the beautiful sight of the aftermath, her pretty pussy lips all slick, spread open and oozing with your milky white seed that has no place to go but those thighs, and the floor underneath.

All that’s left is to admire that delicious mess, committing every detail to memory, taking everything in. That smooth, pale back of hers. Her short, black hair, down around her shoulders, the sweat glistening across her skin. Her petite frame, bent slightly forward, her perfect ass, still a little red, and most of all—that pearly white dripping down both thighs, mixed with all her arousal, overflowing right in front of your eyes.

"You gonna keep staring, or help a girl clean up?" Nakyoung laughs and pulls you back to reality, reaching one hand behind you to give your still hard cock a teasing squeeze.

"Why would I help when the view is this good?"

"Then take a damn picture, you pervert," Nakyoung suggests while she kicks off her panties, leaving them discarded on the floor.

"It would be a crime if I didn't. Maybe send it to all your cute friends?"

Nakyoung shifts on her heels, taking a step away from the door when she tugs her skirt back in place. "Don't you dare. I know I'm a little reckless, but even that crosses a line. Gotta keep them thinking I'm still innocent."

"Since when? You? The girl who already told them how much we fuck?"

"Look, that was me being honest. Nothing wrong with being open between friends, right?"

"Right… or maybe you're still drunk."

Somehow, you both find a place to sit on the edge of the bed, too worn out to do little but kiss each other. Both your clothes still ditched on the floor.

"I must be, because we're still naked, and I think I wanna keep going."

Ridiculous. But not exactly impossible, either. "Jesus, Naky. Give a guy a moment."

Nakyoung, always in some sort of disbelief that someone could tire out so fast, lets out a sigh. "Fine. You lie down then. Guess we should get dressed at some point, before someone decides they need the room."

That's true, you're not actually sure how much longer this party will go on for. And you'd hate to have someone crash in on this little moment.

"In a bit," you murmur and lean back, just admiring the view. "Wanna stare at your tits a little longer."

A roll of her eyes as she straddles your lap, and leans forward, making sure they're nice and close to your face. "Pervert. Maybe you're more ready to go again than I thought."

You laugh. "Maybe. But not here. You said an hour, and I'm pretty sure it's been far more than that."

"Oops," she laughs, a hint of a smirk at the edge of her mouth. "Yeah, okay. Get dressed, and let me go first, yeah?"

"First you wanted to blow me in front of Nien and the rest of your friends—now you wanna keep this hidden?"

Nakyoung makes sure to give you another wet, sloppy kiss before sliding off your lap. "A girl has a reputation to uphold. Can't let it go around campus that I'm a wild, cock-hungry freak."

"Kind of late for that, isn't it?"

Her smile widens as she saunters around the room, picking your clothes up off the floor and shoves everything into your chest. "Alright, you got me. Meet me at the stairs whenever you're ready. Let's get out of here—this party is kind of lame."

That might be the understatement of the century, but the second she exits the room, you take a quick, quiet breather. When you escape out the door, nobody really cares at all, other than the pink haired Nien a few feet away, staring a little longer at the lovebites on your neck.

"Here I thought you were the rough one, but looks like Naky was the one who gets a little possessive," Nien teases as she follows alongside you, not even trying to hide her interest.

"What, these? These are old, from a few days ago," you say, turning a little red while your palm tries to hide the evidence.

"You are a terrible liar," Nien replies, unable to suppress her laugh, but doesn't press. Only a bit more ahead, to where Nakyoung waits for you both, hair a little messier, panties forgotten, your cum still leaking down those thighs.

Unsurprisingly, she still has that carefree expression, like she didn't just get railed in some stranger’s bedroom. "Thanks for playing lookout. Sorry if I got a little loud."

"Oh, did you? Couldn't hear a thing," Nien says, lying almost as bad as you.

Nakyoung grabs her leather jacket, leaning over to hug the girl before they split ways. "Well, I'd like to say this was a lovely party, but that would also make me a liar. I think we're out of here."

"See you in class then?"

"Perhaps. You know I don't like getting up before ten though."

Nien laughs, as the two depart ways, and you trail behind her to the exit, one step behind and never further away.

"Naky," you start, as soon as you wait by the curb, a taxi on it's way to get you, no clue how this night is going to continue.

"Yes, pretty boy?"

"No more parties. Your friends are nice, but—"

A quick kiss cuts off the rest of that thought. "Fine, fine. No more bribing you to parties filled with people you barely know. I promise. For now, we'll just spend time at your place instead. Order a pizza—beer, watch that new anime we both like while I ride your cock."

And another kiss, so hungry it steals your breath, not caring who else is nearby. "Yeah, that sounds much better."

"Thought so. Now, let's get home before I ride you right on the curb."

It's too hard to respond before a yellow car pulls up, the doors open and ready to take you back to your place.

---

Home again, with pizza on the way, Nakyoung occupies that space on your lap, episode three already going on in the background.

Not that your attention is anywhere but front and center when Nakyoung isn't wearing a thing. Her skirt is on the floor, jacket tossed nearby, tits out in the open, bouncing freely each time she sinks all the way down on your cock.

"Yeah, this is much better. Nobody around. Nobody having to watch out and ruin the fun. I'm sorry I even dragged you to that dumb party."

"I'll accept this as your apology," you say, just watching how Nakyoung gets so ravenous, bouncing her ass, those sweaty, glistening thighs slamming so hard against your own. "But the pizza is gonna be here any minute..."

Nakyoung seems far less enthused by the mere mention, pressing down hard on your chest as if she needs more leverage. "You're worried about pizza, when I'm riding the fuck out of your cock? Delivery guy can just leave it there. Or you can pick me up and fuck me while you answer the door. Whatever suits you best."

Impossible not to groan at that when her hips slam harder, riding you nothing shy of erratic to shut you up.

"What is with you and wanting other people to watch? First the party, now the delivery guy—"

"Hey, sometimes an audience makes it all the more fun," Nakyoung shoots back, still riding you hard without any mercy. "Your cock feels so fucking good, so please—shut the fuck up about the pizza."

Pretty easy to do that, when you have these delicious tits to bury your face between, sucking the nearest pierced nipple to make her sweet little moans ring out loud and clear. Pizza can wait, but Nakyoung riding until you cum in that warm little cunt?

That definitely can't.

---

Nakyoung is the first thing you see when you walk in and slam the door shut, tossing your bag across the kitchen in frustration. It's barely past one on a Tuesday afternoon, but already you feel inclined to open up that new bottle of tequila and down the entire thing.

"Tough day, handsome?"

"Fuck that professor, I swear," you say, trying hard to to quell your burning rage. "Exam didn't have a goddamn thing to do with what we've studied. Fucking asshole."

"Philosophy? Old guy in a turtleneck? Always speaking in weird proverbs?"

You slump down on the couch next to Nakyoung, unable to hide your anger. She's far too perceptive, of course, sliding over, resting her body against your chest.

"Yeah, that'd be the one. Always keeps us later and later. Fucking pretentious douchebag."

"I remember him. Dropped out halfway, couldn't take that guy anymore. Always loved to hear the sound of his own voice, that's for sure."

"Seriously," you agree, falling back with a defeated sigh.

Nakyoung, always with those big, caring eyes, runs her fingers through your hair to ease some of the tension, guiding your eyes toward her. "Let me help. Hate seeing you stressed. How can I make it better? Whatever you need, I'm all yours."

That's a far, far too generous offer when your mind wanders the way it tends to. "Just need some time to relax, that's it."

A slight nod and that sympathetic smile from Nakyoung is exactly what you need right about now.

"I'm right here if you need a distraction, you know I'm really good at being one. Anything. I'm happy to help. If you wanna play with my tits, jerk off into my mouth, or onto my pretty face—just name it."

Tempting, far too tempting, when Nakyoung looks up at you, offering herself up on a silver platter. But for now, you just need her. "Just stay right here. Like this. This is more than enough."

So she does, resting there on your chest with no desire in the world to be anywhere else.

---

Some of that stress finally lessens while Nakyoung stares up at you, upside down, her head dangling off the bed, with your cock lodged right down.

"Hope my throat is making you feel a little better," she says when you let her breathe, an absolute mess of drool down that messy, gorgeous face. "Nothing like a good throatfuck to calm the nerves. Keep that beautiful cock between my lips as long as you need to. I mean it."

Nakyoung sucks hard at your balls to really get her point across, as your throbbing cock rests on her face, the weight heavy between her fingers that stroke nice and slow.

"God, you're the best stress relief I could ever ask for, Naky," you groan out, sliding back deep between her wet lips as you bury the entire thing down her bulging throat, no gag, no hesitation, only pretty lips devouring every inch, saliva spilling out like crazy. Not much more left to do but enjoy it, her warm mouth open and willing, swallowing every inch as you squeeze and play with her milky tits, the second best stress relief you've got at your disposal.

She's exactly as good a distraction as promised, her cute face a wreck of spit and smeared mascara, more saliva ruining her makeup, those watery eyes never leaving you for a second.

There's still plenty more exams the next two weeks, no doubt. But as stress relief goes—this is the best option. When Nakyoung's so eager to relieve that stress like this, you're quick to find some relief, so you'll use whatever she's offering. Just watching the way her warm throat bulges out is every bit therapeutic. An incredible way to really get all this aggression out, knowing you get to shoot another load wherever you'd like the second you need to.

"I want your cum all over me, in me, anything," Nakyoung pleads when you give her just the barest moment to breathe, smacking that swollen cockhead right on those full, wet lips, her face absolutely coated in saliva.

That's the plan. In fact, you’re nearly there, with two handfuls of her tits for extra leverage, fingers pinching hard at her pierced, stiff nipples.

A little tug each time your cock drives down her hot throat, until it's time for you to pull out at the last possible second, blasting heavy streaks of cum all over her gorgeous, messy face. The best relief anyone can ask for—unloading all over her.

Nakyoung is nothing short of obscene like this, your thick, creamy mess on her face, dripping down her chin, mixing with ruined lipstick and all the spit. And yet she savors it all without question or complaints, that hungry tongue darting out to catch some, letting it drip and dribble everywhere it likes.

All the frustration from the day melts away when Nakyoung stays there like that, taking your spent cock into her cum-stained lips to clean up, draining every drop from those heavy balls.

"Feel any better, pretty boy?" Nakyoung asks, completely undeterred, beaming wide despite the way her face looks, an absolute mess.

"Yeah, a thousand times. F-fuck, that felt good. Thanks."

"No problem. My throat, my tits, my pussy, my tight little ass—all of it yours whenever you want," Nakyoung promises, right before she takes your sensitive, drained cock and plants a wet kiss right on the tip.

There's still plenty more stress on the way, no doubt. But when it feels this good to relieve it—you'll find an excuse to use whatever she offers in a heartbeat.

---

The next time you wake up, it's not in your sheets—or in your bed at all, but black silk wrapped around your body. It's the rare occasion of the morning starting in Nakyoung's apartment, this time underneath you instead of the other way around.

Not often do you get to watch her sleep like this, with her naked body sprawled out over the mattress. But it's nice, to see how innocent she looks in her sleep, to observe every inch of her all curled up.

"Morning, pretty boy," Nakyoung murmurs, sleep coating her voice while she stretches her arms up, lashes fluttering to slowly open her eyes. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Of course."

She smiles and leans in for a lazy, tender kiss, just a soft press of the lips, nuzzling against your cheek as she ruffles your hair.

"You're too cute. Next time, just wake me up if you can't wait."

Another kiss, one just as tender and sweet as the one before, and it doesn't end after that either, lips so eager to stay capturing yours. One leg wraps around your waist to drag you closer, allowing you to get a little bolder, trailing down her neck, inhaling her scent before continuing.

One kiss on the other side of her pale throat. Two down that collarbone, three on her shoulder. And so on, until your lips eventually linger just above her perfect tits. Nakyoung lets out this abrupt gasp the second your lips wrap around one sensitive nipple, dragging teeth over it, circling your tongue over the metal.

"H-hey, now, take it easy. I just woke up—"

"And? Can't help it," you breathe out between hungry slurps that get all the sensitivity going once more, get all those whines and moans back filling the room. "Just wanna taste every part of you."

More of her pleased sighs escape, fingers combing into your hair to guide your mouth as it moves from nipple to nipple, not neglecting either. All of Nakyoung's mewling moans fueling your mouth to feast in the early morning.

"I'm the one supposed to be waking you up with my mouth on your cock, but..." A trail of kisses down her cleavage before you're back to sucking and slurping at those sensitive, full breasts again, one after the other, worshipping them the way they deserve. "This works too. Keep sucking, feels too good for you to stop."

Nakyoung isn't too eager to let you go anywhere, nor letting the grip on your hair ease as your lips wrap all around each stiff, saliva-slicked nipple, taking your sweet time to indulge. No place else you'd rather be, tongue tracing the metal barbell and teasing around the curve of her breasts, tracing circles around her piercings.

"Can’t say I don’t love waking up like this. Your mouth on my tits, feeling your cock right here," Nakyoung groans, tilting her head up as you cup both her tits together, planting as many sloppy kisses as you can on those pillowy mounds.

And she really can't hold back the noises she makes with all that sucking, nibbling at her sensitive buds, getting them all covered in spit when you pull back to admire them in your hands, how good the fresh metal looks.

"I'm gonna be late to class if you keep this up," Nakyoung warns, but never tries to shove you away either, fingers never leaving your messy hair.

"Then tell me to stop, and I'll stop. I'll let you get out of bed and go to your boring classes." She does nothing of the sort as expected, relishing the way your mouth can't stop devouring her chest.

"Never, pretty boy. Keep playing with my tits, suck them, squeeze them, fill that perfect mouth up—do whatever the fuck you want."

Just as she smiles again, you oblige and sink right back between her tits, not sure you could ever grow tired of how soft they feel, the way she moans whenever your tongue makes contact.

You'd spend all day right here if the chance arose—sucking, slurping, licking all over that sensitive, supple flesh, digging fingers into them, sliding your cock between when your lust demands more. But for now, she deserves a moment of spoiling, a chance to melt into the feeling of your lips wrapped all around her nipples.

Spoiling her means everything, hearing her whimper and groan when your lips seal around the closest nipple to you, mouthful after mouthful, playing with her other bud with your fingers. The sort of stimulation that leaves her squirming against her sheets, eyes falling closed when her back arches, writhing in ecstasy.

"Oh god, your mouth just feels too damn good—"

An endless flow of moans as Nakyoung struggles to stay coherent, and you keep her overwhelmed, too preoccupied with sucking, drool spilling all down her nipples, indulgent little bites along the hardened pink nubs.

"Okay, I really need to get out of bed, s-seriously," she finally protests when you get a little too sloppy with the slurps, her hands firmly tangled in your hair now. "I have a test, and as much as I'd love to let you suck my tits for hours, I don't have time."

"Too bad," you respond between sucks, rolling a nipple between your teeth, all covered in warm drool as her whole body shifts on the mattress.

"Fuck, hey, come on—okay, enough, I'm serious. I'm gonna be late—" Nakyoung urges, giggling so helplessly, unable to free you from her chest.

But you refuse to relent, every slurp a little louder than the one before. You don't stop, tongue flicking, lips sucking, teeth nibbling at those sensitive pierced nipples, not giving her a break until you deem necessary.

"Fuck, oh fuck—" Her breathing gets all unstable when you're the most aggressive you've been. Lips latched tightly, you give all you can give, spilling drool all down the smooth, creamy flesh, the sweetest of moans filling the air. "Fuck, p-please, I think I'm gonna cum just from this—"

And like that, when you show no modicum of mercy, unleashing all your desire and built-up hunger, Nakyoung can't help but arch her back high, eyes rolling back, entire body convulsing hard as an orgasm comes ripping through her. Her thighs grind together, desperate to seek even more friction, unable to fight back against your unrelenting mouth. It's an incredibly satisfying thing to watch her lose it, body shaking through each intense moment, lips parted and those pretty features twisting in bliss while she scrambles to grab two fistfuls of sheets.

Even after it's done, the sensitivity doesn't end there. You don't dare let up, not a moment to process that pleasure coursing through her body, not a moment to recover or let the stimulation cease. Not with you slobbering on her sensitive tits, still relentlessly sucking one nipple or the other, never letting either leave your lips.

"Y-you can't keep this up, you fucking bastard. I already came, just from you sucking my tits," Nakyoung tries, her voice so strained while she tries to squirm away, barely able to catch her breath through all this. "You're insane. These fucking piercings, look what they've done to you—"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"I-I'm not surprised at all. Impressed even. Maybe a little proud you're such an insatiable little fuck. Shit—guess this is partly my fault."

"Partly?" you scoff, not keeping your mouth off her for any longer than necessary. "Got you off and it's not even nine. I'd call it entirely your fault"

"S-shit, it's past eight? Fuck—" Her attempts to shove you off grow more futile as you refuse to let her escape from the comfort of her bed. "Still need to shower. These goddamn things turned you into an uncontrollable little pervert."

"Are you complaining?"

Nakyoung finally pushes you off with a laugh, rolling onto her stomach so she can sit up, a mess of drool all around her tits. "Wouldn't dream of it. You're too fucking adorable for me to complain. Now if you don't mind, I have a test. So I really do need to shower."

And with that, Nakyoung climbs off the mattress, trying to catch her breath a little more. Steadying herself, her ass stays perfectly visible while she composes herself a bit after the morning wake-up you've just given her.

"Turns out, so do I. Mind if I join?"

She takes one long look before grabbing your hand and giving her answer. "Of course not, pretty boy. Come on in. But no funny business, this shower is supposed to be about getting clean, okay? I'm already late enough."

"if you're late, then that's all the more reason to have a little fun…" you start, following Nakyoung as she drags you down the hall where the bathroom is, unable to keep your eyes off the sway of her hips the entire walk there.

"You really don't know what 'quick' means, do you? Fine, a little fun. But only because you're cute and I'm so fucking horny for you."

"I assure you the feeling is mutual."

"Come on," is all Nakyoung offers up with a shy little smile, the two of you ready to spend the next little while under the hot, steamy water.

And while Nakyoung is insistent on how there's no time, she'll be the first to start things when you both step past the glass doors of the shower. The first to grab the shower gel and pretend it's for anything other than how her tits feel lathered in bubbles, for you to slide right between them.

The doorbell chimes, and there she is, bursting through the frame like she owns the place, her voice spilling out before the door’s even shut. “Oh my god, you won’t believe what Chaeryeong said to me today—she’s so extra, I can’t,” she’s rattling on, tossing her bag onto your couch like it’s her second home. You catch a good look at her, and fuck, she’s dialed it up tonight. She’s wearing this black satin slip dress, short enough that it’s riding the line between bold and reckless, the hem cutting off mid-thigh to show off those legs that could kill a man. The fabric’s got this subtle shimmer, clinging to her slim waist and flaring out over her hips—those wide, perfect hips that you’ve memorized by now. A cropped leather jacket’s slung over her shoulders, unzipped, giving it that effortless cool-girl edge, and underneath, the dress dips low, a little lace trim peeking out where it teases her chest. Her hair’s loose, dark waves spilling down her back, and she’s got these chunky silver hoops glinting when she moves. It’s sexy as hell, provocative without trying too hard, but chic enough that she could pull it off anywhere. She’s a walking Instagram post, and she knows it.

She spins around mid-sentence, all that energy zeroing in on you, and before you can blink, she’s bounding over, arms outstretched like she’s about to pull you into her orbit. Her lips are glossy, puckered for that kiss she always lands on you the second she walks in—half playful, half claiming. But tonight, you don’t budge. You just stand there, hands shoved in your pockets, jaw tight, letting her momentum crash into your stillness. Her lips hover an inch from yours, and you see the flicker of confusion in her eyes when you don’t lean in. She pulls back a little, tilting her head like a puppy who’s been denied a treat. “What’s up with you?” she says, half-laughing. You take a breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been swallowing for weeks piling up in your chest. “Yuna, we need to talk,” you say, voice low but steady, and her whole vibe shifts—she steps back, crossing her arms under that damn dress, her jacket sliding off one shoulder, and she’s staring at you now, lips parted, waiting for the bomb you’re about to drop.

“Maybe we should just stop seeing each other,” you say, letting the words drop like a brick on the hardwood floor. She freezes, her arms still crossed, that leather jacket slipping further down her shoulder. “What?” she says, voice spiking with disbelief. You shift your weight, rubbing the back of your neck, and say it again, slower this time, “I think we should stop this, Yuna. Whatever this is.” Her brows knit together, and she steps closer, heels clicking on the floor—she’s still got those strappy sandals with heels on, the ones that tie up her calves like she’s some goddess descending from Olympus. “Why the hell would you say that?” she asks, and her tone’s sharp now, like she’s daring you to keep going.

So you do. You let it all spill out, raw and messy, like you’ve been holding it in too long and the dam’s finally busted. “Because I’m sick of feeling like shit, okay? At college, you act like I don’t exist—like I’m some random dude you barely know. I’m busting my ass with these classes, trying to keep up, and then there’s you, waltzing around with your crew, pretending I’m not even on your radar. But here? In my apartment? It’s all good, right? You’re all over me, and I’m supposed to just be cool with that split? Nah, it’s fucking with me.” She blinks, lips parting like she’s about to interrupt, but you push on. “I’m starting to feel like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me—like I’m some loser you’d never admit to touching. It’s like I’m just your little plaything you pull out when you’re bored or horny, and I’m done with it.” Your chest’s heaving by the end, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck, but it’s out now, no taking it back.

Yuna’s staring at you, and for a second, you think she might actually get it. But then she rolls her eyes, tossing her hair back with a little huff. “Oh my god, chill out. This is just a casual thing—we’re not dating, you know that. Why are you catching feelings over something that’s not even serious?” She uncrosses her arms, gesturing with her hands like she’s trying to wave your words away. “I’m not embarrassed of you. I just don’t see why it’s a big deal.” You laugh, but it’s bitter, hollow. “Not a big deal? Yuna, it’s not simple for me. I can’t just switch it off like you do. And yeah, maybe you’re not embarrassed, but it sure as hell feels that way when you won’t even look at me in public. Like that time I came up to you when you were with your friends—middle of the quad, broad daylight—and I asked about the project? You brushed me off, said, ‘Text me about it,’ and walked off without a second glance. Didn’t even introduce me, didn’t even pretend I was worth a damn to you. I felt like a fucking idiot.”

Her face shifts—she remembers that day, you can tell by the way her lips twitch, but she doubles down anyway. “I’ve always treated you fine! I come over, we hang out, we have fun. I don’t get why you’re making this a thing.” She’s pacing now, sandals clicking again, her dress swishing with every step. You shake your head, leaning against the counter to steady yourself. “If it’s not a thing, then why can’t you talk to me out there? Why’s it always gotta be this secret shit? I’m telling you, it’s better if we end it here. You can find some other guy to mess around with—someone who’s cool with being your shadow.” That flips a switch in her. Her eyes narrow, and she stops pacing, planting herself right in front of you. “Oh, please,” she snaps. “You’re the one who’s pissed because I won’t parade you around like some trophy. What, you think I’m using you? Maybe you’re the one chasing me, trying to ride my coattails because I’m popular and you’re—what—just some nerd who got lucky?”

You can’t help it—you laugh again, loud and sharp, cutting through her bullshit. “That’s rich, Yuna. Yeah, I’m totally the one taking advantage here. I’m the one sneaking over to your place, right? Oh wait, no, that’s you.” She glares, cheeks flushing pink, and you can tell she’s not used to this—being called out, being rejected. She steps closer, voice dropping low. “You’re ruining my night, you know that? I was so pumped to come over, kick back, watch that stupid horror movie you’ve been on about. I even brought snacks—those sour gummy worms you like.” She points at her bag on the couch, like that’s supposed to fix everything. You smirk, leaning in a little. “Yeah, and you were also pumped to fuck me, right? That’s the routine—movie, snacks, then you’re climbing on top of me like clockwork.” Her jaw drops, and she looks genuinely offended, hand flying to her chest. “Wow, rude much? It’s not like you’re complaining in the moment—you’re just as into it as I am!”

And that’s the kicker. The way she moves, the way she tastes, the little gasps she lets out when you’ve got her pinned under you—it’s like a hit of something strong, something you can’t shake. “Yeah, I am,” you admit, voice quieter now, “and that’s the problem. It’s too good, Yuna. You’re too good. It’s like a drug, and I’m hooked, and that’s why I’ve gotta cut it off before I’m in too deep.” She stares at you, lips parted, and for once, she doesn’t have a comeback ready.

The silence stretches out for a beat too long, and then Yuna’s voice cuts through it, soft and low. “Okay, fine… if that’s how you feel, then this’ll be the last time.” She’s looking at you with those big, dark eyes, and there’s something in them—maybe a flicker of hurt, maybe just stubbornness—but it’s enough to make your stomach twist. You shake your head, leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edge. “Nah, Yuna, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re trying to end this, not drag it out.” She steps closer, her sandals clicking softly, and her voice firms up, sharper now, like she’s made up her mind. “No, listen—I’m here, right? I didn’t haul ass across town for nothing. Let’s make it the last fuck, then. One more, just to say goodbye proper.” She’s right in front of you now, close enough that you can smell her perfume—and it’s hitting you hard, stirring up that familiar ache.

She reaches out, her fingers brushing your chest through your shirt, light but deliberate, and it’s like a jolt straight to your core. You clench your jaw, trying to hold your ground, keeping your hands locked on the counter so you don’t give in and grab her. “Come on,” she murmurs, leaning in, her lips hovering near your ear, breath warm against your skin. “Please, I know you want it too. Don’t make me beg.” Her hand slides lower, grazing your stomach, and your resolve’s crumbling fast. You sigh, loud and ragged, and before you can stop yourself, your hands are on her hips, pulling her closer. “Fuck it,” you mutter, voice rough, “this is the last time, Yuna. The farewell fuck, that’s it.” She’s already nodding, her lips crashing into yours, hungry and messy, and between kisses she’s gasping, “Yeah, last time, promise.” You’re tugging that leather jacket off her shoulders, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud, and she’s pressing herself against you, all heat and curves.

You stumble toward the couch, half-guiding, half-dragging her, and she’s giggling—low and breathy. You collapse onto the cushions, pulling her down with you, and she lands on your lap, straddling you for a split second before you roll her under you. Your mouth’s on her neck, kissing and nipping at that soft spot just below her jaw, and she lets out this little sigh—half moan, half surrender—that sends a shiver down your spine. Your hands slide up her sides, finding her small, perky tits through that satin dress, squeezing just enough to make her arch into you. “Goddamn, you’re too much,” you mutter against her skin, and she laughs, tugging at your shirt. You pause, sitting up to yank it over your head, and her eyes rake over you—chest, abs, the whole deal. “You’re so fucking hot,” she says, grinning, reaching out to run her nails lightly down your stomach. It’s cheesy as hell, but it still gets you—except tonight, you’re not in the mood for her commentary.

“Shut up,” you say, diving back in to kiss her hard, swallowing whatever smartass reply she’s got lined up. Your tongue’s in her mouth, and she’s melting under you, but then she pulls back just enough to whisper, “Gonna be tough—I can’t keep quiet when you’re fucking me. You know you love it when I get loud.” She’s right, and that’s the problem—her voice, those little gasps and whines, they’ve got hooks in you, and tonight you need this to be clean, primal, no strings. “Then I’ll keep your mouth busy,” you shoot back, smirking, and you shift off her, sitting up. “Get on your knees.” She doesn’t hesitate, sliding off the couch with this wicked little gleam in her eyes. Before she drops, she reaches down, shimmying that black satin dress up over her head in one smooth motion—leaving her in just a lacy black thong and those sandals still strapped around her ankles. The sight of her—tan skin, curves bare and glowing in the low light—almost knocks the air out of you.

You’re on your feet now, kicking off your jeans and boxers in a rush, and your cock springs free, already hard as hell, aching from just the thought of her. She’s kneeling in front of you, looking up with that mix of defiance and want that’s pure Yuna, her hair spilling over her shoulders, framing her face. “Last time, huh?” she says, voice teasing, but there’s a tremble in it—like she’s feeling the weight of it too. You don’t answer, just step closer, and she reaches for you, her fingers brushing your length before you tangle a hand in her hair, guiding her where you want her. The room’s quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the sound of your breathing, and you know this is it—the final hit of her before you try to quit cold turkey.

You’re standing there, one hand still tangled in her dark hair, the other gripping the back of the couch for balance, and you look down at her—kneeling, bare except for that skimpy thong and bra—and you can’t help but feel the weight of this moment. “Memorize it good, Yuna,” you say, voice rough, edged with something raw. “This is the last time you’re getting anywhere near my cock, so make it count, 'cause you're gonna miss it.” Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and there’s this spark in them—part challenge, part hunger—and fuck, it’s like pouring gas on a fire. She doesn’t say anything right away, just leans in closer, and you feel her breath hot against your skin as she drags her nose along the length of you, inhaling deep like she’s savoring it. Then her tongue darts out, slow and deliberate, tracing from the base all the way up to the tip, leaving a wet streak that’s got your knees twitching. She’s kissing it now—soft, teasing little pecks along the shaft, down to your balls, where she lingers, sucking gently, and it’s so damn good you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from groaning too loud. The way she’s working you, it’s like she’s putting on a show just for you, and it’s flipping every switch in your brain.

She pulls back for a second, lips shiny, and smirks up at you. “Goddamn, I’m gonna miss this cock so much,” she says, her voice all husky and low, like she’s confessing some deep, dirty secret. “It’s my favorite, you know? Perfect size, perfect everything. Gonna be a crime not having it anymore.” She’s laying it on thick, and you’re caught between rolling your eyes and getting lost in it because, shit, she knows exactly how to play you. Her hands are on you now, one wrapped around the base, stroking slow while her tongue flicks over the tip, and you can’t tell if she’s for real or just fucking with you to keep you hooked. Either way, it’s working—your dick’s throbbing, and every little move she makes is winding you up tighter. Then she takes you into her mouth, full-on, lips sliding down until you’re hitting the back of her throat, and it’s so wet and warm and tight that your head tips back, a low curse slipping out before you can stop it. There’s nothing in the world like watching her suck you off—those pink lips stretched around you, her cheeks hollowing out, the little slurping sounds she makes like she’s starving for it.

She’s bobbing her head now, steady and deep, but then she pulls off just enough to talk, her hand still pumping you, keeping the rhythm. “You know,” she says, voice muffled around you, “I was so fucking jealous when Yeji dropped that bomb about hooking up with you. Just casual, like, ‘Oh yeah, that guy you doing the project with? We fucked at that party.’ Like it was nothing.” She’s licking you again, long, slow stripes, and her eyes don’t leave yours, like she’s daring you to react. “And then she started going on about your dick—how big it was, how she couldn’t believe I hadn’t jumped you yet. I was standing there, fuming, thinking, ‘No way this bitch gets to have him and I don’t.’ So I made my move—stole you right out from under her nose before she could even think about round two.” She laughs a little, soft and smug, then sinks back down, taking you deep again, and you feel her throat flex around you. “Yeji was cool about it, though—she’s a real one. Said she wasn’t gonna fight me over some guy. Lucky for me, huh?”

You’re barely processing her words, caught up in the heat of her mouth and the way she’s working you like she’s trying to etch herself into your memory. But it’s too much—her voice, her story, the way it’s all tangled up with how you feel. “Shut up, Yuna,” you growl, tightening your grip in her hair, pushing her back down. “Just keep sucking.” She hums around you, obedient for once, and dives back in, harder this time, her tongue swirling over the tip every time she pulls up, her hand twisting in this perfect rhythm that’s got your head spinning. You can see her thighs pressed together, like she’s getting off on this as much as you are, and it’s driving you wild—the idea that she’s this into it, that she’s claiming you in her own fucked-up way. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s making these soft, needy noises that hit you right in the gut. You’re not sure what’s true anymore—whether she’s really gonna miss you or if she’s just spinning a line—but right now, with her on her knees, worshipping your cock like it’s the last time, you don’t give a shit.

Yuna’s relentless, her mouth working you like she’s got something to prove, and she’s not letting up with the dirty talk either. She pulls off for a second, just enough to catch her breath, and she’s grinning up at you, spit glistening on her lips, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip of your cock. “You like this, don’t you?” she purrs, voice all sultry and rough. “Me down here, choking on you, making a fucking mess of myself.” It’s obscene, how perfect she is, all that polished campus-queen vibe turned into something cheap and nasty just for you. “Look at you,” you say, voice low and biting, “you look like a fucking slut right now.” It’s harsh, but it’s true, and you mean every word.

Her eyes light up at that, like you’ve just paid her a compliment, and she lets out this wicked little laugh. “Then I’m your slut,” she shoots back, leaning in to kiss the underside of your cock, slow and sloppy, leaving a trail of spit that drips down to her chest. “Yours to fuck however you want.” She’s baiting you, and she knows it—knows how her words twist you up, how they make you want to give in and let her have it all. But she’s pushing too far, talking too much, and you’re not about to let her take control of this. You need her quiet, need to shut that pretty mouth up before she worms her way deeper into your head. So you grab a fistful of her hair—those silky waves bunching up in your hand—and yank her forward, hard. “Enough talking,” you growl, and then you’re shoving your cock back into her mouth, past those glossy lips, all the way until you feel her throat clench around you.

She gags a little at first, eyes watering, but she doesn’t pull back—fuck no, she leans into it, like she’s been waiting for you to snap. You start thrusting, rough and fast, holding her head steady so she’s got no choice but to take it. Her hands fly up to your thighs, nails digging in, and the sounds she’s making—wet, choked little moans vibrating around you—are pure sin. You’re moaning too, can’t help it, because her mouth’s a fucking dream—hot and tight, that tongue still trying to swirl around you even as you’re pounding into her. “Yeah, that’s it,” you mutter, voice ragged, “take it like you love it.” And she does—she’s a mess now, mascara streaking down her cheeks, lips swollen and red, spit slicking her chin, and it’s so goddamn satisfying to see her like this. That perfect, pampered face—always so untouchable at college, always too good for the likes of you—getting ruined, all because she can’t get enough of your cock.

Her bra’s slipping, one strap falling off her shoulder, and her tits are bouncing just enough to drive you crazy as you keep up the pace. She’s trying to say something, muffled words garbled around you, but you don’t let up—don’t want to hear it, don’t need her sweet-talking her way out of this. “Fuck your face feels good,” you groan, tightening your grip in her hair, and she whimpers, eyes fluttering shut like she’s lost in it. You can feel the heat building, that tight coil in your gut winding up fast, but you’re not ready to blow yet—not until you’ve pushed her as far as she can go. She’s drooling now, a steady stream of spit spilling down onto the floor, and the sight of her like that—kneeling, wrecked, totally at your mercy—has your head spinning. “Look at you,” you pant, slowing just enough to let her catch a ragged breath, “fucking gorgeous and filthy all at once. Bet your fancy friends wouldn’t believe it, huh?” She tries to nod, or maybe it’s a gag, but you’re already moving again, slamming back into her throat, the rhythm of your hips relentless as you fuck Yuna’s face, no holding back, no mercy—just raw, animal need driving every thrust.

Her mouth’s a perfect mess around you, wet and tight, and she’s choking on your cock, little gags and sputters escaping every time you push in deep. Those big, dark eyes lock onto yours, watering like crazy, tears pooling at the corners and streaking down her cheeks, but she’s not backing off—she’s taking it, every brutal inch, like she’s daring you to keep going. Her mascara’s a disaster, black smudges framing her gaze, and her lips are swollen, stretched wide around you, spit dripping down her chin in sloppy strings. “Fuck, you’re such a slut,” you grunt, voice rough and low, and it just spills out—you can’t stop it, not when she’s looking up at you like that, wrecked and willing. She moans around you, a muffled little hum that vibrates through your cock, and it’s like she’s agreeing, reveling in the name.

Your hand tightens in her hair, fingers twisting into those dark waves, and you pull hard, angling her just right so you can slam even deeper. Her throat’s convulsing around you, squeezing every time you hit the back, and the sound—wet, messy, obscene—fills the room, mixing with your own ragged breathing. “Yeah, choke on it,” you mutter, half to yourself, half to her, and she does, her eyes fluttering shut for a second as she gags hard, but then they snap back open, fixed on you again, like she’s begging you to see her take it. You’re moaning louder now, can’t help it—low, guttural sounds ripping out of you because her mouth’s so fucking perfect, so hot and sloppy, and the sight of her like this—kneeling, ruined, all that campus-princess polish stripped away—is pushing you right to the edge. “Love this, don’t you?” you pant, thrusting harder, feeling the pleasure coil tight in your gut. “Love me fucking your pretty little face.” She can’t answer, not with you buried in her throat, but her hands grip your thighs, nails biting into your skin, and that’s enough.

You go deeper, as deep as you can, your cock lodged so far down her throat you’re sure she can barely breathe. Her whole body jerks with each thrust, tits bouncing in that flimsy bra, heels digging into the floor like she’s bracing herself. You’re close—fuck, you’re so close—and you can feel it building, that hot, electric rush surging up your spine. “Gonna cum,” you groan, voice breaking, and she makes this desperate little noise, eyes pleading even as they water more. You thrust once, twice, then hold her there—head yanked back by her hair, your cock shoved all the way in—and you let go. You cum hard, pulsing deep in her throat, thick and hot, and she’s choking, coughing around you, but she doesn’t pull away. She swallows it all, every drop, like the good little slut she said she’d be, her throat working against you as you empty yourself into her. It’s intense, almost too much, and your legs are shaking as you ride it out, keeping her there, softening in her mouth while she struggles to keep up.

Without even thinking, your hand loosens in her hair, and you start stroking it—gentle, absentminded, like some weird reflex kicking in while you’re still coming down. She’s trembling, chest heaving, and you finally pull out, slow and deliberate, your cock slipping free with a wet pop. Yuna gasps, gulping air like she’s been underwater, panting hard as she slumps back on her heels. Her face is a total fucking wreck—mascara streaked down to her jaw, lipstick smeared, spit and cum glistening on her chin—and it’s gorgeous in the most fucked-up way. You grab a handful of tissues from the coffee table, crouching down in front of her, and start wiping her face, soft and careful, tracing over the mess you made. “You okay?” you ask, quieter now, a little worried you went too far. She looks up at you, still catching her breath, and then she smiles—weak at first, then breaking into this raspy little laugh. “I’m fine,” she says, voice hoarse, “just… gimme a sec to breathe, yeah?”

You nod, standing up and dropping onto the couch, your own chest still heaving as you try to recover. She crawls over after a minute, still in that bra and thong, heels clicking faintly as she moves, and plops down next to you, snuggling in close. Her skin’s warm against yours, her head tucking into your shoulder, and it’s weird—soft and intimate after all that roughness. “Can I crash here tonight?” she asks, voice small, almost shy. You hesitate, rubbing a hand over your face. “I dunno, Yuna. Not sure that’s smart.” She shifts, propping herself up to look at you, her hair falling messy over one eye. “Come on, it’s the last time, right? One night won’t kill us. Be nice to just… chill, y’know? After all this.” She’s got a point, and you’re too wiped to argue hard. You sigh, slumping back into the cushions. “Fine, yeah, okay. Just tonight.” She grins, snuggling back in, her body curling against yours like she’s already settled, and you’re left staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about everything that's happening right now.

Her body shifts, warm and soft against yours, and before you can fully register it, her lips are on you—slow, lazy kisses trailing across your chest, her breath hot against your skin. Her hand slides down your stomach, fingers brushing over your softening cock, and she gives it a gentle squeeze, coaxing it back to life. “Gonna miss this so fucking much,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky, lips hovering near your collarbone as she strokes you slow and steady. You feel that familiar twitch, the heat creeping back in, and you can’t help but let out a quiet, “Yeah, me too,” your voice rougher than you mean it to be. It’s true—she’s got you hooked, and even if this is supposed to be the end, the thought of not having her like this again stings more than you’d admit.

She pauses, her hand still wrapped around you, and looks up, those dark eyes narrowing just a bit. “This isn’t about Yeji, is it?” she asks, and there’s an edge to her tone—like she’s fishing for something, testing you. You shake your head, meeting her gaze dead-on. “Nah, Yuna. It’s just you. All this shit—it’s about you, not her.” She doesn’t say anything for a second, and you can’t tell if she’s pissed or pleased—maybe both. Her lips part like she’s about to snap back, but instead, she crashes her mouth into yours, hard and needy, kissing you like she’s trying to prove a point. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and desperate, and your hands are on her before you can think, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. It’s one of those flimsy lace things, and you get it undone in a snap, letting it fall to the floor as her tits spill free—small, perfect, begging to be touched. She’s stroking you faster now, and your cock’s fully hard again, pulsing in her grip, ready for round two.

You pull back from the kiss, both of you breathing heavy, and she’s got this wild little smirk, like she knows she’s got you right where she wants you. “Fuck the couch,” you mutter, grabbing her by the hips and hauling her up with you. She lets out a surprised little yelp, but it turns into a laugh as you spin her around, pushing her toward the wall by the kitchen. Her hands brace against it, palms flat, and she arches her back, sticking her ass out like an invitation. You’re right behind her, pressing up against her, your cock nudging her thong to the side—no time to take it off, no patience for it. “Goddamn, you’re unreal,” you say, voice low in her ear as you line yourself up, feeling how wet she is already, slick and hot against you. She shivers, tossing a look over her shoulder. “Just fuck me already,” she says, half-pleading, half-demanding, and you don’t need to be told twice.

You slide in, slow at first, just the tip, teasing her until she’s pushing back against you, desperate for more. Then you thrust hard, burying yourself deep, and she gasps—loud, sharp, echoing off the walls. “Fuck, yes,” she moans, her voice breaking as you start moving, pounding into her from behind. Her hips rock back to meet you, matching your rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, raw and filthy. You’ve got one hand on her waist, the other gripping her shoulder, pulling her into every thrust, and she’s taking it all, her body trembling but holding steady. “Miss this too much,” she pants, her words choppy between gasps, “your cock—fuck, it’s so good.” You smirk, leaning in to nip at her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “Told you I’d miss it,” you say, driving deeper, feeling her tighten around you, hot and perfect. “But this is it, Yuna—last fucking time.”

She doesn’t answer, just moans louder, her nails scraping the wall as you fuck her harder, the pace brutal now, chasing that edge again. Her thong’s bunched to the side, cutting into her skin, and those heels make her legs look endless, trembling every time you slam into her. You reach around, sliding a hand down her stomach, fingers brushing her clit, and she jolts like you’ve shocked her, a high-pitched whine spilling out. “Shit, right there,” she gasps, head tipping back against your shoulder, and you keep it up, rubbing tight circles while you pound her, her whole body shaking. “You’re such a dick,” she mutters, but it’s breathy, almost a laugh, like she’s loving every second of this. “Yeah, but you love it,” you shoot back, voice strained, feeling the pressure build again, your cock throbbing inside her.

You’re deep in it now, hips slamming into Yuna’s tight little pussy with a rhythm that’s borderline feral, every thrust rocking her against the wall like you’re trying to leave a permanent mark. She’s so fucking wet—dripping, slick, the sound of it loud and obscene every time you drive in, her thong still shoved to the side and soaked through. You can feel her squeezing around you, hot and greedy, pulling you in like she can’t get enough, and it’s got your head spinning, every nerve lit up. She’s moaning your name now, over and over, her voice all high and desperate—“Fuck, yes, harder, please”—and it’s like gasoline on the fire, making you want to wreck her even more. Her heels scrape the floor as she tries to brace herself, legs trembling, but you’re not giving her an inch to recover. This is too good, too raw, and you’re not stopping until she’s completely undone.

You shift your grip, grabbing both her arms and yanking them back, pinning them behind her with one hand. It’s rough, controlling, and she fucking loves it—you can tell by the way her back arches even more, her ass pushing out to meet you, giving you full access to pound her harder. “Oh my god, yes,” she gasps, her head tipping back, hair sticking to her sweaty neck, and you’ve got her totally at your mercy now, her body bending to your will. Her tits bounce free with every slam, small and perky, and the sight of her like this—helpless, pinned, taking it like a champ—sends a jolt straight through you. “You like that, huh?” you growl, leaning in close, your breath hot against her ear. “Me holding you down, fucking you senseless?” She nods, frantic, her breath hitching. “Fuck yeah, I love it—don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop.”

You tighten your hold on her arms, pulling her back harder so her spine curves just right, and you can hit that spot that makes her go wild. “Look at you,” you say, voice dripping with heat, “taking my cock like a good little slut—fucking perfect.” She whimpers at that, a shaky little sound that’s half pleasure, half surrender, and you can feel her pussy clench tighter, like she’s trying to milk you dry. The wall’s creaking under the pressure, her hands flexing where you’ve got them trapped, nails digging into her own palms. “Shit, you’re so deep,” she pants, her voice breaking, “ruining me—fucking ruining me.” And you grin, wicked and sharp, because that’s exactly what you want—to leave her a mess, to make sure she feels this long after you’re done.

Your free hand slides up her side, rough and possessive, gripping her waist, then her tit, squeezing hard enough to make her hiss. “This tight pussy’s all mine right now,” you mutter, slamming in again, watching her shake with it. “Nobody else gets you like this—nobody.” She moans louder, a slutty little “uh-huh” slipping out, and you can tell she’s losing it, her whole body trembling, thighs quivering like they might give out. You let go of her arms for a second—just long enough to grab her hips with both hands, spinning her around so her back’s flat against the wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around you. She’s panting, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and shiny with spit, and you dive back in, thrusting deep, her arms looping around your neck to hold on. “Fuck me up,” she whispers, right in your ear, hot and needy, “make me feel it tomorrow.”

You’re pounding her so hard the wall’s rattling, her heels digging into your back, urging you on, and she’s clawing at your shoulders now, nails leaving red streaks that sting just enough to keep you sharp. “You’re so fucking hot like this,” you say, voice rough and strained, “all desperate and slutty—can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” She shakes her head, frantic, her breath catching every time you bottom out. “No, fuck, I can’t—feels too good, gonna—shit, gonna lose it.” Her pussy’s gripping you like a vise, tight and wet and perfect, and you can feel the pressure building again, that hot, heavy pull in your gut. But you’re not there yet—not ready to let go—so you slow it down just a notch, grinding into her deep and deliberate, making her feel every inch. “Take it slow, baby,” you tease, smirking against her neck as you nip at her skin, “let me fuck you proper—gonna savor this tight little cunt while I’ve still got it.”

She’s whimpering now, clinging to you, her hips rolling to meet every thrust, and the way she’s pressed against you—sweaty, shaking, totally fucked out—is driving you wild. “You’re such an asshole,” she gasps, but there’s a grin in her voice, like she loves you for it. “Yeah, but you’re still begging for it,” you shoot back, picking up the pace again, slamming her into the wall so hard her breath stutters. “Fuck, Yuna, you’re killing me—gonna miss this pussy so bad.” And she just nods, too gone to argue, her moans turning into these broken little cries that hit you right in the chest, pushing you closer to the edge but still holding off, determined to drag this out as long as you can.

You’ve got Yuna pinned against the wall, her body trembling under you, legs hooked tight around your waist as you keep hammering into her. Her pussy’s so tight it’s unreal, gripping you like a vice, all hot and slick, and she’s losing it—moaning your name in these broken, needy little gasps that make your blood burn. You’re relentless, hips snapping hard, driving your cock deep with every thrust, and she’s taking it like she was made for it, her nails clawing at your back, leaving raw streaks that sting in the best way. “Fuck, you feel so good,” you growl against her ear, nipping at her lobe, and she shudders, her breath hitching as you hit that spot inside her that makes her whole body tense. “Yeah, right there,” she whines, voice all slutty and desperate, “don’t stop—please, don’t fucking stop.” Her submissiveness is killing you, the way she’s begging, totally at your mercy, and you’re loving every second of ruining her like this.

You shift your grip, one hand digging into her hip, the other sliding up to squeeze her tit, thumb flicking over her hard nipple. “Look at you,” you say, voice rough and thick with lust, “such a needy little slut—my big cock’s wrecking you, huh?” She nods, frantic, her eyes half-lidded and glossy, lips parted as she pants, “Yes, fuck, yes—wreck me, please.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss her hard, sloppy, tongues clashing as you pound her harder, the wall thudding with every slam. Her pussy’s dripping down your cock, soaking you, and the wet slap of your bodies colliding is loud enough to fill the whole damn apartment. She’s close—you can feel it in the way her walls flutter, the way her moans turn into these high-pitched whimpers, her thighs starting to shake around you. “Gonna cum for me?” you mutter, slowing just enough to grind into her deep, rolling your hips so she feels every inch. “Come on, baby, let that tight little pussy cum all over me.”

She’s practically sobbing now, clinging to you like she’ll fall apart if she lets go, and you speed up again, ruthless, fucking her through it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m—” she stammers, and then she’s there, her whole body locking up as she cums hard, a sharp, shuddering cry ripping out of her. Her pussy clamps down on you, pulsing tight and wet, and it’s like she’s trying to pull you over the edge with her, but you grit your teeth and hold back, not ready to finish yet. She’s shaking, gasping, her head dropping against your shoulder as she rides it out, and you keep going, slower now, letting her feel every thrust through the aftershocks. “Good girl,” you murmur, kissing her sweaty temple, “took it so fucking well.” She’s whimpering, oversensitive but still pushing back against you, needy even now, like she can’t help herself.

You pull out slow, her pussy clenching around nothing as you do, and she lets out this pitiful little whine, like she’s mad you’re leaving her empty. “Come on,” you say, voice low and commanding, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward your room. She stumbles after you, legs wobbly from the orgasm, her heels clicking unevenly on the floor. You kick the bedroom door open, the dim light from your bedside lamp casting shadows over the messy sheets, and turn to her, nodding at those strappy sandals still clinging to her feet. “Lose the heels,” you tell her, and she bends down—ass in the air, thong still askew—unstrapping them quick, kicking them off so they clatter against the wall. You're still fucking hard, cock throbbing just watching her, and when she straightens up, you point to the bed. “All fours, now.”

She doesn’t hesitate, climbing onto the mattress, sinking down on her hands and knees, ass up high like a fucking offering. Her back’s arched, thong stretched tight over her hips, and you step up behind her, running a hand over the curve of her ass before smacking it lightly, making her jump. “Goddamn, look at you,” you mutter, grabbing her hips and yanking her back a little, lining her up. “So fucking slutty—begging for more even after I made you cum.” She glances back over her shoulder, hair falling in her face, lips parted. “Please,” she says, voice shaky but dripping with want, “fuck me again—need your cock so bad.” You grin, dark and hungry, and tug her thong down just enough to bare her pussy, still glistening, swollen from before. “Yeah, you do,” you say, sliding your cock along her slit, teasing her until she’s squirming. “This big dick’s all you can think about, huh?”

You don’t wait for an answer—just thrust in, hard and deep, filling her up in one go. She cries out, loud and raw, her hands fisting the sheets as you start fucking her again, the bed creaking under you. “Fuck, you’re huge,” she moans, voice muffled as she buries her face in the pillow, but you grab her hair, pulling her head back just enough to hear her better. “Take it,” you growl, pounding her steady, watching her ass jiggle with every slam, “take this cock like the little slut you are.” She’s whining, pushing back against you, needy and wild, and you can feel her pussy still twitching from her last orgasm, sensitive as hell but greedy for more. “Ruin me,” she gasps, voice breaking, “fucking ruin me with it,” and you do—fucking her hard, deep, relentless, determined to leave her a shaking mess all over again.

Her pussy’s tight and dripping, swallowing your cock with every brutal thrust, and she’s rocking back into you, desperate, her elbows sinking into the mattress as she arches that perfect ass higher. The thong’s still tangled around her thighs, stretched and useless, and her skin’s glistening with sweat, glowing in the low light of your room. You’ve got her hips in a death grip, those wide, sexy curves filling your hands, and you’re pounding her so hard the sound of your skin slapping hers is echoing off the walls, filthy and loud.

Then she turns her head, just enough to catch your eye, lips parted and panting. “Spank me,” she says, voice cutting through the haze, all breathy and raw. “Fucking slap my ass—leave a mark so I’ll never forget this.” And fuck, that’s like a match to dry grass—exactly what you want, what you’ve been itching to do since you bent her over. You grin, dark and feral, and bring your hand down hard on her right cheek, a sharp crack ringing out over her scream. Her whole body jolts, ass jiggling from the impact, and she clenches around your cock so tight it’s almost painful. “Yes, fuck, like that!” she cries, voice breaking into this slutty little whimper, and you can tell she’s loving it, the sting, the heat, the way her skin’s already turning pink. You don’t stop—slap her again, harder this time, leaving a bright red handprint blooming on that perfect curve, and she’s screaming now, pleasure ripping out of her in waves.

“Goddamn, you’re such a freak,” you growl, smacking her left cheek now, matching the mark, and her hips buck back against you, chasing your cock even as she gasps from the pain. “Want me to brand you, huh? Make sure you feel this last fuck every time you sit down?” She moans, loud and shameless, nodding into the pillow. “Yes, please—fucking mark me, make it hurt, I don’t care.” You oblige, spanking her again and again, alternating sides, each hit stinging your palm as much as it’s lighting her up. Her ass is a masterpiece of red now, glowing hot under your hand, and you grab those wide hips tighter, fingers digging into her flesh as you keep railing her, the bed shaking like it might collapse. “Look at this ass,” you say, voice rough with lust, “so fucking sexy—gonna miss spanking it red, watching it bounce while I wreck you.”

She’s whimpering now, half-screaming into the sheets, her body trembling but still pushing back for more, like she can’t get enough of the mix—your cock stretching her out, the sharp sting of your hand, the way you’re owning her completely. “Harder,” she begs, voice muffled but dripping with need, “slap me harder—fuck me up, it’s the last time.” You growl low in your throat, bringing your hand down with a smack that’s so loud it’s almost deafening, and she shrieks, her pussy clamping down on you again, wet and pulsing. “Like that, you little slut?” you ask, spanking her once more for good measure, leaving her ass a fiery red mess of handprints. “Gonna remember this cock, this spanking—gonna feel me for days?” She’s nodding, frantic, her moans turning into these broken sobs of pleasure, and you can feel how close she is again, her walls fluttering, her body begging for release even as you keep punishing her.

You grab her hips with both hands now, holding her steady as you pound into her harder, the spanks still ringing in your ears, her ass so red it’s practically glowing. “Fuck, Yuna, you’re unreal,” you mutter, voice strained, feeling the sweat drip down your back as you fuck her senseless. “This tight pussy, this slutty ass—gonna miss ruining you like this.” She’s gasping, barely coherent, just a string of “yes, yes, fuck, yes” spilling out of her as she takes it, her wide hips swaying with every thrust, her skin marked up and claimed. You’re not letting up, determined to drag her over the edge again, to make this last fuck something she’ll never shake—your cock, your hands, the way you’re breaking her down into a trembling, needy mess.

Then you switch, flipping her onto her back on the bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and she doesn’t fight it—just lets you take control, her body pliant and trembling from how hard you’ve been working her. Her ass is still red-hot from the spanking, handprints stark against her skin, and that thong’s been stuck around her thighs long enough to be a damn nuisance. You grab it, yanking it down her legs in one rough tug, the fabric snapping against her sweat-slicked skin before you toss it somewhere behind you—don’t care where, just want it gone. She’s sprawled out beneath you now, slim and gorgeous, all tan lines and sharp curves, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. You climb on top, pressing your weight down on her, pinning her to the mattress, and her legs spread wide, instinctive, inviting you back in. You slide your cock into her again, slow at first, feeling that tight, wet heat swallow you whole, and she gasps, her hands flying to your shoulders like she needs something to hold onto.

“Fuck, I wanna see your face when you cum,” you tell her, voice low and gritty, locking eyes with her as you start thrusting again. Her pussy’s so slick it’s obscene, sucking you in with every move, and this new angle—it’s intense as hell, deeper, hitting her just right. She’s staring up at you, lips parted, eyes glassy with lust, and there’s something softer in there too, something that catches you off guard. You lean down, your chest pressing against hers, her tits crushed between you, and the pace picks up—still raw, still dirty, but it’s shifting, turning into this messy, passionate thing that’s got your head spinning. “Gonna watch you fall apart on my cock,” you mutter, lips brushing her jaw, and then you’re on her neck, sucking hard, leaving a mark—a dark, bruising hickey right where her pulse is hammering. She moans, loud and slutty, her fingers tangling in your hair, tugging at it like she’s trying to pull you closer.

“Babe—fuck, babe,” she gasps, the word slipping out all needy and raw, and it hits you like a punch, twisting something deep in your gut. She’s never called you that before—not like this—and it’s killing you, the way it sounds so desperate, so fucking real. Her legs wrap around your hips, pulling you in tighter, and you can’t help yourself—you’re kissing her neck again, leaving another hickey, then another, marking her up like she’s yours, even if it’s just for tonight. “You’re driving me insane,” you groan against her skin, voice breaking a little, and you pull back just enough to look at her—her face flushed, eyes wild, that perfect mouth open and begging. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Yuna—damn, you’ve got me losing it.” It’s too much, too honest, but you can’t stop it from spilling out, not when she’s looking at you like that, not when her pussy’s clenching around you, hot and tight and perfect.

She’s close—you can feel it, the way her breaths are coming faster, sharper, her body tensing under you, her nails digging into your scalp. “Fuck, I—I can’t,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, “you’re too good, babe, too fucking big—gonna cum again, I swear.” Her hips are rolling up to meet every thrust, needy and frantic, and you’re pounding her harder now, the bed creaking like it’s about to give out, your cock slamming into her so deep she’s shaking. “Do it,” you growl, nipping at her collarbone, leaving another mark, “cum for me, let me see that pretty face when you lose it.” She’s moaning your name now, over and over, her hands clutching at you like she’s scared to let go, and the way she’s giving herself up to you—raw, slutty, but somehow soft too—is making it impossible to keep your head straight.

You shift, propping yourself up on your forearms so you can watch her better, your thrusts slowing just a little—not enough to ease off, but enough to drag it out, make it linger. Her eyes flutter shut, then open again, locking onto yours, and there’s this spark there, this connection that’s more than just fucking. “You’re killing me,” she whispers, voice all shaky and sweet, and her hand slides from your hair to your cheek, trembling as she touches you. “Last time, huh? Then fuck me like you mean it.” You groan, leaning down to kiss her—hard, messy, tongues clashing—and it’s still dirty, still rough, but there’s this edge of something tender creeping in, making your chest tight. You pick up the pace again, slamming into her, her slim body rocking under you, and she’s so close—her pussy’s fluttering, her moans turning into these high, broken cries.

The room’s thick with it—the smell of sex, the sound of her moans mixing with your grunts, the slap of your hips against hers as you drive into that tight, pink pussy like it’s the last time you’ll ever feel it. Because it is. Her legs are locked around your waist, pulling you in, her nails raking down your back, leaving trails of fire that only make you thrust harder. She’s a mess beneath you—hair splayed out on the pillow, lips swollen and parted, hickeys blooming dark on her neck—and you’re just as gone, sweat dripping down your chest, your cock throbbing inside her with every move. You can feel it building, that hot, heavy pressure in your gut, and you know you’re close. “Fuck, Yuna,” you pant, voice rough and strained, “I’m gonna cum—gonna blow any second.”

Her eyes snap open, wide and wild, locking onto yours, and she tightens her grip on you, legs squeezing your hips like she’s scared you’ll pull away. “Cum inside me,” she says, voice low and desperate, cutting through the haze of your lust like a blade. You freeze for a split second, brain short-circuiting—did she just say that? “What?” you choke out, thrusts slowing but not stopping, and she nods, frantic, her hands clutching at your shoulders. “I’m on the pill, it’s fine—please, cum inside me, I need it.” You’ve never done that before—not with her, not ever. It’s always been her face, her mouth, those flat, tight abs, or that perfect ass. The thought of filling her up, pumping your load deep into that sweet, tight cunt—it’s like a switch flips, and suddenly you’re hornier than you’ve ever been, your cock twitching hard at the idea. “Fuck, you serious?” you ask, voice gravelly, and she nods again, biting her lip. “Please, babe—I need to feel your cum inside me, just once. Gotta know what it’s like.”

That’s it—you’re done for. “Alright,” you growl, leaning down to kiss her neck, sucking another hickey into her skin as you pick up the pace, slamming into her with everything you’ve got. “Gonna give it to you, Yuna—gonna fill that tight little pussy up.” She moans, loud and slutty, her whole body rocking with you, and it’s like she flips a switch of her own, turning into this needy, begging mess. “Yes, fuck, please—give me your cum, babe, make me your cumslut,” she whines, voice breaking as her legs tighten around you, pulling you deeper. “I wanna feel it—wanna feel you unload in me, need it so bad.” Her words are filthy, dripping with lust, and it’s driving you wild, the way she’s begging like some desperate little slut who can’t live without it. “You’re such a fucking cumslut,” you mutter, grinning darkly as you pound her harder, the bed shaking, her tits bouncing under you. “Begging for my load—gonna give you every drop, make you take it all.”

She’s panting, sweaty, her hands in your hair now, tugging at it as she stares up at you, eyes pleading. “Please, please, cum in me—make me yours, fill me up,” she chants, her voice all high and slutty, and you can feel her pussy clenching around you, hot and wet, pushing her closer to the edge again. You’re right there with her, the pressure in your balls building, your cock swelling inside her, and you know it’s gonna be big—huge, even. “Fuck, Yuna, I’m close,” you groan, thrusting deep, your hips slamming against hers so hard she’s sliding up the bed. “Gonna cum—let’s do it together, yeah?” She nods, frantic, her breath hitching. “Yes, yes—cum with me, babe, fill me while I cum on your cock, please!” Her begging’s got you teetering, and you can feel her tipping over too, her walls fluttering, her moans turning into these raw, broken cries.

Then it hits—you both lose it at the same time. “Fuck, here it comes,” you rasp, and you thrust one last time, deep and hard, burying yourself in her as you cum, hot and thick, unloading everything you’ve got. It’s a flood—your cock pulsing, pumping rope after rope of cum into her, filling her up just like she begged for. She’s cumming too, her pussy spasming around you, milking you dry as she screams, her head tipping back, eyes rolling up in pure, slutty bliss. “Oh my god—fuck, I feel it,” she gasps, voice shaking, “so much cum—shit, it’s so good.” You’re emptying your sack into her, a massive, sticky load, and she’s taking it all, her body shuddering under you, legs locked tight like she’s scared you’ll pull out too soon. You keep going, groaning as you pour it into her, and she’s beautiful like this—face wrecked, mouth open, those dark eyes rolling back as she savors every pulse.

You’re spent, chest heaving, but you can’t resist—leaning down, you kiss her cheek, soft and quick, then again, murmuring, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous—absolutely fucking beautiful.” She blinks up at you, dazed, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You gave me so much,” she says, voice hoarse but warm, “so fucking much cum—I’m never gonna forget this, babe.” You pull out slow, reluctant, and she spreads her legs a little, reaching down with shaky fingers to part her pussy lips. Your cum leaks out, thick and white, dripping slow from her swollen, pink hole, and she sighs—this long, satisfied sound that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “Look at that,” she whispers, almost to herself, “you filled me up good.” It’s obscene, the way it’s spilling out, pooling on the sheets, and you just stare, mesmerized, because it’s also the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen—her, marked by you, claimed in a way you never thought you’d get to have.

—

The shower’s running hot, steam curling up around you both as you stand under the spray, the water pounding against the tiles like it’s trying to drown out the heavy silence between you. Yuna’s in front of you, her back turned, all slim and delicate, her wet hair plastered down her spine like a dark ribbon. You’re soaping her up, hands sliding over her skin—smooth, slick, warm—rubbing the bar of soap across her shoulders, down the curve of her back, tracing the faint red marks from earlier that are starting to fade. It’s quiet, too quiet, and the weight of everything that just happened is sitting on your chest like a brick. The sex, the cum, the way she begged, the way you gave in—it’s all there, swirling in your head, mixing with the steam, making it hard to think straight. She’s not saying anything, just letting the water hit her face, and you’re not sure what to say either, so you just keep soaping, hands moving slow, almost mechanical.

Then she turns around, sudden and soft, and the water’s streaming down her face, soaking her lashes, dripping off her chin. “I don’t want this to end,” she says, voice low and shaky, cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife. You freeze, dropping the soap, letting it clatter to the floor, and your hands find her back, holding her there, feeling her heartbeat through the wet press of her, because it sounds like she’s crying—her words wobbling, her breath hitching—but the water’s blurring everything, and you can’t tell if it’s tears or just the spray. She steps closer, pressing her thin, naked body against yours, her arms wrapping around your waist, her head resting on your chest.

“I don’t want this to end,” she says. “I mean it—I can’t do this ‘last time’ bullshit. I need you, okay? I need us.”

You just stare at her, water streaming into your eyes, blinking it away because you’re caught off guard, heart hammering against your ribs. She’s crying now—you’re sure of it, her breath hitching, her lips quivering—and she steps closer, pressing her forehead to your chest, her wet hair sticking to your skin. “You’re so fucking great, you know that?” she mumbles, voice muffled against you. “You’re funny as hell—like, you make me laugh so hard I forget all the crap in my head. And you’re kind, not fake-nice like some assholes, but real, quiet kind. You listen when I talk, even when I’m just bitching about dumb stuff like my profs or whatever. And those late-night talks? After we fuck, when we’re just lying there, sweaty and stupid, talking about movies or what we’d do if the world ended? That’s my favorite thing. I didn’t even know I could like someone this much, and it scares the shit outta me, but I do. I like you—a lot. More than I ever meant to.”

She’s shaking a little, clinging to you, and you feel this knot in your throat because—fuck—you’re so gone for her it’s ridiculous. You pull her back gently, just enough to look at her—eyes red, lashes clumped with water, lips parted like she’s waiting for you to say something, anything. “Yuna,” you start, voice rough, scraping out of you like it’s been buried too long, “I don’t want this to end either. You think I can just walk away from you? From this? I’m fucking in love with you, alright? Like, stupid, head-over-heels, can’t-think-straight in love with you, and it’s been killing me pretending this is just some casual hookup thing.”

Her eyes widen, a little gasp slipping out, but you’re on a roll now, hands sliding to her face, cupping her cheeks as the water keeps falling, soaking you both. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re badass and smart—way smarter than me, don’t even try to deny it—and you’ve got this way of looking at me that makes me feel like I’m worth something. I love how you tease me, how you call me out on my shit, but then you’ll just curl up next to me like I’m your safe place or whatever. And those nights? When we’re just talking, laughing, fucking around until we’re too tired to move? That’s the best shit I’ve ever had. I love how you’re not afraid to be you—all messy and loud and real. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s freaking me out, but I don’t wanna lose it. I don’t wanna lose you.”

She’s staring up at you, water running down her face, and for a second, it’s like the world stops—just you and her, the shower drowning out everything else. Then she laughs, this shaky, relieved sound, and buries her face in your chest again, arms wrapping tight around you. “God, you’re such a sap,” she mutters, but it’s soft, affectionate, and you can feel her smiling against your skin. “I fucked up, okay? I was a bitch—pushing you away, acting like I didn’t care. I didn’t mean it. I was just… scared, I guess. Scared I’d fuck this up, scared you’d figure out I’m not as cool as I pretend to be. But I like you so much—too much. I love this, us, all of it. I don’t wanna stop.”

You tilt her chin up, thumb brushing over her wet lips, and she’s looking at you like you hung the damn moon. “So don’t,” you say, voice low but firm. “Don’t stop. I’m in this, Yuna—I want this, I want you. But you gotta stop running, alright? No more pretending I don’t exist out there.” She nods, quick and earnest, her hands sliding up your back. “I won’t—I swear. I’ll be better. I’ll brag about you to everyone, I don’t care. Just… give me another shot. Please.” You lean down, forehead pressing to hers, and it’s like all the tension just melts under the hot water. “Promise me,” you say, and she surges up, kissing you deep and slow, her lips soft and salty with what might be tears or just the shower. “I promise,” she whispers, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, “I’m yours, okay? For real.”

You’re barely two steps inside, trying to squeeze past a vampire and a fairy having a loud argument, when a hand clamps down on your arm.

“There you are! I thought you had crashed your car on the way.”

You turn to find Gaeul, your frantic, desperate friend and the reason you’re in this personal hell. She’s dressed as some kind of celestial witch, a midnight-blue velvet dress that clings to her frame, speckled with tiny, glittering silver stars. More stars are painted around her eyes, which are wide with relief and manic urgency. She looks incredible, but you’re in no mood to appreciate it. She starts pulling you through the crowd without waiting for a response.

“Seriously, what’s the big emergency? Did your Wi-Fi go out?” you ask, raising your pitch to be heard over a song with a truly obscene amount of bass. You stumble after her, trying your best not to step on anyone’s elaborate costume.

“Worse! So much worse. Just… come on!”

She navigates the sea of bodies with an expertise you can only envy, dragging you in her wake. Your eyes dart around reflexively, scanning faces, a frantic search engine running on a single, terrifying keyword: Yujin. Every flash of long, dark hair makes your heart seize. You see a girl with a familiar laugh and nearly go into cardiac arrest before realizing it’s just someone from one of your shared classes. This is torture. You’re a mouse in a maze where the cheese is a conversation you would rather die than have.

Gaeul finally shoves through a beaded curtain and hauls you up the stairs, the music mercifully dulling to a muffled, rhythmic pounding against the floorboards. She leads you into her bedroom and closes the door, plunging the two of you into relative silence. The room is a sanctuary of calm compared to the chaos downstairs. Posters of bands you’ve never heard of cover the walls, and a pile of clothes sits precariously on a desk chair. And there, on her desk, is the source of the emergency: her computer, its screen a cycling nightmare of glitching colors and error messages.

You drop onto her desk chair, which thankfully doesn’t collapse. “Okay, what did you do to it?”

She paces behind you, wringing her hands. The starlight on her dress shimmers with the movement. “I didn’t do anything! I was trying to queue up a new playlist for later, and it just… did that. It’s been restarting itself for an hour.” A dramatic sigh escapes her. “My entire life is on there.”

“Your life is not on there, Gaeul. Your meticulously organized collection of shitpost is on there,” you mutter, already tapping at the keyboard, trying to boot it into safe mode. You can fix this. It looks like a corrupted driver, maybe a botched update. Annoying, but not the world-ending catastrophe she’s making it out to be. It gives you something to focus on other than the Yujin-shaped anxiety monster chewing on your insides. “Why is fixing this so important right now? It’s your party.”

“Because I need it. For… stuff. Later stuff.” The explanation is so vague it’s practically transparent. She leans against the edge of her desk, crossing her arms over her chest. The velvet of her dress pulls taut. “So. Glad you could make it.”

“I’m not ‘making it.’ I’m your IT guy. I’m fixing this and then I’m bailing.”

Gaeul is quiet for a moment, watching you work.

Then, she drops the bomb. Casually.

“Yujin’s here, you know.”

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard for a fraction of a second. It’s a small, almost imperceptible hesitation, but you know she sees it. You force yourself to resume typing, your eyes glued to the lines of code appearing on the screen.

“Oh, yeah? Cool.” You make your tone as breezy and unconcerned as possible. It’s a masterful performance, or so you tell yourself.

“Yeah. She was asking where you were.”

Of course she was. You’ve been ignoring her texts for three weeks. You’ve crossed the street to avoid her on campus. You’ve turned a friendly, comfortable, years-long friendship into this… this agonizingly awkward minefield, all because you couldn’t keep your stupid, drunken mouth shut.

“I’ve just been swamped with that programming project,” you lie. “Barely had time to breathe. I’ll track her down and say hi before I head out.”

Gaeul hums, a low, knowing sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. She knows you’re full of it. You just don’t know how she knows.

“You should. She looks… honestly? It’s kind of ridiculous how good she looks tonight.”

You don’t respond. You just keep working, focusing on the diagnostic report now running on the screen. Don’t take the bait. Don’t ask. If you ask, you’re admitting you care, and if you admit you care, you’re one step closer to having to face her.

But Gaeul, your wonderful, meddling friend, doesn’t need you to ask.

“She came as a cowgirl,” she continues. “Not, like, a cute, cartoony one. More like a… ‘I’ll ruin your life in the best way possible’ kind of cowgirl. It’s a whole situation.”

An image flashes in your mind, unbidden and unwelcome. Yujin. Tall, confident Yujin, with her impossibly long legs and that smile that always looks like she knows a secret you’re dying to hear. Yujin in a cowgirl outfit. You feel a flush of heat creep up your neck and you pray the dim lighting in the room hides it. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry.

“Right. Cool.” Your reply is clipped, robotic.

“You’re really not going to stay for a bit?” The question is softer this time. “Come on. Just for one drink. It’s my party. I barely get to see you anymore.”

You finally fix the driver issue. The screen flickers, and the familiar desktop wallpaper of Gaeul’s cat appears, stable and blessedly error-free. You feel a surge of triumph. Your escape route is clear.

You push the chair back and stand up, finally turning to face her. You avoid her gaze, focusing on a poster behind her head.

“I can’t. Seriously. I have to work tomorrow. Not everyone can party like you, Gaeul.” You hate lying to Gaeul, but you’d hate facing Yujin even more.

Gaeul’s face falls. The starlight makeup can’t hide the genuine disappointment in her eyes. She knows you’re lying. You can see it in the slight press of her lips, the way her shoulders slump. But she doesn’t push it.

“Okay,” is all she says.

“Computer’s fixed,” you announce unnecessarily, gesturing toward the screen. “Just don’t download any weird stuff and you should be fine.”

“Thanks. For real. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime.” You start for the door, your entire body humming with the need to be gone. “I’ll just… see myself out.”

“Wait,” she calls out, and you freeze with your hand on the doorknob. “Just… be careful. It’s a jungle out there.”

The comment is strange, but you brush it off as her just being Gaeul. You give her a weak, tight-lipped smile and slip out of the room, leaving her standing alone amidst the faint, glittering stars on her dress. The wall of noise and heat hits you again. Now for the hard part: getting out of the house unseen.

The staircase feels like a descent into the seventh circle of hell. The music gets louder with each step, the air growing thicker and warmer. You squeeze past a couple dressed as Romeo and Juliet who seem to be in the middle of a very dramatic, very public breakup. You offer a sympathetic grimace you don’t feel and keep moving.

Near the kitchen, a guy in a surprisingly realistic Shrek costume claps you on the shoulder.

“Dude! Didn’t think you were coming!”

You give him a tight, one-armed hug, your body angled toward the door the entire time. “Can’t stay long. Just came to drop something off for Gaeul.” Another lie to add to your growing collection for the evening.

“Bummer, man. We were about to start a game of…”

You’re already moving before he can finish the sentence, offering a vague wave over your shoulder. “Next time!”

You can see it now. The beautiful, rectangular outline of the front door. Freedom is ten feet away. Eight feet. Five. A couple of people are blocking the path, laughing loudly, but you see a gap. You can slip through it. You are so close, so incredibly close to making a clean getaway, to getting back to the safety of your car and the solitude of your apartment where you can properly wallow in your own self-inflicted misery.

Your hand is reaching for the doorknob when it happens.

Something coarse and surprisingly heavy snakes around your chest, cinching tight over your arms and pinning them to your sides. You lurch to a halt, pulled back with a force that almost knocks the wind out of you. Your first thought is that it’s some drunk idiot, a prank gone too far. You’re about to whip around and tell them exactly where they can shove their party trick when a sound cuts through the music.

“Yee-haw! Gotcha, partner!”

The exclamation is bright, playful, and so gut-wrenchingly familiar that every drop of blood in your body turns to ice.

No. It can’t be.

You turn around slowly, mechanically, as if your body is no longer under your own control. The rope, a genuine, honest-to-god lasso, is pulled taut. You follow its length to the person holding the other end, and your heart plummets directly into your shoes.

There she is. An Yujin.

Gaeul’s description didn’t do her justice. It wasn’t even in the same universe. She’s planted her feet, one hand holding the rope, the other resting cockily on her hip. She’s wearing a pair of scuffed, dark brown cowboy boots that come up to her mid-calf, showing off the ridiculously toned legs you’ve tried so hard not to stare at for the last three years. Above that is a short, black leather skirt that hugs the curve of her hips perfectly. The main event, though, is the crimson red vest she’s wearing. She has nothing on underneath it. Absolutely nothing. The deep V-neck displays an expanse of smooth, perfect skin and the delicate curve of her collarbones. A crisp white cowboy hat sits tilted on her head, shadowing her eyes just enough to make her look mysterious and dangerous. She is, without a doubt, the most incredible thing you have ever seen, and you have never wanted to be on another planet more than you do in this exact moment.

She’s beaming, a triumphant, brilliant smile that lights up her entire face. She tugs on the rope, pulling you a step closer.

“Well, well, well. Looks like I finally caught the most wanted fugitive in this here county.” The drawl she puts on is ridiculous and charming and you hate it. You hate every single thing about this. “You’ve been a hard one to track down.”

You try to muster a response, but your throat has closed up. Your brain is just a loop of static and panic. You’re trapped. She literally caught you.

You manage a weak, strangled laugh that sounds more like a cough. “Very funny, Yujin. Can you…?” You gesture vaguely with your head toward the rope.

“Now why would I do that?” She takes another step closer, reeling you in like a fish. The scent of her perfume, light and sweet, cuts through the stale party air. “A good sheriff never lets the bad guy go.”

You have to play along. If you don’t play along, the game ends, and the real, terrifying conversation begins.

“I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” you manage, finding some semblance of composure. “I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

“Oh yeah? My sources tell me you’ve been avoidin’ your civic duties. Namely, sayin’ hello to your best friend.”

A direct hit. She’s not even trying to be subtle.

“I… was just about to do that,” you lie, knowing how pathetic it sounds.

She tilts her head, and the smile never wavers. “Sure you were. On your way out the door.” She looks you up and down, a slow, deliberate appraisal. “I don’t recognize your costume, though. Who’re you supposed to be?”

You look down at your plain black hoodie and jeans. Your costume is a guy who didn’t want to come to a costume party.

“I’m an average guy. It’s a very meta, very subtle commentary on societal expectations.”

The explanation is so stupid it actually makes her laugh. For weeks, you’ve been starving for that sound while simultaneously running from it.

“An average guy, huh? Well, you’re my prisoner now, average guy.” Her happiness is radiant, and it makes you feel like even more of a heel for avoiding her.

You clear your throat, trying to regain some footing. “Your costume is… cool. Really cool.”

Her smile softens, turning from playful to genuinely pleased. “You think so? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”

“No, it’s… it’s a whole situation,” you echo Gaeul’s sentiment without realizing it.

“A situation? I’ll take it.” She gives the rope another gentle tug. “So, where were you running off to in such a hurry? The average-guy convention?”

“Ha. No, I just… I have to work in the morning. Early start.” There’s that flimsy excuse again. It feels even more transparent under her direct, knowing gaze.

She raises a single, perfect eyebrow. “Really. Me too. And yet, here I am, at a party, wranglin’ my best friend who’s trying to ghost me.”

“Yujin, I wasn’t…”

“Can we talk?” she cuts you off, her expression shifting completely. The bright, cowgirl persona melts away, leaving just her. Just Yujin. And she looks… sad. “Just for five minutes. Somewhere we don’t have to shout.”

You want to say no. Every self-preservation instinct you possess is screaming at you to make another excuse, to squirm your way out of this and run. But the sight of her looking at you like that, her usual confidence replaced with a quiet, pleading uncertainty, completely undoes you. You’ve never been able to say no to that look.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. But you have to let me go first.”

She grins, a small, relieved twist of her lips. “Deal.”

She expertly shakes her wrist, and the lasso loosens, falling away from your chest. You’re free, but you feel more trapped than ever. As you rub your arms, she begins coiling the rope with a practiced efficiency.

“You’re surprisingly good with that thing,” you observe, desperate to fill the silence.

She laughs, a much quieter, more intimate sound this time. “You have no idea. I’ve been practicing in my backyard all week. Pretty sure my neighbors think I’m insane.” She finishes coiling the rope and hangs it from her belt. “I can almost certainly rope a stationary trash can now. You were my first moving target.”

She came here tonight with a rope and a plan. And you walked right into her trap.

She gestures with her head toward a hallway you hadn't even noticed, tucked away behind the staircase. You nod mutely and follow. It feels like walking the green mile. Every instinct is telling you to turn, to bolt, to make a run for it and never look back. But you can’t. Not when she asked like that. Not when you saw that flicker of hurt in her eyes.

You walk a few paces behind her, your eyes fixed on the coiled rope hanging from her hip. It sways with the confident, easy rhythm of her walk, a walk you know as well as your own heartbeat. As you pass the archway to the main living room, you catch a glimpse of Gaeul across the crowd. She’s talking to someone, but her eyes meet yours for a split second. A slow smile spreads across her face before she gives you a tiny, almost imperceptible thumbs-up.

The pieces click into place with an audible, sickening clang in your mind.

The panicked phone call. The nonsensical, party-ending computer emergency. Her insistence that you come right away. Her casual mention of Yujin. Of course this was a setup. There was never any other way this night was going to go.

Yujin leads you through the hallway and pushes open a door that leads out onto a small, dimly lit back patio. A couple of forgotten folding chairs sit in the corner, but otherwise, it’s empty. The manic energy of the party is muted out here, the bass a dull, distant pulse against the quiet chirp of crickets. The air is cooler, cleaner. There’s nowhere to run.

She doesn't sit. She just turns to face you, leaning back against the brick wall of the house. She pulls the cowboy hat from her head, shaking her dark hair loose. She fidgets with the brim, not looking at you.

“So,” she begins, her focus entirely on the hat in her hands. The silence stretches. She’s waiting for you to say something, but your mind is a blank slate of white-hot panic. “How have you been?”

“Fine.” It’s a colossal lie. You’ve been the opposite of fine. You’ve been a walking ball of anxiety, replaying that one stupid, drunken night on a loop, cringing so hard you’re surprised you haven’t physically imploded.

You feel a pathetic need to fill the silence. “You?”

She finally looks up from the hat, and her eyes find yours in the dim light. “I don’t know, actually.” A small, humorless smile touches her lips. “A little strange, I guess.”

Your heart sinks. Here it comes.

“Strange how?” you ask, even though you know the answer. You’re just delaying the inevitable.

She takes a small breath. “I’ve been feeling confused, mostly.” She takes a step closer, and you have to fight the primal urge to take a step back. “And I guess I just have to ask. Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?”

The question is so direct, so devoid of any accusation. It’s just pure, genuine confusion, and it’s a thousand times worse than if she’d been angry. Anger you could handle. This gentle, wounded bewilderment, you cannot.

“What? No.” The denial comes out rushed, forceful. “No, Yujin, of course not. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then I don’t get it.” She gestures vaguely with the hat. “One minute, everything’s normal, and the next, you’re looking at me like I’m about to serve you legal papers. You’re dodging my texts, you’re conveniently busy every single time I suggest we hang out… I just feel like I’m going crazy.”

She pauses, her gaze searching yours for some kind of explanation. “I thought maybe I said something stupid, or I offended you somehow, but I’ve gone over everything, and I just…” She shakes her head, her hair catching the faint light from the house. “I can’t think of anything.”

“It’s not you. I swear,” you insist. “It’s me. I’ve just been… busy. Stressed.”

“That’s the thing, though,” she continues, completely ignoring your weak defense. “Right before you started being so ‘busy,’ I heard something. From Liz. She said some of our friends were talking about you.”

This is it. The point of no return.

“She told me… that you said some things about me.” A real smile, small and shy, appears on her face for the first time since you came outside. It’s a devastatingly beautiful sight. “A lot of really nice things, apparently. Things you’d never say to my face.”

Your entire body tenses up. That stupid, drunken, rambling monologue you’d delivered to your friends. A multi-point presentation on the perfection of An Yujin, complete with footnotes and a gushing bibliography. Oh god.

“When she told me that, I was… really happy,” she confesses, her focus dropping back to the hat in her hands. “It was nice to hear.”

You have to say something. Your silence is a confession in itself.

“Well… it’s true. All of it.”

Her smile widens just a little. She looks up at you again. “Okay. So that’s what I don’t understand.” She takes another small step forward. You could reach out and touch her now if you dared.

“Liz also told me about the end of that conversation,” she says, her tone becoming even softer. “About what you told them after a few too many shots at that party a few weeks ago. That you… that you really liked me.”

She says it so simply, so matter-of-factly. All the air leaves your body in a rush. The secret you’ve been guarding with your life, the one that’s been eating you alive with embarrassment, is just out there now, hanging in the space between you.

“So I’ve been thinking about that,” she continues. “And then I think about how you’ve been treating me like a stranger for the last three weeks. And the two things just don’t add up. You’re sending the most confusing signals I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

She looks at you, her face open and vulnerable and completely wrecking your carefully constructed defenses. All the panic, all the fear, all the weeks of agonizing cringe… it all feels so stupid in the face of her honesty.

“It made me start to wonder,” she says, so quiet you have to strain to hear it over the distant music and the frantic pounding of your own heart. “Those things you said… the compliments, and… the other thing. Were they not true? Did you just say all that because you were drunk?”

Did you just say all that because you were drunk?

This is it. This is your exit ramp. The get-out-of-jail-free card you’ve been praying for. All you have to do is say yes. Yes, it was the booze talking. Yes, you were exaggerating. You can laugh it off, tell her you’re just a sentimental drunk and the embarrassment of it all is why you’ve been acting so weird. She would understand. Dude, she’s Yujin; she’s the most understanding person you know. She would punch you playfully on the arm, call you an idiot, and just like that, the crushing weight would be gone. Things could go back to normal. You could go back to being friends, watching movies, getting takeout, the comfortable, easy rhythm of your life resuming its beat.

But as you look at her, standing there in the dim light of the patio, her cowboy hat clutched in her hands like a sheriff who let the bandit escape, her expression so open and vulnerable, you know you can’t do it. The lie forms on your tongue and dissolves into poison before you can speak it. Lying to her right now would feel like kicking a puppy. It would be a fundamental betrayal of everything your friendship has ever been. And who are you kidding? You haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. A lie this big wouldn’t fix that; it would just haunt you in new and more inventive ways.

You let out a long, slow breath, the kind you make before you jump off a cliff. Your eyes finally meet hers, holding her gaze for the first time all night.

“No. It was all true. Every word of it.”

Her breath hitches. It’s a tiny, almost inaudible sound, but you see the subtle shift in her posture, the way her grip tightens on the brim of her hat. She was prepared for you to lie. She wasn’t prepared for this.

“Then… why?” The question comes out frayed around the edges. “Why didn’t you just… say something? To me?”

A bitter, humorless laugh escapes you. “Say something? What was I supposed to do, Yujin? Walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, best friend, sorry to interrupt our regularly scheduled programming, but I think I’m in love with you’? You have to know how insane that sounds.” You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets, partly from the chill and partly to keep them from shaking. “You’re my best friend. I didn’t want to… complicate things. To make it weird.”

“Did you ever stop to think,” she begins, “that maybe I’d want things to be complicated? That maybe I felt the same way?”

It’s the thought that has kept you up at night even more than the embarrassment. The terrifying ‘what if’ that feels far more perilous than simple, one-sided pining.

“It’s more complicated than that,” you deflect.

“No, dude, it’s not,” she counters immediately, taking another step forward. The front of her boots are nearly touching yours now. “We’re not complicated. You’re making it complicated. Just say what you feel. All of it.”

You look away, your gaze fixing on a crack in the patio concrete. You have to make her understand the fear. “Do you remember… after Wonyoung and I broke up? We stayed up all night talking in your house.”

She nods slowly. “Yeah. Parts of it. You drank way too much cheap whiskey.”

“I told you I didn’t want to fall in love again,” you continue. “That it wasn’t worth it. The drama, the fallout… all of it. I told you I was done.” You look back at her. “I was serious, Yujin. And for a while, it worked. I was fine. Happy, even.”

You pause, gathering the courage to say the next part. “And then the worst possible thing happened. My feelings for you… they started to shift. To evolve into something else. One day I woke up and I realized I wasn’t just fine. I was falling for you. And it terrified me.”

Her brow furrows, a flicker of something that looks like offense in her eyes. “The worst possible thing? What’s so terrible about falling in love with me?”

The question is so blunt, so Yujin, that it startles a genuine laugh out of you.

“What?” The knot in her brow deepens. “It’s a valid question. Half the guys in that party haven’t been able to take their eyes off me since I got here.”

“I know that,” you say, the laugh softening into a sad smile. “Trust me, I am acutely aware of that. It has nothing to do with you. You’re… you’re Yujin. You’re incredible. That’s the whole problem. The problem is that you’re my best friend. You’re the one person I can’t lose. A relationship can end. People break up, and they stop talking, and they become strangers who know all of each other’s secrets. I can’t do that with you. I need you around.”

“So let me get this straight,” She puts her hat back on her head, as if that would give her some kind of authority. Maybe it does. “In order to make sure you have me around… you decided to start avoiding me completely. To ignore my texts and run away from me at parties. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

She’s right. It’s indefensible. Hearing her lay it out so plainly makes you feel like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Did you and Gaeul plan this whole thing?” you ask, a desperate attempt to change the subject, to get out from under the weight of her flawless logic. “The computer crisis, the rope… this was an ambush, wasn’t it?”

In a swift, fluid motion, she closes the final gap between you. She removes the rope from her belt and lets it fall to the floor, then she puts both of her hands flat on the front of your hoodie, her palms warm against your chest. She’s tall, but with the boots on, she feels imposing. She has you completely and utterly cornered.

“Don’t change the subject,” she commands.

“Easy, cowgirl,” you mutter, your heart hammering against her hands.

“I’m serious.” Her gaze is intense, unwavering. “Stop hiding.”

You look at her, at the genuine concern warring with frustration on her face, and the last of your defenses crumble. The truth comes out, raw and unfiltered.

“I don’t know if I can do it again, Yujin,” you confess. “The whole ‘love’ thing. I think… I think Wonyoung might have broken that part of me. I don’t want to drag you into my emotional mess. You mean too much to me to do that to you. To risk hurting you because I’m… screwed up.”

Her expression softens. Her hands slide from your chest up to your shoulders, her grip gentle but firm.

“But don’t you see? By trying not to hurt me, you’re hurting me anyway. This is worse. Being pushed away by my best friend for reasons I don’t understand? Feeling like I did something wrong? That hurts. A lot.”

She leans in just a little closer, her face inches from yours.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect,” she says, her entreaty a fragile, heartfelt plea. “I’m just asking you not to do this to me. To us. Please. Don’t run away from me anymore.”

You try to form a coherent thought, to say something, anything, that will make sense of the situation, but all that comes out is a raw, frayed whisper. “Yujin, please…”

“Please what?”

Please stop? Please leave you alone? Please kiss you until you forget your own name? She moves even closer, the motion so subtle you barely register it until the tip of her nose brushes against yours. Your breath catches in your throat, trapped. Without thinking, without permission from your panicked brain, your hands find their way to her waist, settling on the warm, bare skin of her back just above the line of her leather skirt. Her skin is unbelievably soft.

You grasp for one last, desperate excuse, the final flimsy shield your cowardice can muster. “You’re drunk.”

A small, knowing smile plays on her lips. She doesn't pull away. “I’m not.” The assertion is confident, steady. “Well. Maybe a little.” She concedes, the smile widening. “But I was sober enough to rope you from ten feet away. My motor skills are clearly intact.”

Your grip on her waist tightens reflexively. “I just… I don’t know if I’m the best guy for you right now. I’m a mess.”

“Good thing that’s not for you to decide,” she murmurs, her warm breath ghosting across your lips.

And then she kisses you.

It’s over. It’s all over, boy. The world narrows to a single point of contact: her mouth on yours. Years of friendship, weeks of agonizing tension, a lifetime of unspoken feelings all combust in a single, silent explosion. Her lips are even softer and fuller than you’d imagined, plump and sweet with a faint taste of the cherry soda she was drinking earlier. It is, without any hint of exaggeration, fucking insane.

She isn't tentative. It’s a kiss of certainty, of relief, a deep and consuming press of her mouth to yours that sends shockwaves down to your toes. You respond on pure instinct, kissing her back with a desperate hunger you didn’t know you possessed. One of her hands slides from your shoulder to cup the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer still. The kiss seems to stretch on for an eternity, a perfect, timeless moment where the muffled party music and the chirping crickets and your entire complicated, messy life just cease to exist.

When she finally pulls back, it’s only by an inch. Her eyes, when they open, are shining, impossibly bright in the dim light. Her cheeks are flushed, and as a breathless smile spreads across her face, her famous dimples make an appearance. They’re deeper, more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them, two perfect little craters in her cheeks that you suddenly have the overwhelming urge to trace with your thumb.

You’re the first to break the charged silence. “My hands are shaking.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, the sound like music. “Mine too. See?” She lifts one of her hands from your shoulder, and you can see the faint tremor in her fingers.

That’s all it takes. Seeing her, just as affected, just as overwhelmed as you are, gives you all the courage you need.

“I guess we're fucked then,” you murmur, before leaning in and kissing her again.

This time is different. The first kiss was a question being answered. This one is a statement. You pull her flush against you, closing any remaining space between your bodies. Your hands, no longer hesitant, begin to roam. They slide down from her waist, over the curve of her hips, past the smooth, cool leather of her skirt. You palm her ass, your fingers digging into the full, fleshy curve. It’s even rounder, heavier, more perfect than you’d imagined. So full. A sharp, hitched breath escapes her as you give a firm squeeze, pulling her impossibly closer, letting her feel the hard evidence of just how much you want her pressed against her stomach.

You break the kiss, resting your forehead against hers, both of you breathing hard.

“Everything okay there, sheriff?” you tease.

A mischievous glint enters her eyes. Her lips curve into a wicked smile. Instead of answering, she crashes her mouth against yours again. This time, her tongue immediately slips past your lips, tangling with yours in a wet, searching dance. It’s sloppy and perfect and utterly intoxicating. She kisses you with a raw, demanding passion, ending it by nipping your bottom lip, a sharp, pleasant sting that makes you groan into her mouth.

You’re both panting now, chests heaving.

“We need to do this,” she says, the statement leaving no room for argument. “Right now.”

Your brain struggles to catch up. “Here? You know Gaeul doesn't like it when people have sex at her house.”

“She will never find out. There’s no one around,” she reasons, glancing around the empty patio. She moves you backward until the back of your knees hit a low wooden bench tucked into the darkest corner of the patio. “Sit.”

You do as you’re told, your legs feeling about as steady as newborn fawns. Before you can even get your bearings, she’s pushing your shoulders back, straddling your lap, and settling her weight down on you. The feeling of her, the heat and solid weight of her body through her thin leather skirt, nearly makes you see stars. She wraps her arms around your neck, her crimson vest gaping open, offering an impossible, tantalizing view of the swell of her breasts.

“Okay,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. “Important question time.” She pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you admit, a wry smile touching your lips. “I didn’t think I’d need one when I came over to fix Gaeul’s computer.”

She lets out a low, throaty chuckle, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Fair enough.” She leans in again, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It’s okay,” she murmurs against your skin, her lips trailing toward your jaw. “I don’t think we’ll need one tonight.”

“Are you… are you sure about that?”

She pulls back to look at you, a confident, almost feral glimmer in her eyes. “Positive.” A sly smirk plays on her lips. “Worst case scenario, I’m on the pill. We’re good.”

As if to punctuate the decision, she shifts her weight and smoothly slides off your lap, her leather skirt whispering against the denim of your jeans. You expect her to sit beside you, to kiss you again, to continue the frantic, heated pace. Instead, she gracefully drops to her knees on the cool flagstones of the patio, right between your legs. She stays there for a moment, looking up at you from under her lashes.

You reach out, your hand slightly trembling, and gently lift the hat from her head, setting it carefully on the bench beside you.

Her gaze never leaves yours as her hands move to the button of your jeans. She works it free with nimble fingers, and the sound of your zipper being pulled down is deafening in the relative quiet. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and your boxers, and with a single, fluid motion, pulls them down your legs, the rough denim scraping against your skin. They pool around your ankles, trapping you.

The cool night air hits your bare skin, a shocking, electric sensation that makes you twitch. And then her hands are on you.

“Oh, wow,” a soft gasp escapes her.

Her hands are warm, so incredibly warm, a stark contrast to the chill. They wrap around your cock, which is already painfully hard, throbbing with a desperate, frantic pulse. Her touch is hesitant at first, curious, as if she’s just acquainting herself with the shape and feel of you. Her thumbs stroke over the sensitive head, smearing the slick pre-cum, and a low, involuntary groan rumbles in your chest.

“Yujin…” Your plea is just her name.

“Shhh,” she murmurs, her eyes wide with what looks like genuine awe as she looks down at you in her hands. “Just… wow. It’s perfect.” She begins to stroke you then, a slow, deliberate rhythm, her grip firm and sure. The sensation is incredible, a friction that is both maddeningly slow and overwhelmingly intense. “I can’t believe I’ve been friends with you for this long and I had no idea you were hiding this.”

Before you can fully process the mind-melting reality of her hands on you, she leans forward. You see her intention a second before it happens, and your stomach plummets. She lowers her head, her long, dark hair brushing against your inner thighs, a feather-light touch that makes you shudder.

And then her mouth is on you.

Her lips are wet and impossibly soft as they close over the head of your cock. It’s a gentle, exploratory touch at first, a soft kiss that sends a lightning bolt straight to the base of your spine. Then she makes a soft humming sound, a little murmur of approval, and takes you deeper. The initial shock is so intense your hips jerk off the bench. Her hand comes up to rest on your thigh, a steadying, reassuring pressure.

There is nothing in your life that could have prepared you for this. The feeling of her hot, wet mouth, the gentle suction she creates, the way her tongue traces lazy, tormenting circles around the most sensitive part of you. It’s a sensory overload. You tip your head back against the wall behind the bench, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to process the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of it all.

Your hands, acting on their own accord, find their way into her hair. It’s just as silky as you always imagined. You fist your hands in the dark strands, not pulling, just holding on, anchoring yourself to reality as she sends you spinning into oblivion.

She picks up the pace, her head bobbing in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. Her other hand is still busy, wrapped around the base of your shaft, stroking you in time with the movements of her mouth. She takes you as deep as she can, the back of her throat tickling against your tip, and you let out a choked groan, the sound torn from you against your will. You have to bite down on your lip, hard, to keep from shouting her name.

She seems to sense your struggle, because she slows down, pulling back just enough to look up at you. Her eyes are dark, hooded with lust, her lips plump and shiny. A thin trail of saliva glistens at the corner of her mouth, and the sight is so incredibly, devastatingly hot that you feel yourself twitching in her grasp.

A satisfied smile spreads across her face as she feels it. She doesn't say anything. She just winks at you before lowering her head again, this time with a renewed, more aggressive purpose. She’s not just sucking you now; she’s devouring you. Her tongue works magic, swirling and flicking, finding nerves you didn’t even know you had. She takes all of you, her cheeks hollowing with the effort, the slick, wet sounds of her mouth on you echoing in the quiet night.

She takes you deeper than you thought possible, and a soft, choked gag escapes the back of her throat. The sound, so raw and involuntary, it’s the most obscene, beautiful noise you’ve ever heard. Her eyes, which had been squeezed shut in concentration, flutter open and meet yours. They’re dark, blown wide with effort and pure, feral lust.

Just as you think you’ve adjusted to the overwhelming sensation, she changes tactics. She slides her mouth off you with a wet, sloppy sound, leaving your dick glistening with her spit and painfully exposed to the cool night air. A frustrated groan escapes you. You think she’s stopping, taking a break.

But she’s not stopping. Oh, no. She’s just getting started.

Her gaze drops from your eyes, down your torso, to the base of your cock. Her hot breath ghosts over your balls, making the sensitive skin tighten and prickle with anticipation. And then her mouth is on them.

The sensation is so alien, so unexpected, that a sharp, ragged gasp is torn from your lungs. It’s nothing like the friction on your shaft. This is a gentle, lapping warmth, a soft, suckling pressure that sends a completely different kind of pleasure jolting through your system. Her tongue, warm and wet, laves over you, tracing the delicate seam, and your toes curl so hard in your sneakers you’re surprised you don’t cramp up.

One of her hands remains wrapped firmly around your shaft, her thumb stroking lazy circles around your piss-slit while her mouth works its magic below. She takes one of your balls fully into the heat of her mouth, sucking gently, a low, appreciative hum vibrating from her throat, through her jaw, and directly into your nuts. It’s fucking insane. You have to clench your jaw, your teeth grinding together to keep from screaming her name into the quiet night.

“You taste so good,” she murmurs against your skin. “Salty. Fucking perfect.”

She gives you one last, long lick, like she’s savoring the last bite of a perfect meal, before moving back up. You brace yourself for her to take your whole length again, for that all-consuming friction to return. But Yujin, your clever, cruel Yujin, has other plans.

Her mouth bypasses your shaft entirely. Her lips close only around the very tip of your cock, and then her tongue comes out to play.

It’s torture. It’s the most exquisite form of torture ever devised.

She licks you like a lollipop, slow, deliberate swirls of her tongue around the sensitive corona. The friction is targeted, precise, a million volts of pure electricity zeroing in on the most sensitive nerve endings you possess. You can feel the distinct, rough texture of her tongue, the soft, yielding pressure of her lips. She uses just the very tip of her own tongue to trace the opening of your urethra, and your whole body seizes, a guttural noise ripped from your chest as your hips buck off the bench.

“Like that? You like it when I do this?”

You can’t form words. You just nod dumbly, your head thumping against the brick wall behind you, your hands tightening their grip in her hair.

“Good,” she breathes, and her pace quickens. It’s a relentless, merciless assault on your senses. She sucks and licks and swirls, slobbering all over the head of your dick, her spit acting as a slick, hot lubricant as her lips slide back and forth over the flared ridge. Every now and then, she scrapes her teeth, just a little, a sharp, dangerous thrill that sends another wave of fire through your veins.

The pressure is building, a deep, coiling knot of heat low in your belly. It’s a slow burn, a tormenting climb that feels a thousand miles away from release, yet threatens to consume you at any second.

She pulls away, leaving you panting and aching, your dick slick with her spit and standing at painful attention. You’re a mess, completely undone, but one look at her tells you she’s just as far gone. Her face is flushed a deep red, her chest is heaving, and her dark eyes are glazed over with a thick, heavy coat of pure lust.

“Fuck,” she groans. “That made me so fucking horny. Just… watching you.” She pushes herself up with a fluid, feline grace, standing before you. She reaches down and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her black leather skirt. “Look,” she commands.

She lifts the skirt slowly, deliberately, revealing a pair of simple, white cotton panties. And right in the center, between her legs, is a dark, spreading wet spot that makes your half-hard cock jolt back to life. It’s not just a little damp; the fabric is soaked, clinging transparently to the swell of her mound and the shape of her pussy lips beneath. Her fingers drift down. She presses her fingertips against the wet fabric, right over her clit, and a shiver visibly racks her body. Her eyes flutter shut for a second.

“This,” she says. “This is what you did to me. Just by being on your knees. Feel how wet you made me.”

Before you can even respond, she lets the skirt drop and moves back to you. She straddles your lap again, settling her weight down, and this time, there’s no hesitation. You can feel the heat of her cunt through her wet panties. She grinds down once, a slow, deliberate circle, and a strangled noise escapes your throat.

With one hand, she reaches down between your bodies, hooking a finger into the side of her panties and pulling the soaked fabric aside. Oh, fuck. You’re about to feel her, the wet, naked heat of her slit pressing against the head of your cock. You instinctively push your hips up, desperate for the contact.

But she stops you. Her hand comes up to your chest, pressing you back against the bench.

“No. Not yet,” she orders, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. “I want to hear you say it first.”

“Say what?” you ask.

“Everything,” she clarifies, leaning in close, her hot breath puffing against your lips. “I want you to tell me how fucking bad you’ve wanted this. Tell me how hot you think I am. I want to hear you say you’ve been dying to fuck me. Tell me. Now.”

Her eyes search yours, a flicker of something almost vulnerable beneath the lust. “I’ve wanted you since you were still with Wonyoung,” she confesses. “I used to watch you two together and just… think about being the one you were holding. Is that fucked up for me to say?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Fuck it. It’s the truth. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

Your hands come up to her vest, As your fingers work at the buttons, the words she demanded start pouring out of you, a torrent of filth you’ve held back for years.

Unbuttoned

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you,” you start. Her eyes immediately glaze over, her pupils dilating. “I think you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. I’ve thought about these tits,” you say, pushing the two sides of the vest open, exposing her perfect, braless breasts to the cool night air. Her nipples are hard, pebbled peaks, begging for your mouth. “I’ve thought about sucking on these nipples until you scream.”

A soft, desperate moan escapes her lips. She’s not just listening; she’s getting off on it, her whole body trembling on your lap.

“I’ve thought about bending you over every piece of furniture in my apartment,” you continue. “I’ve jerked off thinking about this ass,” you say, your hands sliding down to cup the full, heavy weight of it, squeezing hard. “I’ve imagined how fucking tight your pussy would feel wrapped around my cock. How wet you’d get for me.” You lean in, your lips brushing her ear. “I want to ruin you, Yujin. I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week.”

You pull back to look at her. She’s a complete wreck. Her face is flushed, her lips are parted, and her eyes are barely focused. She’s panting, grinding her wet, exposed slit against your thigh, chasing a friction that isn’t there yet.

“Is that what you wanted to know, cowgirl?” you ask.

She just nods, unable to speak, her eyes pleading with you.

“Yes,” she finally chokes out.

You grip her hips, guiding her, positioning her. She rises up just slightly, her wet cunt hovering directly over the head of your thick, waiting dick. And then, with a low, satisfied groan, she sits down.

The feeling is absolute heaven. She’s so fucking wet, her slick pussy lips parting easily as she slowly, deliberately, impales herself on you. She’s impossibly hot and tight, her inner walls clenching around you, gripping your cock in a perfect, suffocating embrace as she takes you inch by agonizing inch.

A sharp, loud hiss escapes through her teeth as your thick cockhead pushes past her pussy lips, and you have to bite down on your own tongue to keep from shouting. You feel every ridge, every fold of her cunt as she sinks down, her inner walls clenching and milking you, until you’re buried balls-deep inside her. You’re both completely still for a moment, chests heaving, just processing the overwhelming sensation of being finally, fully connected. Her eyes are wide, locked on yours.

“Oh my god,” she breathes out. “You’re… you’re so big. I can feel you all the way up inside me.”

Then, she moves.

It’s just a slow, tentative rock at first, a slight forward and back motion. A test. The feeling of her wet slit sliding up and down your shaft is so good it’s almost painful. A low, guttural groan is ripped from your chest, and her face breaks into a wide, breathless grin. The dimples are back, deeper than ever.

“Fuck,” she laughs, a giddy, breathless sound. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“On a bench,” you add. “At Gaeul’s party.”

“Gaeul is a goddamn hero,” she declares, and then she starts to really move.

She lifts her hips, pulling your cock almost all the way out of her slick cunt, the head of your dick rubbing against her clit on the way up, and then she slams herself back down, taking all of you in a single, greedy gulp.

“Ah! Fuck, Yujin!” your hips buck up off the bench to meet her thrust.

“You like that?” she moans, her eyes fluttering shut. “Like when I take it all?”

“Yes,” you pant, your hands gripping her hips, your thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her ass. “Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. She finds a rhythm, a hard, steady pace that has her magnificent, heavy tits bouncing in the dim light. The sound is incredible. The wet, slapping sound of her pussy meeting your groin, a filthy, percussive beat that syncs up with the distant, muffled thud of the party music. It’s the best song you’ve ever heard. You just watch her, completely mesmerized. Her head is thrown back, her long, dark hair trailing down her back, her face a perfect mask of ecstatic pleasure. Her mouth is open, and a steady stream of soft, breathy moans escapes her lips with every downward thrust.

She leans forward, bracing her hands on your shoulders, her face just inches from yours. “Fuck me,” she pants, her forehead slick with a thin sheen of sweat. “Don’t just sit there. Fuck me back.”

You start to move, matching her rhythm, thrusting up hard every time she comes down. It’s not just her riding you anymore; you’re fucking her, your hips slamming into her with a bruising force that makes her gasp.

“Yes! Like that!” she squeals. The force of one particularly hard thrust makes her let out a sound that’s halfway between a moan and a snort.

The ridiculous noise breaks the tension for a split second. A laugh bursts out of you.

“Did you just snort?” you ask, grinning like an idiot.

She glares at you, but there’s no heat in it. Her lips are quirked into a smile. “Shut up and fuck me, you asshole,” she laughs, and then she’s kissing you, a deep, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that tastes like her and spit and pure horniness.

Slowly, the pace becomes punishing. She’s riding you like she’s trying to break you, her hips a blur of motion. You can feel her pussy walls clenching and spasming around your cock, milking you, trying to pull every last drop of cum from your balls.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you groan, sliding one hand from her hip down between her legs. Her own slickness coats your fingers as you search for her clit. You find the hard little nub hidden beneath her pussy lips and start rubbing, your thumb moving in firm, quick circles that match the frantic rhythm of your fucking.

Her reaction is instantaneous and explosive.

“HOLY FUCK!” she screams, her back arching so hard she almost comes off you. Her cunt clenches down on your dick like a vise, and her eyes roll back in her head. “RIGHT THERE! DON’T STOP!”

You don’t. You keep fucking up into her, your thumb driving her completely insane. Her nails dig into your shoulders, but you barely feel the pain. All you can focus on is the sight of her coming completely undone on top of you, the feeling of her tight, wet pussy clenching around your cock, and the raw, filthy sounds she’s making. The pressure in your own balls is building, a hot, coiling snake of need that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

She’s right on the edge, her whole body trembling, her inner walls starting to flutter around you in the unmistakable prelude to her orgasm. You give her one more hard, deep thrust, your thumb pressing down hard on her clit.

“WAIT!” she screams, her body going rigid. She stops moving completely, her hands flying from your shoulders to grip your wrists, stilling your hand. “Wait… holy shit. Don’t. Don’t move.”

She throws her head back, panting, her chest heaving, a sheen of sweat covering her entire body. She’s poised on the absolute precipice, the very peak of her orgasm, and she’s holding herself there, refusing to fall, her pussy clenched so tight around your dick you feel like you might just lose your mind.

She hangs there for a second, a beautiful, obscene statue of pure lust, her entire body clenched tight around your dick. You can feel the frantic, fluttering spasms of her pussy walls, her orgasm right there, a millimeter away from spilling over. But with a shuddering, heroic effort of will, she pulls back from the edge. A long, shaky breath escapes her lips.

“No,” she pants, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Not yet. Fuck… it’s too good. I don’t want it to be over yet.” She looks down at you. “We’re not done.”

And then she starts to move again.

The pace is just as relentless, but the quality has changed. It’s no longer a frantic chase; it’s a deep, punishing, claiming rhythm. She grinds her hips, sinking down onto your cock with a heavy, deliberate force that makes you groan, her pussy lips squeezing and milking you with every slow, powerful rotation. Your hands find their way to her ass again, but you’re not just holding on anymore. You’re mauling her. You dig your fingers into the heavy, soft flesh of her cheeks, kneading the muscle, pulling her down even harder onto your dick with every single thrust. You can feel the skin heating up under your palms, and you know you’re going to leave red, angry handprints all over her perfect ass.

“Fuck, yes,” she moans, thick and guttural as she feels your grip tighten. “Leave marks on me. I want to feel this tomorrow.”

You hook your hands under her ass cheeks, lifting her just slightly and then slamming her back down onto your cock with all your strength.

“Like that?” you grunt.

“YES!” she screams, the sound echoing in the quiet night.

It’s not enough. You need more. You need her closer. Gripping her hips, you haul her upper body down towards you. She collapses against your chest, her bare tits pressing into your collarbones. The sight of them is maddening. They’re perfect, full and round, her nipples still hard, pebbled peaks, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Without another thought, you lower your head and take one into your mouth.

The effect on her is instantaneous.

Her entire body jolts as if struck by lightning. A shocked, high-pitched squeal escapes her lips. “What are you— Oh! Oh, fuck! Yes!”

Her skin is salty from her sweat, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You suck hard, pulling the entire nipple and as much of the areola as you can into the heat of your mouth. You flick your tongue over the sensitive peak, and she just loses it. Her back arches violently, pushing her breast deeper into your mouth, and the rhythm of her riding becomes choppy, erratic, her pussy clenching spasmodically around your dick.

“Please,” she begs. “Oh my god, keep doing that. Suck it. Suck it harder.”

You obey, laving at her nipple like a man starved, occasionally scraping your teeth over the peak, sending fresh waves of shudders through her body. She’s completely gone, her head thrown back, a string of incoherent, whimpering moans falling from her lips as she fucks herself on your cock with a frantic, mindless abandon.

You’re lost in it, lost in the taste of her skin, the feeling of her tight cunt gripping your dick, the sound of her whimpers. You’re so focused that you don’t feel it until it’s too late. As another wave of pleasure from your mouth on her tit crashes through her, she lets out a low, animalistic growl and lunges down, her mouth finding the soft, sensitive spot on your neck where it meets your shoulder.

And then she bites you.

It’s not a playful nip. It’s a hard, possessive, claiming bite. Her teeth sink into your skin, and a sharp, white-hot sting of pain lances through you. The shock of it, the sheer audacity, mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of being buried inside her, is too much. A loud, ragged groan is torn from your throat. She holds on for a second longer, sucking at the spot, before finally releasing you.

She pulls her head back, her eyes feral, her lips slightly smeared with your blood. She looks down at the angry, red teeth marks blooming on your skin.

“Fuck,” you pant, your head spinning. “Yujin, what the hell was that?”

She just smiles, a wicked, triumphant curl of her lips. She leans in and licks the bite mark, her tongue a soothing, hot balm on the stinging skin.

“Mine,” she whispers against your neck. “Just making sure you remember who you belong to tonight.”

You grab her face with a rough palm, thumb dragging across her cheekbone, forcing her wild eyes to meet yours. Her lips are swollen, spit-slick, trembling with a curse that never makes it out before you crush your mouth against hers. The kiss is violent, punishing; your teeth scrape her lip, your tongue ravages, forcing her to submit even as she growls back into your mouth.

When you finally tear away, both of you gasping, your foreheads knock together, your breaths tangling. “Didn’t know you were so fucking possessive,” you rasp, lips brushing hers.

Her eyes glitter dark and sharp, a vicious triumph in her smirk. “I can be,” she purrs, dragging her nails over your chest until you hiss, “when I really, really want something.” The last word is a moan, and then she plants her hands on your shoulders and starts riding you again.

This time it’s not rhythm. It’s demolition. Her hips crash down on your cock with frantic desperation, every thrust an attempt to impale herself deeper, to grind her clit harder against you. Her tits bounce, her head thrown back, her throat bared, every noise she makes rawer, deeper, guttural. Each slap of flesh ricochets through the night air.

“F-fuck! Oh fuck, baby, I’m so close!” she sobs, hair whipping. “I can feel it—I’m right there, oh god!”

You seize her hips, meeting her thrust for thrust, fucking up into her with brutal precision. The bench beneath you creaks, ready to splinter. Your abs burn, your cock feels like it’s about to explode inside her slick, clenching heat. “That’s it,” you grunt, teeth bared, sweat dripping down your temple. “Ride me into the fucking ground. Let it go, Yujin. Cum all over my cock.”

Her moans pitch higher, broken, frantic. “I can’t— I can’t take it anymore! Fuck, it’s too much! I’m gonna— shit, I’m gonna scream so loud!”

You yank her down flush against your chest, your mouth by her ear. “Then scream, baby. Nobody’ll hear you over the music. Scream for me.”

Her eyes flutter back, only the whites showing, and her whole spine bows like a bowstring snapping. Her hands claw into your shoulders so deep it stings, and then it rips out of her - a scream that sounds like it’s being torn from her soul. Not pretty, not polite, but raw, guttural, ragged.

Her pussy clamps down, not a squeeze but a violent seizure, gripping you like a fist, milking you in brutal spasms. Her thighs quiver uncontrollably, her nails gouge your back, her entire body convulses like she’s being electrocuted. She buries her face in the crook of your bitten neck, sobbing your name into your skin, her hot breath and spit soaking you.

Her cunt is chaos around you, fluttering and choking your cock, dragging you toward the edge with every pulse. It feels like lightning storms detonating along your length, wave after wave, her body wringing you dry without mercy.

You can’t help the way your voice tears out, low and rough. “Jesus Christ, Yujin— your pussy’s fucking strangling me. You’re gonna make me cum if you keep milking me like this.”

She’s not even coherent, just babbling against your throat, words broken between sobs and screams. “Ohhh god, it’s so good— it’s too much— I’m shaking— I can’t stop, I can’t stop! Baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!”

Your hands clamp her ass, nails biting into her flesh as you ride out the storm with her, holding her against you while she thrashes and shudders. Her legs spasm around your waist, her whole body trembling like she might fall apart if you let go. Each clench is a dagger of bliss stabbing up your spine, and it takes everything in you not to lose it inside her.

She finally collapses against you, trembling, gasping raggedly, her chest heaving as she twitches through the aftershocks. Her pussy still flutters around your cock, weak little aftershocks that milk you slowly, almost tender now. Her voice is a wreck, broken into hoarse whispers against your ear. “I screamed so fucking loud… oh my god… I couldn’t stop…”

You kiss her sweat-slick cheek, your own jaw clenched from holding back. “That’s exactly what I wanted, baby.”

Her answering moan is a shudder, a wrecked little sound of surrender, as she slumps against you, still impaled, still clinging like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to earth.

You lean in and kiss her, a soft, gentle press of your lips to hers. A kiss to calm her down, to bring her back to earth after you so thoroughly launched her into orbit. She melts into it, a soft, boneless weight in your lap, completely and totally spent. The only sounds are her soft, hitching breaths as she comes down from the peak, the distant, muffled pulse of the party, and the frantic thumping of your own heart. You’re still buried deep inside her, your cooling cock nestled in the hot, twitching aftermath of her cunt

After a long, comfortable silence, she lets out a deep, contented sigh, her breath warm against the bite mark on your neck.

“It’s true, you know,” she murmurs.

You smooth her hair back from her forehead. “What’s true?”

“What they say,” she clarifies, shifting just enough to look up at you. “That having sex with someone you actually love… it’s a million times more intense. It’s not even in the same league.”

For a second, you can’t speak. You just stare at her, at this incredible, impossible girl who just came apart on your dick and is now handing you her heart.

“You love me?” you finally manage to ask.

A soft smile touches her lips, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Of course I do, you idiot.” She settles her head back into the crook of your neck. “We’ve been through everything together. You’ve seen me at my absolute worst, and you’ve been there for my best. You’re my person.” She pauses, and you can feel her swallow against your skin. “Yeah. I love you.”

The simple, honest declaration hits you harder than her orgasm did. A giddy, bubbling warmth spreads through your chest, so potent it almost feels like you could float away. A disbelieving laugh escapes you.

“I didn’t know the tough-as-nails cowgirl was such a sentimentalist,” you tease.

She lifts her head and playfully smacks your chest. “Oh, shut up.”

You just laugh, pulling her in for another deep, lingering kiss.

“I love you too,” you say against her lips, the words you’ve been running from for months finally tasting like freedom. “So much.”

She pulls back, her expression turning serious again, her gaze searching yours. “So… are you going to stop running away now?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, without a single shred of doubt. “I think I can now.” You look away for a second, the shame of your recent behavior washing over you. “I’m sorry, Yujin. For being such a fucking coward. For hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I get it.” She holds your gaze for a moment, and then a slow, wicked smirk begins to spread across her face. “But… there is one way you can make it up to me. A way I might be able to accept your apology.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Her smirk widens, and the look in her eyes is pure filth. “You can cum for me,” she states. “In my mouth. I want to swallow it all.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Okay. The romantic moment ended a little quicker than I expected.”

She just grins, a feral, beautiful thing. She grinds her hips down onto you, and you can feel your cock, which had started to soften, immediately surge back to full, throbbing hardness inside her slick cunt.

“What can I say?” she purrs. “It’s hard to stay in a sentimental mood when I can feel your giant, hard cock pulsing inside my pussy. It’s… distracting.”

And with that, the tender moment is officially over. She pushes herself up, a lithe, powerful motion, and the sound of your dick pulling out of her wet cunt is a loud, obscene slap in the quiet night. She slides off your lap and, without a single shred of hesitation, drops back down to her knees in front of you.

She stays there, looking up at you, her lips parted, her eyes hungry. The message is clear.

You push yourself off the bench and stand before her, your jeans and boxers still pooled around your ankles. You are the victor and the supplicant all at once. She holds all the power, even from her knees. You look down at her, at your best friend, the girl you love, kneeling in the dirt, waiting patiently to take your cum.

Her tongue, pink and wet, darts out and slowly, reverently, licks a stripe from the base of your shaft all the way to the piss-slit. It’s a slow, deliberate taste test, and a shiver racks your entire body.

“Mmm,” she hums, her warm breath ghosting over your sensitive cockhead. “I can taste myself on you. You’re covered in me.” She looks up at you, a wicked glint in her eye. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

And then her mouth is on you again.

This time, it’s different. It’s not an exploration, and it’s not a gentle seduction. This is a mission. She takes you into her mouth with a practiced, greedy efficiency, her lips creating a perfect, wet seal. She’s not just sucking; she’s milking you. Her throat opens, and she takes you deeper than before, her hand wrapped firmly around your base, her other hand cupping your aching, heavy balls. She’s a fucking professional, her head bobbing in a relentless, punishing rhythm, her suction strong enough to pull your soul right out through the tip of your dick.

Every single nerve ending in your body is shrieking like live wires burning under your skin. Heat coils viciously low in your gut, pressure swelling, pulsing, dragging you toward an explosion you can’t hold back. Your thighs tremble, knees nearly buckling, hips jerking forward on their own, desperate for friction, desperate for release. Your cock twitches in her mouth, thick veins bulging, the taste of your own pre slicking her throat while your chest heaves with ragged, guttural groans. You’re right there, right fucking there, seconds away from detonating down her throat.

And she knows. She feels it the instant your muscles seize, the instant your jaw clenches and a broken “fuck!” rips out of you. She pulls back at the last second, your cock slipping free of her lips with a wet sound, a string of saliva dangling between her spit-slick lips and your swollen tip. You’re left dangling, twitching, aching, every drop of self-control about to snap.

Her voice is breathless, ruined with hunger. “Not yet,” she pants, licking the mess from her lips, smearing it across her cheek as her hand wraps tighter around your shaft. Her fist pumps you slow at first, then faster, her thumb grinding across your leaking slit. “God, look at you… your cock’s throbbing in my hand. You’re about to cum, aren’t you? You want to blow your load all over me.”

Your eyes roll back, your head tipping, your throat choking on useless gasps. You can’t form a word. All you can do is moan and nod, pre spilling over her knuckles in heavy drops.

“Ohhh, fuck, baby,” she moans like she’s the one unraveling, staring at your cock with worship burning in her eyes. “You’re dripping for me. You’re so fucking hard. You’ve been holding it in so long… I want it so bad. I want you to flood my throat, drown me in your cum.” Her grip tightens, wrist snapping in brutal strokes that make your knees knock. “Please, please cum for me. I’ve been your good girl. I’ve been waiting, aching, dreaming of you using me like this.” She squeezes at the base, smears pre down your shaft, jerking you harder. “Fill me, baby. Don’t you wanna see me choke on it? Don’t you wanna watch me swallow every drop?”

Your chest heaves, lungs tearing at the air. She looks up, lips glistening, eyes wide, pleading. “Cum for me. Cum for your girlfriend.”

That word slams through your skull like a hammer. Girlfriend. Claim, chain, filthy permission; every defense in your body shatters in an instant.

“I’m gonna— Fuck, Yujin!” you roar as your whole body bows like a bowstring snapping. White-hot lightning explodes from your core, your cock swelling to the breaking point.

Instinct takes you. Your hand clamps over hers, stilling her frantic strokes, and you grip yourself with your own slick fist. You angle your cock at her face, her open mouth, lips stretched into a perfect O, tongue out, begging. Her eyes glitter, her chest rising and falling.

And then it erupts.

A thick, blistering rope of cum launches straight into her throat, forcing her to swallow before she even breathes. You thrust hard, stuffing the head between her lips, pumping jet after jet of molten seed down her gullet. Her eyes roll back, her throat bulges with every obscene gulp as you snarl and grind forward, your cock throbbing uncontrollably. More, and more, and more - hot floods pouring out of you until her mouth overflows, leaking down her chin. You’re groaning, growling, animalistic noises clawing out of your chest as your orgasm drags on, hips bucking like you’re trying to bury yourself in her forever. Your balls clench, squeeze, dump everything, leaving nothing behind.

When at last the spasms die, your body collapses, trembling and hollowed. Your cock slips from her lips with a sticky trail, still drooling cum onto her face. She sits back on her heels, throat painted, mouth filled, chin dripping, her chest heaving with triumphant moans. She looks at the mess coating her, then back at you with a wild, blissful grin.

Without breaking that stare, she closes her lips, cheeks bulging, and swallows - one long, obscene gulp. Her throat works, her lips part again, showing her mouth empty. A string of cum slides from her bottom lip to her chin, dripping onto her tits.

Her grin splits wider, smug and radiant. She wipes her chin with two fingers, sucks them clean. “Mmmh,” she moans, licking her lips, “told you I was hungry.”

Before you can even process a response, she leans forward again. She takes the head of your cock back into her mouth, her tongue expertly swirling around the tip, licking away the last few drops of your release, cleaning you with a reverence that is both humbling and incredibly hot. The feeling of her warm mouth on your now hyper-sensitive dick is so good it makes you moan, a low, exhausted sound.

She pulls back, looking up at you from her knees, her job complete.

“Fuck, Yujin,” you breathe out. “You’re going to kill me.”

She just winks, a drop of your cum still glistening at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t worry, baby,” she purrs. “I know how to bring you back to life.”

You look down at the beautiful, completely insane girl kneeling in front of you, her lips still shiny, her eyes sparkling with a triumphant, filthy confidence.

“You’re absolutely out of your mind,” you say.

She just winks up at you. “And you love it.”

It’s not a question. You just shake your head, still smiling, and reach down to offer her a hand. She takes it, and you pull her to her feet. The spell is broken, and the reality of your situation (half-naked on a patio during a house party) comes flooding back.

Yujin immediately gets to work, pulling her leather skirt back down into place, adjusting the unbuttoned vest over her breasts, and smoothing out her panties from where she’d pushed them aside. “Shit, how long were we out here?”

You’re doing the same, fumbling with your own clothes, pulling up your boxers and jeans with clumsy, post-orgasmic fingers. “I have no idea. An hour? A decade?” You finally manage to get your button and zipper sorted. “Hey, stay here for a sec.” You gesture vaguely towards her mouth. “There’s a little… uh… you’ve got something…”

She touches her chin, her fingers coming away with a faint, sticky residue. She doesn’t even blush. She just laughs.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a clean-up on aisle three,” she quips, before grabbing her cowboy hat from the bench and settling it back on her head.

“I’ll be right back,” you promise. “I’ll get some, uh…”

“Tissues would be fine,” Yujin says, her smile warm and genuine as she buttons her vest. “Thanks.” She pauses, tilting her head. “Such a gentleman.”

The irony makes you snort with laughter. You give her one last, quick kiss and then turn, plunging back into the belly of the beast. The transition from the quiet, intimate bubble of the patio to the full-blown chaos of the party is jarring. The music is louder, the air is hotter, and the sheer number of people seems to have doubled. You navigate the crowd with a new sense of purpose, a goofy, invincible grin plastered on your face.

You make a beeline for the stairs, heading back to the one place you know you can find supplies: Gaeul’s room. You slip inside, the relative quiet a welcome relief. The room is exactly as you left it. You spot a box of tissues on her nightstand and grab a massive, unapologetic handful, hoping she won’t mind the donation to a worthy cause. Mission accomplished. You turn to leave, your mind already back on the patio with Yujin.

You pull the door open and walk straight into a solid object that says, “Oof.”

It’s Gaeul. Of course it is.

“Well, well, well,” she says, taking a step back and crossing her arms. A smug, all-knowing smile is plastered on her face. Her celestial witch costume is a little disheveled now, but her eyes are sharp. “Look who decided to stick around. I was about to file a missing persons report.”

You feel a flush of heat creep up your neck, but you try to play it cool. “Hey. Yeah, sorry. Got held up.”

“‘Held up,’ huh?” Her smile widens. “So I’m guessing my little computer intervention was a success?”

“You could say that,” you admit, a genuine smile breaking through your feigned composure. “We, uh… we talked. Sorted some stuff out.” You can’t help the happiness that bleeds into your statement.

Gaeul’s expression, she lets out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, thank god. Finally.” She uncrosses her arms. “I was getting so tired of the two of you circling each other like depressed, horny sharks. So, where is she? She’s been MIA for a while now, too.”

“She’s out back. On the patio,” you say, gesturing vaguely with your head.

Gaeul nods, satisfied. Her plan worked. She’s a genius. A master of puppets. Her eyes drift over you, and her smile begins to falter.

“Dude, you’re like… really sweaty,” she observes, her brow furrowing slightly. “Did you run a marathon out there?”

“Uh…” You rub the back of your neck. “It was an intense conversation?”

Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Intense conversation...” Her gaze flicks up and down, lingering on the hickey blazing red on your throat. “That is not a conversation. That is a fucking vampire attack.”

“Okay, relax—”

“No, don’t tell me to relax,” she snaps, stepping closer. “You’re sweaty, your hoodie looks like you wrestled a bear, and—” She suddenly freezes. Her eyes drop to your hand. To the massive wad of tissues you’re clutching. “…What the fuck are those for?”

You glance down at them like you’ve never seen paper products before. “…uh.”

Her head tilts. “Don’t you dare.”

“…Cleaning?”

Her face contorts, horror dawning. “Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.” Her voice cracks into a shriek. “You didn’t! Tell me you didn’t! Rule number one — rule NUMBER ONE — no sex at my parents’ house!”

“Technically,” you say, shrugging like an asshole, “it was the patio. And remember: it's all your fault for bringing me here. You set the ambush, now deal with the consequences."

Her jaw drops. Her hands fling into her hair. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! The ambush was for you to talk! TALK. Like words. With your mouths. Not—” she waves her hands frantically—“whatever Pornhub-tier bullshit you pulled on my patio! This is not a P. Diddy party!”

You laugh. “We were discreet.”

She explodes. “DISCREET?! Look at your neck! That’s not discreet, that’s a fucking pepperoni pizza special! What are you, a middle schooler?!”

You smirk. “What can I say? Yujin’s talented.”

She lets out a strangled growl. “Don’t. Don’t even say her name right now. I cannot handle it. Did you at least—” she stops herself, groaning—“god, I don’t even want to ask this, but did you at least not… contaminate the lawn? My dad worships that grass. He trims it with scissors.”

You wave a hand, cool as hell. “Relax. Didn’t cum on the grass.”

Relief floods her face. Shoulders slump. “Thank god.”

“I came in Yujin’s mouth.”

“WHYYYY would you SAY that?! That is not information I need! That is a high-definition IMAX nightmare burned into my brain until the day I die! I can feel my childhood memories being overwritten with this bullshit!”

"Oh, you deserved it. I hope you'll stop being nosy and setting up ambushes now. Consider this a lesson."

She paces, muttering at full volume. “My patio chairs… the handmade wooden bench… they’re innocent… they didn’t deserve this… I hate you. I hate you.”

“C’mon, don’t be dramatic.”

She whirls on you, stabbing a finger into your chest. “Dramatic? Dramatic?! You two turned my patio into a fucking porno set! If this was MTV Cribs, you’d be pointing at the backyard going, ‘yeah, this is where the magic happens.’ I should be charging rent!”

You grin, backing away slowly, tissues still clutched like contraband. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna head back—”

“Yes, go!” she snaps, pointing down the hall like she’s banishing you. “Go to her. Make out. Hold hands. Write sonnets. Just STOP defiling my house like it’s a set for Love Island.”

You salute her. “Not making promises.”

She screams after you, voice cracking through the hall: “IF YOU FUCK ON MY POOL TABLE I’M CUTTING YOU OUT OF MY LIFE!”

You walk back out onto the patio. Yujin is leaning against the railing, her back to you, looking out at the dark lawn. She looks serene, peaceful, a stark contrast to the beautiful, screaming mess she was just a few minutes ago.

She must hear your footsteps, because she turns, a soft, tired smile on her face.

“Took you long enough,” she teases gently. “I was starting to think you’d run away again.”

“Never again,” you promise. You close the distance between you and hold out the tissues. “Here. For the, uh… clean-up.”

She takes them with a grateful nod. You take one yourself and gently cup her chin, tilting her face up. With a tenderness that feels foreign and yet perfectly natural, you carefully wipe away the last traces of your orgasm from the corner of her lips and her chin

When you’re done, she takes the used tissue and balls it up with her own. “So,” she begins. “What time is it, anyway?”

You pull out your phone, the bright screen temporarily blinding you. “Just hit midnight.”

“Midnight Cowgirl,” she muses with a soft chuckle. “Starring An Yujin.” She lets out a long sigh. “Well, I guess a new day, a new… whatever this is.”

“Yeah,” you agree, shoving your phone back in your pocket. “I, uh… I probably really have to go. I have that early shift tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding. There’s no disappointment in her expression, just an easy acceptance. “But before you go.” She takes a step closer. “You need to do something.”

“I do?”

“Mhm,” she confirms. “You need to officially ask me out. Because as of right now, you’re my boyfriend, and I’m your girlfriend. And I think that deserves a proper invitation, don’t you?”

You stare at her, completely dumbfounded for a second. Your girlfriend. She just says it so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay, yeah. An official invitation.”

You take a dramatic step back, clear your throat, and, in a moment of sheer, dorky impulse, you start to drop down onto one knee.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” she yelps, lunging forward and grabbing your arm to stop you. “Get up, you idiot! You’re not proposing!”

You let her pull you back to your feet, laughing. “Sorry. My brain isn’t exactly working at full capacity right now. I’m new to this.”

“Clearly,” she says, but she’s smiling, her dimples on full display. “Just… ask me like a normal person.”

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. You take both of her hands in yours. “Okay. Right. Normal.” You look into her eyes, and all the jokes and teasing just melt away. “An Yujin. Would you, uh… would you want to be my girlfriend? If you’re, you know, interested in that. Or something.”

“Or something? Real smooth.” She squeezes your hands. “Of course I will, you moron.”

And then she’s kissing you again. When she pulls away, you’re reluctant to let her go. “Do you… do you want a ride home?”

“No, it’s okay,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m gonna stay for a little while longer. Find Gaeul and apologize for, well, everything.” She smirks. “I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree.

“And try to get some rest,” she adds, her expression turning sincere.

You let out a short, sharp laugh. “Rest? Yujin, I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep for a week after tonight.”

Her only response is an excited, happy little giggle.

“Are you really okay, though?” she asks. “With all this?”

You nod, but a flicker of the old fear, the old insecurity, resurfaces. “Yeah. I am.” You look down at your hands, still holding hers. “I’m just… I’m going to try really, really hard not to mess this up. I don’t want to go wrong with you.”

She reaches up with her free hand and gently touches your cheek, making you look at her. “Hey. We’re going to be great,” she says. “And listen to me. If you ever feel scared or weird or anything, you just have to talk to me. The best friend part of us doesn’t just disappear because you’re my boyfriend now. That’s our foundation. Okay?”

“Okay,” you say. You lean in and kiss her one more time, pouring all the gratitude and relief and overwhelming love you feel into it. “I love you.” She smiles against your lips. You finally let go of her hands. “Okay. I’m really going this time.” You say your goodbyes and turn, taking a step toward the hallway, toward the real world.

You get about five feet before you feel it. That familiar, coarse weight snaking around your chest, cinching tight and pulling you to an abrupt halt. The rope.

You let out a long, theatrical sigh as she reels you back in. You turn to find her beaming, the coiled end of the lasso in her hand. She pulls you right up against her and then wraps her arms around you from behind, her chin resting on your shoulder. She leans around and steals one last, deep kiss.

You just murmur against her mouth. “You really liked that rope trick, huh?”

“It’s really fun,” she says, full of mischief. She finally unwinds the rope and lets you go.

“I hope you’re planning on retiring that thing after tonight,” you say.

She just shrugs, a wicked glint in her eyes as she starts coiling the rope with that practiced efficiency. “I don’t know. I’m already having some pretty creative ideas.” She pauses, her gaze flicking down your body and then back up to your eyes. “They mostly involve this rope, a bed, and you.”

“Okay… Well, In that case, I wouldn’t mind.”

You start backing away for real this time, not wanting to turn your back on her. “Goodnight, cowgirl.”

She leans against the doorframe, the coiled rope hanging from her hip, every inch the midnight hero of this story. “There goes my outlaw,” she calls out. “Running away with my heart.”

You just smile, your own heart so full you think it might burst.

“Why?” Yujin asked. “He’s kind of cute, but he didn’t seem like he’d be your type.”

“He’s not.”

“So then why do it?” Gaeul reasked the question.

“Because…because…I…” Wonyoung tried to think of an acceptable answer. She hadn’t meant to tell her friends that she had hooked up with the newest staff member working on their MV. Now she had painted herself in her corner, and she couldn’t think up a good lie, so Wonyoung did something crazy. She told her friends the truth. “Because I fucked his dad.”

Yujin and Gaeul froze in shock. They looked at her and then at each other before turning back to Wonyoung and both shouting “WHAT!?!”

“Quiet!” she snapped back at her two friends.

“No,” Yujin answered back. “You can’t tell us you had sex with Sungho’s dad and not expect us to react.”

“Seriously. Why? How?” Gaeul added.

“Okay, fine. Let’s go back to our dorm and I’ll tell you both everything.” The three of them picked up what was left of their lunches and retreated to their dorm. Wonyoung told them how she was out at a grocery store and ran into a guy she recognized from the set. They started talking as they shopped as they went to pay at the register he asked her if she wanted to get dinner at a place across the street. Wonyoung said he was handsome and she liked talking with him so she agreed. She enjoyed having dinner with him and the next thing she knew she had invited him to their dorm and she was pinned up against her bedroom wall making out with him. The two had sex all night long and she barely got an hour of sleep before she needed to head to set.

“When was this,” Yujin asked.

“Remember that early morning shoot like three day ago when you asked me if I was still drunk from the night before when you saw me?”

“Yeah,” Yujin answered.

“Well, turns out I was drunk. Cock drunk,” Wonyoung laughed.

“Wow,” Gaeul laughed at Wonyoung’s joke. “Um, wait you said you thought he was part of the staff member? Who is he?”

“He’s always on set, usually in jeans and a t-shirt or like a henley. Sometimes has a hat on. He’s got dark hair and like a scruffy beard.”

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about,” Gaeul said. “He’s Sungho’s dad? He looks like he’s almost my age.”

“Turns out he had Sungho when he was in high school.”

“Wait, so you knew he was Sungho’s dad when you had sex with him?” Yujin asked.

“No, I didn’t find that out until we were taking a break the next time.”

“Next time? So this happened more than once?” Yujin asked.

“Yes. We did it like 4 or 5 times. The sex was really, I mean really amazing. I wasn’t going to just do it the once.”

“So how did you go from having sex with his dad, to fucking Sungho?”

“I felt bad about hooking up with his dad, and I felt weird about our age difference. And then I began to think if maybe his dad has this big cock and is amazing at sex, maybe Sungho was too. So then, one day after filming I invited him back to our place and we did it.”

“How was it?” Yujin asked excitedly.

“Honestly?” Wonyoung said while trying to think about how honest she wanted to be. Finally, she said, “He has about 50% of the dick as his dad with maybe 25% of his skills.”

“Oh,” Yujin said disappointed.

“Don’t get it wrong, when I say 50% Sungho isn’t small or tiny. His dad’s just really hung.”

Wonyoung gave a few more details about her sex with Sungho and his dad. It was then time for the three of them to get back on set. As they worked the three idols checked out the 6’2” guy in jeans, a hat, and a scruffy beard standing off to the side of the set. As they looked over at him, both Gaeul and Yujin had to admit to themselves that he was a handsome guy in good shape. Neither could believe he was old enough to be someone’s dad.

It was a few days later while Yujin was at the craft services table looking for a snack when Gaeul moved up close to her and said, “Wonyoung was right about Sungho’s dad.”

“What?” Yujin said in shock. “You had sex with him?”

“No,” Gaeul said while looking around to see if anyone had overheard Yujin. “No, we didn’t have sex. Not yet anyway. But I did give him a blow job during lunch break today. And she was right. He’s hung and he cum in bucket loads.”

“Oh. So are you going to…”

“See if he is as good in bed as Wonyoung claims?” Gaeul finished Yujin’s question. “Yes. I invited him over tonight. Don’t tell Wonyoung.”

“My lips are sealed,” she told her friend.

The next morning Gaeul once again informed Yujin that Wonyoung was being accurate in everything she said. Telling her that if she had not stopped him they probably could have gone all night and that even though it had been hours since he was last inside of her, she could still practically feel his cock inside of her.

As Gaeul gushed about the details of her night, Yujin was starting to feel a ping of jealousy build in her. Yujin was used to being the hot one on the show. The one who internet perverts and men in real life tended to drool over.

It wasn’t until three days later that Yujin made her approach, seeing him standing alone, on his phone, standing beside the craft services table. She walked over to the tape and got herself a bottle of water, and then took several steps toward him.

“I heard a rumor that you’re Sungho’s dad,” she said as an icebreaker.

“You heard correctly,” he looked up to see her standing before him. “I’m Minho.”

“Yujin.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he said with a chuckle.

“So, I have to ask, how are you his dad? You look like his older brother.”

“I knocked up his mother the summer before my senior year of high school.”

“That’s young,” Yujin said as she began doing the math in her head of how old he was, and realized he must have only been around 36. “Was she your high school sweetheart or something?”

“Not exactly. More, like my best friend’s older sister.”

“Wow, that’s a twist. There has to be a story there.”

“There is,” Minho replied.

“I would love to hear it,” she told him. Minho hesitated for a little bit, and then the two walked over to a corner and he began telling her his story. How during the summer before high school, he had gone to his friend’s house after a party and after putting his drunk friend to bed he ended up watching TV with his friend’s sister who was home after her sophomore year of college. The two ended up hooking up on the couch that night.

Then a week later when his friend and his parents went on a road trip to tour colleges, Minho and his friend’s sister spent most of the week having sex. The result was her accidentally becoming pregnant with Sungho, and the two of them reluctantly got married after he graduated high school.

Yujin asked if he had married the first woman he had ever slept with. Minho corrected her and told her how he had lost his virginity the night of his school’s junior prom. Once they were married, they had remained faithful for a while, or at least so he thought.

The two were never a good match for one another, but they faked it for Sungho. The only exception was in the bedroom, in there was the one place where they got along. And since they were both so young and didn’t have the most experience outside of each other, they experimented and tried a lot of new things in the early years.

It was 10 years into the marriage that he found out that his wife had been having an affair with someone in her office. He had been having suspicions for a while, but he didn’t have it confirmed until he saw them kissing in a back hallway during a company party. Minho had been faithful since they got married up until that night.

When they got home, Minho volunteered to drive their babysitter back to her college dorm. In the car, he began to vent about his wife to the 18-year-old college girl, and then the next thing he knew he was parked on the top level of one of the campus garages with his babysitter in his lap, riding his cock. It was two whole days before he broke his wedding vows again, and a week before he broke them with another different woman. This time it was with his babysitter’s friend who sometimes filled in for her babysitting for him.

It was not long after that, while staying together for Sungho, they were just openly sleeping with other people. There was no animosity towards each other, they were just more like friendly roommates (who still occasionally fucked) trying to raise a kid. They did not get a divorce until two years later when his wife and her mom came home early from a spa day and found Minho having a threesome with the babysitter and her roommate.

After that, the cat was out of the bag and they saw no more reason to pretend. After the divorce, Minho would alternate spending weekends at his new place taking care of Sungho, and other weekends often sleeping over at a sorority house living out the college fantasies he never got to experience after high school.

“Sounds like you have a problem with college-age girls,” Yujin said after she had dug pretty deep into questions about Minho’s sexual past and found that many of his stories.

“I wouldn’t say I have a problem at all. If anything, I’d say I have a real talent for bedding women” he replied somewhat proudly.

“I meant more like you’re drawn to them.”

“I am sure a doctor would say that there is some deep-rooted reason with me feeling like I skipped over those years by having a kid and getting married, so now stuck perpetually making up for those lost years,” Minho said. He then leaned over toward Yujin and asked, “But you know what I think?”

“What’s that?” she asked intrigued by where this conversion was going.

“I think I am just a guy who likes sex and enjoy having sex with hot women.”

“Like Wonyoung and Gaeul?” Yujin asked, implying that she knew about their hookups for the first time.

“Yup, exactly,” he said, not missing a beat. He was not surprised at all that Yujin knew about him bedding her teammates. He was anticipating that she would.

“You know, most people think you’re on set to keep an eye on Sungho and to help him. I wonder what people would say if they knew you seem to be here to bed the idols,” Yujin said daringly.

“I can do both those things at the same time, I’m quite good at multitasking. Though maybe we should keep the second part of that to ourselves,” he told her. The tension and flirtatiousness between the two had been building for some time. It was not unexpected for Minho. One thing he had learned in all those nights at the sorority house was, if you wanted to hook up with the top girl in a women's friend group, the best strategy isn’t always to go right for her.

After a few days on set, Minho could see that Yujin walked around the set with a sense of entitlement and acted like she was the queen bee. He had not planned to sleep with Wonyoung that first night, but after getting with Wonyoung and then also Gaeul, he knew it was just a matter of time before Yujin started circling him. So, when she came up to him today, he was not surprised. What did surprise him was the next question that came out of her mouth.

“Have you ever done anal?” Yujin asked very frankly.

“What?” Minho asked, taken aback by her question.

“Have you ever had anal sex with a woman?”

“Yes, I have. A number of times. Why?”

“My boyfriend wants us to try it,” she told him. “We’ve done just about everything else, but neither of us has ever done that.”

Minho wasn’t sure if he truly believed her. Not about her and her boyfriend having never done it, but that Yujin was still an anal virgin. He’d always been pretty good about reading people and his gut told him that the idol had already done a wider variety of sexual things in her life. Still, he kept playing along. “And you’re nervous about trying in it.”

“What? No.” she retorted, “I just don’t want it to be bad. My experience has been if at least one person knows what they are doing, the sex is SO much better compared to when neither knows.”

“So…”

“So, I want you to teach me?”

“Anal?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to teach you how to have anal sex?” he asked once more for clarity.

“Yes.”

“I flattered, Yujin, I am. But I’m not sure how to teach something like that. In my experience, the best way to learn something like that is by doing it.”

“The same for me,” she said suggestively.

With that, Minho got the clarity he had been looking for. He pretended as though he was still contemplating what she was asking of him, but he already knew he was going to say yes. After a bit more back and forth, he thought he might see what else she might have to offer. “So, I do you this favor and teach you about anal so you can perform for your boyfriend. What do I get in return for doing you a favor?”

“You’re getting a night where you get to direct me around and have me do what you want, and you get to live knowing you took my anal cherry, and you want more?” Minho quickly back peddled and agreed to help the idol out by becoming her teacher. “Just one more thing,” she added.

“What’s that?”

“How do I know what Wonyoung and Gaeul have said about you is true? You could have put them up to it. Have them tell me stories.”

“To trick you into bed with me?” Minho asked.

“Something like that. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people have told me they’d do just to have me touch them.”

“So, you want proof?” he asked. Yujin looked him in the eye and shrugged, her eyes then darted down to his crotch and he saw the idol’s tongue quickly swipe across her lips. Minho looked down, and while he knew he was not fully hard, there was a definite bulge in his pants. Looking back up at Yujin, he told her, “I’m not going to pull it out right here right now, but I can get you some proof.

Minho reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped on his phone and asked Yujin for her phone number. He tapped on the screen a few more times, and then a message notification went off on Yujin’s phone. She took out her phone and opened the messages. Her eyes went wide as she looked at them. The first picture was looking down at the body of a naked man with a naked Gaeul sitting on his legs and a large naked cock sticking straight up and pressed against her stomach. The second picture was of an open-mouthed smiling Wonyoung, with her tongue sticking out. She looked to kneeling on the floor looking up at the camera. Next to her face appeared to be the same hard cock as the first photo. Her chin was down at his balls and the tip of his cock was up by her forehead.

“Proof enough?”

“It’ll do for now,” she told him. She then clicked around her phone and when she was done, Minho’s phone chimed with a new notification. “Just so we’re even,” she told him.

Minho checked his phone and he had received a picture. It was a bathroom mirror picture of a woman. Her head was cut off, but in one hand was her phone and the other hand covered her naked breasts. Moving down her body, she did not have anything else on, but she positioned herself so the countertop cut off right where her slit would begin. She was completely shaven.

The two agreed to meet later that night as Sungho was going to be filming some night scenes for another member. She agreed to come over to his place at 9 PM. After they left each other, both were pretty worked up. The flirtation had gone pretty high, and the photos they shared had both of them ready to tear at each other’s clothes. Minho considered texting Wonyoung or Gaeul to see if either wanted to meet for a quickie, but decided to save the load for later that night. Yujin on the other hand went back to her dorm and fingered herself to a big gushy orgasm. For the rest of the day, the two tried to be discreet as they checked out each other from across the room. When they wrapped on the day, Minho stopped by a store on his way home to pick up a few things for the night.

It was a little past nine at night when there was a knock on Minho’s door. He answers barefoot wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

“Hi, old man,” Yujin said with a seductive smile and then stepped into the house. Once she was in and he shut the door, she spun around, “Or should I call you a professor? Since you’re going to be teaching me tonight.”

“Just Minho is fine,” he told her.

“We’ll see about that.” Minho, not sure how comfortable she’d be with him taking her right to his bedroom, led her to the living room.

“You look pretty comfortable tonight,” he commented regarding her outfit. She had on a cotton belly shirt and matching cotton shorts under an oversized button-up shirt, long white socks, and white sneakers.

“I thought about dressing up, but then I figured I might as well wear something that comes off easily since I probably won’t have it on for long.”

“Just how easily does it come off,” he flirted.

“See you are a dirty old man.”

“I’m not that old.”

“Old enough to have a son about my age.”

“True, but I’m still young enough that I have a libido that rivals most teenagers,” he said as he took a seat on his couch right in front of Yujin.

“We’ll see about that,” she said as she stepped up to him and stood over his legs.

“Feel free to start testing out my claims whenever you want.”

“I would, but I’m here so you can teach me about anal. So, I think you’re supposed to tell me how the lesson is meant to begin.”

“In that case, lose the shirt and come here,” he said patting his lap. Yujin quickly threw off her button-down shirt and in one motion she got on the couch, straddled his lap, and pressed her lips against his. The two of them spent the next few minutes with their mouths locked together and their tongues intertwined. As they continued making out, Yujin began wiggling and moving around in his lap. He was getting ready to break off the kiss and ask her what she was doing until Yujin finally found the spot she was looking for. Instead of straddling his lap, she now straddled one of his legs, and her crotch was pressed right down on top of his hard cock encased in his pant leg. She was now grinding her crotch right against his hard shaft. Even through his pants and her shorts, he could still feel the heat radiating from between her legs.

“How many guys have you made cream their short,” Minho asked after a few more minutes of dry humping.

“A lady never tells,” she said with a blushing smile that let him know that the real answer is probably a decent amount.

“That's why you like guys with experience?”

“It’s nice being with someone with a little extra stamina and know won’t let a load go to waste in their pants.”

“Okay. Wanna know what else is nice?”

“What?”

“If you had taken off both your shirts earlier.” Yujin smiled and quickly pulled her tank top off, exposing he braless breasts. Minho sat back and took in the sight of her breasts, taking a series of mental pictures to memorize before wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her towards him. He then began kissing, licking, and sucking on her tits. Yujin was enjoying the attention being paid to her breasts, so much so that she didn’t realize he was pushing his hand into her shorts until she felt him push a finger into her.

“You seem to be enjoying this,” he said as he pulled his hand out from her shorts and showed off how wet his fingers were. She didn’t answer his question. She just took his hand into hers and brought it to her mouth so that she could suck his finger clean. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

“That sounds good,” Yujin told her. She got off his lap but she stood close enough that Minho could not stand up right away. She then pushed her shorts down and stood in front of him in only a pair of socks. It was only once she was naked that she then took a step back and gave Minho the room to stand up. His eyes immediately went to her glistening wet pussy that was totally devoid of any hair. “Lead the way,” she told him once he was on his feet.

He led her to the bedroom and Yujin immediately jumped onto the bed when they got in the room. She sat up on her knees with her legs spread apart. She then beckoned him over to join her on the bed.

“Not yet,” he told her. He pulled off his show and then he picked up a shopping bag off his dresser. “I picked up a few things for you on the way home.”

He handed her the bag, and she pulled the items out one by one. First was a box of condoms, then a bottle of lube, the next two items were packages of the morning-after pill, and the last item was a chrome buttplug with a heart-shaped red jewel at the end.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a toy that is made to go in your butt, then yes.”

“I thought we were going to have anal sex?”

“We are, but that is going to help stretch you out a bit.”

“Okay.”

“But first, we’re going to have to get your body to relax so I can put it in.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

“You’re going to layback and I am going to show you what it is like to have your pussy licked by a man who knows what he is doing.”

“You think you're better at eating pussy than most guys? That’s a bold statement.”

“I think you’re used to guys licking you just enough to advance things to get to sex. You’ve never had a guy eat you out simply because he wants to eat you out?”

“What’s the difference?”

“If you’d stop asking questions, you’ll have your answer within the next five minutes.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” Yujin said as she moved to lay on her back on the bed. Propping her head up with pillows so she could look down at her naked body. She watched as he got down between her legs, lifting each over his shoulders and wrapping his arm around her thighs. He gave her one last look and gave her a wink before diving between her legs. Yujin rolled her eyes in response. Five minutes later, Yujin’s eyes were rolling again, but this time they were rolling back while her leg was also up in the air twitching.

“OH MY, FUCK, YES!!” Yujin yelled out as her pussy spasmed. Minho happily licked up the juices from her squirting pussy as her juices soaked his face.

“Wow,” Yujin said as her orgasm subsided. “If that’s how they eat pussy, maybe I should only boof older guys from now on.”

“I can’t promise you all older guys are that good.” He let her take a few more breaths before asking her “Ready to go again?”

“Again? Really?” Yujin asked. The excitement in her voice was all he needed to hear. He didn’t even bother with an audible response. Instead, he just wrapped his lips around her clit and began to suck. Yujin was once again putty in his hands, which is exactly what he was hoping for. He wanted her relaxed and distracted. Her focus was on his tongue and lips, and while they worked her folds, his hands were busy popping the lid off of the lube bottle and smearing the gel all over the buttplug that was in his other hand. All the anticipation seemed to have played a factor in how quickly Yujin came that first time, as Minho was having to work handed this next round of oral to get her right where she wanted him. He even had to put the plug down to that he could use his fingers to rub her g-spot as his mouth worked her clit. When she began moaning that she was close and telling him not to stop, Minho grabbed her hips and lifted her so her ass and lower back were off the bed as he sat up and kept her hairless pussy up to his mouth. He kept eating her out and waited until once again she had another orgasm. He drank up her juices until he felt her body go mostly limp after climaxing. As soon as her body felt like it relaxed, he quickly pushed the buttplug into her. Yujin was taken so off guard that she didn’t react until her ass had been penetrated by the toy. She let out a gasp as she felt the toy invade her body.

“You fucker,” Yujin scolded him. “Give me a little warning.”

“If I did that, you would have gotten in your head and you would have clenched up.” That reasoning did make some sense. “You asked me to give you a lesson on anal,” He reminded the idol.

“True, but still,” she said as she reached back and rubbed her ass. Being careful when her fingers touched the end of the toy. Minho suggested that she take a look at it in the mirror. Yujin got off the bed and stood in front of a large full-length mirror. She turned her back to the mirror and bent over. She looked at the chrome toy protruding from her ass. She reached back and touched the toy, she then gave it a slight tug, and then twisted it around.

“How does it feel?” Minho asked as he admired Yujin admiring her own ass.

“Weird,” she told him.

“Weird as in good or bad?”

“I don’t know. Just weird.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Alright, well come back over here and just get used to the feeling. I’ll help you take your mind off of it while you adjust to it.” Yujin moved quickly to get back into the bed. She could not believe that a man was willing to go down on her three times in a row before even exposing his cock to her, but she was not complaining. Minho even would have done it a fourth time, he was enjoying himself so much making the idol’s body tremble in orgasm after orgasm, but when he attempted to go for it a fourth time she had to stop him. Her clit was too sensitive at the moment and could not take the feeling of getting touched again. With her too sensitive for him to orally please her, he decided it was finally time for him to remove his clothes. He got off the bed and stood at the foot of it.

“It’s about time,” Yujin said as she saw his hand move to undo the button on his jeans. She scurried around so that she lay on her stomach on the bed with her face by the end of the bed. She eagerly looked on as Minho continued removing his pants just a foot away from her face. Yujin’s eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a wide smile as she dropped his pants and his hard cock sprang free.

“Oh my,” she said as she reached out and touched his cock, “It’s even nicer than it looked in the pictures.” She rubbed her hands up and down his cock before taking hold of it. “You have a great-looking cock,” she told him.

“Thank you.”

“I knew you’d be bigger and thicker than my boyfriend, but I don’t know how but it’s also prettier than his.”

“You’re not the first to tell me that I have a pretty dick,” he told her confidently. “I am also told it tastes really good too,” he said as he while taking a step forward. Yujin looked up at him with a happy smile and licked her lips. When her eyes left his, they refocused on the cock in front of her and she moved forward with an open mouth. She took two inches into her mouth before closing her mouth tightly around it and then slowly dragged her lips back until only the tip remained in her mouth, giving it a hard suck. She worked her tongue around the tip for a bit, and then popped his cock free of her mouth. She then worked her tongue up and down the shaft, getting it nice and slick for her hands to later use when she pumped her shaft and her mouth worked the top half of his dick.

Minho appreciated Yujin’s oral work on his rigid member. While it felt good, it felt a little like she was holding back. She was working his cock with her mouth for her own enjoyment rather than wanting him to get off. He also noticed when she moved her one hand that was off of his shaft down her body and between her legs. Her mouth and tongue worked his manhood with a building urgency the longer she played with herself as she blew him. He was finally really starting to feel some pressure building in his balls when the idol’s still clad only in socks, pulled his dick from her mouth.

“I can’t wait, I need you inside me,” she announced as she spun around on the edge of the bed. “I’ll make it up to you later,” she said referring to giving him a blowjob, “I just can’t wait anymore.”

Minho hardly moved before Yujin had spun around with her pussy right at the edge of the bed. She even spread and lifted her legs in the air, her arms grabbing behind each knee to make sure they stayed up and spread. Minho thought about teasing her, rubbing his cock along her wet fold and bumping against her clit until the young idol was shaking in anticipation. However, she looked so good like that waiting for him that he could not control himself much either. So, he just stepped into position and pushed his cock forward He had a little resistance before Yujin hairless cunt finally split open for him and his cock began sliding in.

“Oh wow, that’s a fat cock,” Yujin moaned.

“Wait till you feel the full length.”

“Bring it old man,” she dared him. “Fuck me.”

Minho had watched her enough around set that on the outside Yujin had a sweet yet entitled personality, but he always knew that underneath it all was very sexual and thirsty girl. He was glad to see that that side of her was now on full display as he pushed his cock inside of her. While she was tight, she was also so wet that he did not have too much difficulty bottoming her cunt. He started off slowly, but Yujin let it be known that she wasn’t into that. He started thrusting harder and faster, which got her moans going louder. She let go of the back of her leg and instead move them up onto his shoulders and crossing her feet behind his neck. Her hands now went to her breasts and squeezed them as she continued to encourage Minho to hammer her with his cock.

“So good. You have such a good cock.”

“Better than your boyfriend’s?” He asked wanting to see if she would actually answer.

“So much better,” she answered.

“Better than whoever it is you are secretly fucking?” he didn’t know for certain that she actually was hooking up with anyone else, but based his interactions with her today he felt pretty good about it.

“Yes. Fuck. From now on you’re my go-to dick.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said as he picked up the tempo of their fucking even more.

“We’ll see. I am going to drain you old man,” she told him. At first Minho really despised her calling him and old man. He wasn’t even that old. Though as she kept calling him it as they did more and more sexual things, he was starting to get into her calling him that.

Based on how desperate she was for him to stick his dick inside of her, Minho had no doubt that she would orgasm before he would. And was proven correct. Yujin grabbed hold of the mattress as she squirted and her legs trembled. As she climaxed, Minho slowed down to long slow strokes inside of her, but it felt so good to have sex with the starlette that his body refused to let him stop moving completely.

“Let me get on top,” Yujin finally told him as she came out of her post orgasmic fog. Minho pulled out and got on the bed. He had barely had his ass hit the mattress before Yujin was climbing on top of him. “So big,” she moaned as she sank down on his hard dick.

As she began riding his dick, Minho reached up and started playing with her bouncing beasts. While still perky, they did have a considerable amount of shake to them as she bounced on his cock. After a few minutes Yujin leaned forward, so she and Minho were face-to-face and her tits were pressed against his chest. She gave him a kiss as she continued to rotate and grind her hips along his cock.

“It’s a shame you wasted so much time. First by not making any move and then spending weeks with Wonyoung and Gaeul instead of me,” she told him between kisses

“Jealous?” he asked.

“No, I’m mad.”

“Mad?”

“Yes mad. You’ve been walking around set with your great cock for months, and then when you finally do you it you waste it on them?”

“I wouldn’t saying wasting it,”

“We could have been having phenomenal sex for months now if I knew what you were hiding in your pants. And just admit it, I’m better in bed then them,” she spoke to him while looking directly into his eyes.

“I admit nothing,” he responded playfully.

“We’ll see about that,” she told him before giving him a deep passionate kiss. After the kiss she sat up and took her ability at riding his cock up another level. In his head he did admit that she was better than her friends, but seeing how competitive she was being about it, that was something he would never confess audibly to her.

“Get on all fours, I want to see that ass of yours before I wreck it,” Minho told her after a some more time with her on top had passed.

“Promises, promises,” Yujin mused as she dismounted his cock and got into position. She got on her hand and knees and he moved behind her. He gave her full ass a slap before grabbing her hips and trusted back into her. Pulling her cheeks apart, he could see the toy he had lodged inside of her. As he did her from behind, her took the end of her plug and twirled it around inside of her ass. While it felt a little strange having the toy in her ass be moved around, she did not mind the feeling at all, though that feeling didn’t compare to the feeling of Minho’s dick working her pussy. While he was doing her from behind, he was angling his thrust at a slightly downward motion causing his cock to brush against her g-spot with each thrust. The two of them kept going for as long as they could. They were near the end and it was a race to see who would finish first. Yujin ends up having her climax first but between the feeling of her pussy walls contracting and the sounds of her loud moans was enough to make Minho right at the brink.

Minho let go, a small grunt escaped his lips as his cock began erupting into the teenage idol. Yujin moaned as she felt him shoot his cum inside of hers. He did not put his whole load in her, he pulled out about halfway through and shot the remaining cum her had around her ass.

“Why did you pull out?” Yujin asked with disappointment in her voice when he finished.

“I had my reason. Why? Are you disappointed?”

“Yes. I wanted you to fill me to the point that your cum is overflowing out of me,” she told him. As she did, Minho could see her moving her hand down her body and begin rubbing her freshly fucked pussy.

“Maybe next time,” he told her. He then reached for the present he bought Yujin, and without warning he extracted it from her ass. He then began to use the buttplug to wipe the cum he had strayed onto her ass and began wiping it around her hole.

“Is it the time?”

“It seems like a good a time as any.”

Yujin was filled with nervous and excitement. Minho had her get the condoms and lube. Yujin then bent down and gave a few long hard sucks on his cock, making sure he was fully hard before putting on the condom, using both hands to roll the latex down his full length. Minho then had her to apply a generous amount of lube to his condom-encased manhood. He had her get at on all fours and had her look straight forward at a full-length mirror across from the bed. When she was in position he squirted some lube onto the entrance of her back door. He then used his cock head to smear the lube around. She was a little jumpy when she felt the tip of his cock brush against her back entrance.

“Just relax he told her,” and he reached under her and began fingering her. He watched as she closed her eyes and moaned. “Just concentrate on my fingers,” he told her. She was doing just that and he could feel her getting wetter. Once he could tell she was relaxed and not paying attention her gave a quick thrust, moving before she could react.

Yujin let out a squeal, surprised that her ass had just been invaded by the tip of Minho’s cock. Her ass immediately tightened around the head of his dick. He got her to relax and slowly pushed more of cock into her.

“Fuck you’re big,” she moaned.

“Just relax and it will start to feel good soon.”

“Easy for you to say, you not the one being split in half by a massive cock.” It took a little bit of time for Minho to get his full length into the Idol’s ass, but Yujin refused to quit until she had the full thing wedged inside of her. Once it was fully in, he let her sit with it inside her, letting her adjust to the feeling for a minute. He then began making small slow thrusts. Minho watched her face through the mirror, he saw how slowly the grimace on her face began to dissipate until finally, he heard a pleasurable moan.

“It starting to feel good?”

“Yes,” She answered, “Ohh, I like it.”

“You ready to take it up a notch?”

“Give me everything you got, old man,” she dared him. He didn’t think she knew what she was asking for, so while he started making longer faster strokes he was still holding back. It did not take long for Yujin to figure out that he was holding back. “Come on, harder.”

“You sure about that?”

“Either give me a real fucking or I’ll find someone else who can,” she told him as she looked him in the eyes through the mirror. With that, Minho slowly up to his tip and then slammed his full length into her ass. Yujin’s legs kicked up and her mouth went wide but no sound came out. From that moment on he gave it to her like an anal veteran and to her credit and to Minho’s surprise Yujin took it like a champ. Even when he gave her a few spanks, those were only met with grunts and moans of pleasure. With the way she moaned and the way her eyes appeared to roll back, Minho thought Yujin might have even had a small orgasm.

“OH GOD GIVE IT TO ME!” Yujin cried out.

“Yeah, you like my cock in your ass? You like having your ass fucked?”

“YES! So good! Soooo much better than I thought!” Yujin said as she dropped down to her elbows and began thrusting her ass back into my dick. She then asked, “Have you done this with Wonyoung or Gaeul?”

“Not yet,” he told her truthfully.

“Don’t bother, those batches can’t take it like I can. If you want an ass on set just come find me,” she told him.

“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” he commented.

“If I’m wrong, then tell me,” she told him. He didn’t say anything, he only gave her ass another smack in response. “That’s what I thought.”

Minho told her that he wanted to show her another position before he finished. They both let out their own groans of disappointment as he pulled off his cock from her ass. He then got off the bed and told her to roll over onto her back. Once she had done that, he grabbed one of her ankles and pulled her over to the edge of the bed. He pulled her so far that the majority of her ass was mostly hanging over the edge. Still, with her ankle in his hand, he lifted her leg up and held it out to the side. He then took his cock in and buried it back into Yujin’s ass, much to her delight. Using his other hand, he took her other leg and lifted it and spread it wide. Yujin was now on her back with her legs raised and spread eagle on the bed. Her body was on full display for Minho as he slammed his hips into her repeatedly. After a little bit, Yujin’s hand moved down her body and she began playing with her pussy as she got her ass fucked.

“This is amazing,” the idol loudly moaned.

“Starting to feel good now?”

“Yes!”

“Tell me what do you like better, having something in your ass, or do you just like my dick that much?” Minho said with brazen arrogance.

“Fuck, I can’t tell,” Yujin said as she fingered pussy.

“I guess we’ll find out after you show your boyfriend what you’ve learned,” he said. “Though I’m not sure he’ll believe you when you tell him he’s your first.”

“Why’s that? You plan on stretching me out that much?” Yujin flirted right back at the older man she had inside her ass.

“Put it this way, you might let him use it from time to time, but your…ass…will…forever…belong..to...me,” he informed her, slamming her hard on each of his last seven words.

“Yeah, old man? Is that…is that…ooooooohhhhhhh wowww,” the Damsel actress had her own words interrupted by her body as she climaxed once again. Soaking her hand as she stopped playing with herself. Minho smiled at the fact that the 20-year-old came with a thick cock buried in her ass. As he continued to work his mind was brought back to a moment where Yujin was having a bit of a diva moment on set, and he overheard one of the staff quietly say to other “How big is the stick up that girl’s ass, do you think?” If only those two could see her down.

He did end up letting go of her legs, which Yujin put one up on his shoulder and the other she wrapped behind his ass. He then bent down to kiss the idol, before moving his now free hands to her breast to play with. As they kept going, he thought about seeing if she wanted to try anal cowgirl, but he didn’t have a ton left in him and thought he’d hold off on that until the next round.

“Almost there,” Minho groaned as he continued to pummel her ass. He could feel the cum beginning to bubble up from his ass. It was only a matter of time now.

“Oh, yes. Then give it to me,” Yujin moaned.

“Yeah? You want it?”

“Yes give it to me.”

“Oh, I’ll give it to you,” he told her. Minho then pulled his cock out from her idol’s backdoor, yanked off the condom, and dove his full cock back into her wanting pussy. He then stopped holding back and injected her with his sizable load. It was unclear if it was him stuffing her pussy with his dick or the feeling of him filling her with his jizz that made Yujin orgasm once again, but regardless she let out an orgasmic cry and the body shock as he shot blast after blast of cum inside of her. He did not pull out until his cock had deflated a bit.

“You came inside me,” she said as she rubbed the reddened cunt. Pulling her hand away she saw her fingers were sticky with his cum on them. “You came a lot inside of me.”

“That is what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I did. I love that feeling when a guy does it. Ugghh, wow, and you came so much,” she said as she felt his cum leaking out of her.

“If you liked it that much, I’d happily do it a few more times tonight.”

“I’m sure you would you dirty old man,” Yujin said cheekily. She then asked, “What time is it?”

“A little after one,” he informed her.

“I need to get going.”

“Really? Tapping out already?”

“I should, but tonight was amazing. I can’t believe I took your whole cock in my ass. Hajoon’s going to be in for a surprise later this week.”

“Happy to help,” he said, “and if you need a refresher course before he arrives just let me know. I’d love to be of assistance.”

“How selfless of you,” the idol said sarcastically. “Do you mind if I shower before heading home?”

“Only if I can assist.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Yujin said as she got up from the bed. “Just no sex, or else I might never leave.”

“As far as deterrents go, that’s not much of one,” Minho joked as he led Yujin to his bathroom. He turned on the shower and as Yujin tried pushing some of the cum out off her pussy, Minho went back into the bedroom for a moment and then went back into the bathroom and joined the idol in the shower. He grabbed his loofa, poured some body wash on it, and began washing Yujin. Starting with her shoulders he then moved down and began washing as well as just flat-out playing with her breasts, before taking a knee and washing her legs. He then handed the loofa over to Yujin and she washed him. First his back, then his chest, and then down to between his legs. At one point she stopped pretending with the loofah and just used both her hands to stroke his cock.

“So big,” she said softly with her eyes fixated on his erection. She then looked up at him in the eyes, and told him, “Your cock is truly lovely to look at.”

“Thank you. Your body is quite the sight to behold as well.”

He then told her to turn around. He stepped out of the shower for a moment, before getting back in behind her and taking the loofah, and reapplying more soap to it. He made no effort to keep his erection away from her. Instead, he intently pushed it against her as he reached around her body. He then began to wash her back, eventually moving down to her ass.

“Put your hands against the wall and bend over,” he told her. Yujin looked back at him and gave him a look. He reassured her, “I’m not going to fuck you, I promise.”

He then proceeded to wash her ass in-depth, reaching under her and washing her pussy. He spread her cheeks and dripped some body wash from the bottle down onto her rectum.

“I will tell you, if you really do want to make sure you are ready to surprise your boyfriend, you really should keep wearing this,” he said. He then picked up the buttplug he had snuck into the shower and pressed it against her ass. Yujin gasped as she felt it enter her. It did fit inside her much easier now than it did the first time he put it inside of her. She also enjoyed the feeling of having it inside of her much more. With the plug in and her still bent over, Minho reached under her ass and stuck two fingers and her tight warm cunt. As he fingered her, she leaned over her and said into her ear. “I promised I wouldn’t stick my cock in you, but didn’t say anything about my fingers.”

“So true,” Yujin said before turning her face and kissing him. “Finger my pussy, old man.”

“You like older guys don’t you?” he questioned her.

“Not especially, I just like guys who know what they're doing,” she confessed.

“Well, I do know a trick or two.”

“Yes, you do.” Minho then spun Yujin around so they were facing each other and the two made out while he finger-blasted her against the glass of the shower stall. He hooked his fingers and rubbed her g-spot while his palm brushed against her clit. Yujin also made use of her hands, reaching down and stroking his cock. The two were in a race to see who could use their hands to get the other off the fastest. Minho had a head start so he was able to get Yujin to cream all over his hand first. After her orgasm subsided, she pushed Minho backward, giving her the room to comfortably sink to her knees on the shower floor.

“I bet you’re just like every other guy out there and want to climax all over my face,” she said to him as she began using both hands to stroke his cock.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then do it,” she told him. She looked up and maintained eye contact with him as she frantically jerked him off. Her eyes never left his as she worked his cock. Even when he said he was about to cum, she aimed his cock head directly at her face and kept her eyes open until she felt his first blast hit her on the mouth and nose. As he kept cumming, she could not help but smile as she felt it rain down her face. When she finally stopped feeling his cum, she opened one eye and then moved in and sucked the tip clean of any remaining cum. Minho just stood there and admired the pretty actress's face as it was covered in his spunk.

“How do I look?”

“All those guys who said wished they could give you a facial don’t know what they are missing out on. It’s quite a beautiful sight.” Yujin smiled broadly at his compliment. She licked off some of the cum that had landed on her mouth, and let him admire her face for a little while before she cleaned her face off under the spray of the shower. They each give themselves one last rinse off before turning off the water. Getting out of the shower they toweled off and wrapped themselves up. He kept an eye on her as she dried off and noticed that the idol never made a move to remove the plug in her ass. He then moved back to the bedroom with Yujin following a minute or so later.

“Are you sure you need to leave,” Minho asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed with her throbbing erection at full mass between his legs. Yujin looked down at his hard-on and instinctively licked her lips as she looked at it.

“The girls were right, that thing doesn’t quit, does it?” she said referring to his cock.

“You complaining about that?”

“Hardly. But, I do need to go. I need to get some rest before filming tomorrow,” she said. But then she undid her towel and let it fall to the floor. “But I suppose it would be cruel of me to walk out on you in that state.

Yujin then dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth. She began sucking on her tip and then brought her lips down along the side. “So, tell me,” she asked between slurps “Do you feel bad about sleeping with girls my age? Especially since Wonyoung and me are closer to your son age than yours.”

“I’m fine with it. I felt a little bad when I slept with his prom date during his graduation party.” He admitted. Yujin nearly choked on his cock in surprise when that happened.

“You what?” she asked.

“You heard right.”

“There must be a story there,” Yujin said as she stroked his cock.

“Her older sister was one of his former babysitters, one of the ones I frequently hooked up with, and the older sister told the younger sister about our adventures. So, the younger sister asked my son to prom, and after a disappointing prom night, she cornered me during his graduation party a few weeks later and demanded I give her what her sister had bragged to her about so many times before. So I did. And then I did again a few more times before we moved out to LA.”

“You are so bad,” Yujin said to him, and before bringing her lips back to his cock she added, “and I don’t believe you feel bad about doing her at all.”

“I did feel a little bad afterward doing that behind his back. But the sex itself did feel pretty good in the moment,” he admitted.

“Better than me?” She asked.

“You can’t let anyone win, can you?”

“Nope,” she said before sinking several inches of dick into her mouth. He let the actress suck his cock uninterrupted for several minutes before he spoke up again.

“Let me ask you, do you feel bad about cheating on your boyfriend with me?”

“This wasn’t cheating,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What we did tonight wasn’t cheating?” he questioned her.

“Nope. You were teaching me about anal so I could do it with my boyfriend this week. This was a learning exercise.”

“Okay, sure,” Minho could not help but chuckle at her reasoning.

“When we fuck again next weekend, that will be cheating.”

“Next week?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend leaves on Friday. My manager mentioned how he was leaving Thursday night to go visit his mom, so that means we have a few days where no one is going to be looking for us and checking in on us. So, what better way to spend it than in bed having an obscene about of sex?”

“Are you sure you can handle all that?” he asked her with cocky confidence. “I mean were stopping after only two rounds tonight.”

“That’s because tonight I was just testing you. Seeing if you lived up to the hype. You obviously passed,” she said and then stuck out her tongue and slapped his cock against it. “Next weekend I’ll show you what I can do. After next weekend you’ll be saying I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

“Oh really? So you’ve been holding back this entire time?”

“Yes. Probably 50% effort,” she told him.

“Yeah right, I highly doubt that.” Yujin simply smiled in response and then suddenly she took a majority of his cock into her mouth and did so with a casualty that showed she had been holding back a bit. She deepthroated him for a minute before pulling back and leaving just an inch or so in her mouth. She continued to work his cock, but now the way she moved her hands along his shaft and the way her tongue worked the underside of his dick showed that she had been holding back and she was much more skilled than she had previously shown. She was also now not stopping to talk or make any chit-chat. She was showing a determination to show the older man that the she was better than other more experienced women he had been with. It only took a few minutes until he blew his load down her mouth, and despite the amount, she was able to swallow it all.

“See, and that was just the tip of the iceberg,” Yujin bragged as she stood up and began picking up her discarded clothing. “If I were you, I would take it easy this week. You’re going to need all the energy you can store for next weekend.”

“Sounds good,” he said as he watched her naked body walk around the room. “I’ll see you next weekend,”

With her clothes tucked under her arm, Yujin said “See you around the set tomorrow,” before blowing him a kiss and strutting naked out of his bedroom.

It was two days later that Minho would see Yujin walking with her boyfriend, Hajoon, around the set. Yujin blushed a little when she caught eyes with Minho from across the room. When Minho saw Hajoon walk away, he quietly maneuvered himself around the stage until he was standing next to Yujin.

“So, have you given your boyfriend his gift yet?” Minho quietly asked discreetly.

“I was planning on giving it to him tonight,” Yujin quietly replied with a smile.

“Does that mean, you’re wearing that thing I gave you?”

“Why do you think I haven’t sat down?”

“How does it feel?”

“Good. Though I may need to upgrade to something bigger,” she told him and gave him the biggest devilish smile he’d ever seen before she walked away.

The next morning when he woke up, he texted Yujin asking how things went last night. He did not get an answer right away. It wasn’t until about an hour later that got a reply. She messaged him saying it went well. That was followed up by a close-up mirror photo, with the message saying he could not get enough of it.

The photo was of Yujin’s ass with her cheeks spread apart and some cum trickling out of it. He then asked her if the photo was from last night or if she didn’t reply to his text right away so that her boyfriend could fill her and she could then send him a photo. She replied asking him if he really thought she’d have morning sex with her boyfriend specifically so she could send a teasing picture afterward. As soon as she said that, he knew that is exactly what she did.

Minho got some disappointing news later in the week when Yujin had to cancel their weekend plans. Her boyfriend had surprised her with plans for a weekend getaway trip. She told him she’d make it up to him, and then send a dozen nude pictures of herself, some full body and others close up, to ‘hold him over’ while she was gone. Thought that rain check was probably not going to happen when on Monday morning Yujin put out an Instagram post announcing that she was engaged. Minho congratulated her the next time he saw her on set and jokingly whispered, “I didn’t know he loved you giving him anal that much.” Yujin laughed at that.

He assumed that was it. He thought Yujin was off the board for him. And while he still enjoyed Wonyoung and Gaeul, he was a little disappointed he only got the one crack at the idol. That disappointment went away the Friday after the announcement of her engagement. Sungho had left to go out with several other staff for the night shooting, leaving Minho home alone. Not 15 minutes after Sungho left there was a knock on the door. Minho opened the door and was surprised to find Yujin standing there.

“Hi, old man.”

“Yujin, what are you doing here?” He asked with surprise.

“I told you I was going to make it up to you.”

“I thought that that went out the window when you accepted that ring.” He said looking down at the rock on the idol’s finger.

“I made a promise to Hajoon when I said yes to him, but technically I did make a promise to you first. And I always keep my promises.”

Once she said that Minho stepped aside and let Yujin into the house. “What was that promise again?” he asked playing dumb.

“I believe it was that I was going to show you that I’m the best in bed you’ve ever had.”

“What about Sungho? What happens when he comes home and finds you here?”

“I’ve taken care of that. Wonyoung owed me.”

“I believe you promised me an entire weekend of demonstrating your talents.”

It’s always a trip, that’s how it usually flows around here: a turn to the left, round the front desk of the floor, hook right down the insanely long walkway, glass windows giving you this nice view of the city skyline. Pretty, at around one in the morning of another late night of work stacked upon your desk. 

Easy enough to also: take a moment to admire the view, since it’s the kind of view that you’d never get over no matter how many times you look at it. You sigh at the playback in your head, something that Chaeyeon talked to you about while hiding away from the pressures of work in her own office, bumping coffee mugs and wishing that the building had sliding windows to let the high breeze through. 

They would never allow that. You tell her, keeping the vibe lighthearted with a laugh. I mean seriously, even if we did, it’s all fun and games until someone in one of the conference rooms below us sees a body hurling down towards the ground at a hundred miles per hour. Chaeyeon complains that the air conditioning doesn’t even reach her office sometimes, and tells you that she’s jealous, wanting to switch places with you since the sun hits her back during the work hours. 

Sweeping past her office, since she’s gone for the day, the carpet gets pressed down by your loafers, tilting your head to see that the office at the very end of the walkway has the lights on, and you do notice the gap where the door should be; meaning that it’s open or someone stepped inside. 

This was the end point of this overbearing yet brief journey. The office that was considered to be base camp, the command center, the brains, one would say. One of the firm’s most well known figures with how she leans back into her chair with a leg across the other, showing that she means business, and knows how to look good while doing it. 

Prior, you loop around the pane entering the room- 

“You’re saying that I should sit back and do nothing?” Minju asks, finger tapping the peak of her nose, clearly pressed. 

“I’m not telling you to,” the woman standing across her with a left hand fastened to the hip with a lean to her right side, “We’re backed into a corner and all I’m saying is that we have to draw back and take this at a new angle.” 

“But you said that last time! And look where it’s got us.” Minju shoots back, both feet on the floor now, drawing herself closer to make a point. You’re trying to not make your presence known, seeing where this exchange is headed, fighting the urge to not butt in and make a fool of yourself. “Cutting a deal with the very same person that is trying to come back and rip everything from us was all part of your plan?” 

“Minju, I know you’re angry but–” 

Minju slaps her hand down on the desk, “We’ve got them right where we wanted, pulled all the stops, and now you want to just back off?” 

“I’m not backing off, I’ve managed to buy us more time.” the woman says, pressing on the rim of her glasses, sighing when Minju doesn’t even bother to look back at her in the eye, flipping through a packet with a pen in her hand to check and see if there was anything that was usable to help the situation. You’ve seen the packet on her desk earlier that way, ran that by Hyewon, her secretary, and now she’s finally looking at it. 

“Two days. That’s all I got until we fall back with the judge.” she says to Minju, “Unless you have something for me on my desk later today, I’m officially and unofficially grounding you.” 

“Dahyun-” 

“Zip it.” Dahyun says, mimicking a pulling motion with her right hand to her lip, “You’re already stretched thin as it is, this case is already taking a toll on all of us and this would be the last thing I need on my mind.” 

A tap to the glass on the entryway, “Is this a bad time?” 

The two women look at you in suspicion, both of them not even realizing that the door was open the entire time, listening to the conversation, “How long have you been standing there?” Dahyun asks, pointing at you while you’re leaned against the glass, foot pointed to the floor all relaxed and everything. 

“I’ve been here long enough, but a little over five minutes.” you answer, blue folder in hand. “Didn’t want to interrupt the usual bickering on a casual Thursday evening.” you also add, stepping inside Minju’s office where it opens up.  

The great Kim Minju, one of the firm’s best lawyers, and Dahyun’s right hand woman, one of the key people sitting at the high table; also your handler of these different cases and adventures that she usually sends you to do or help her with. Her office was classy, a row shelves off to the right side filled with an assortment of vinyls and picture frames of the people that she holds most dear to her heart. A record player was next to this trolley that had a kettle and a bowl of candies (though she doesn’t like to admit that she’s got a sweet tooth); there’s also her violet couch in velvet that you’ve also passed out on multiple times, drunk on the sweet scent that you still have to figure out which one she uses for that. 

“This is the last file for the case I managed to scrounge and put together.” you tell Minju, sliding it over across while her inky eyes dart at you, prompting a questioning eyebrow out of both of you while Dahyun’s gaze falls on top. “Everything in terms of deals within the last year from our target man should be all in there. Though, we had a minor hiccup earlier this week with–” 

“Don’t remind me,” Minju vexes, “That was my screwup with the family and now I’m paying for it.” 

“After I told you not to jump the gun.” Dahyun jumps in, hand on the corner of the granite. She sounds annoyed; after all, she was technically the ‘fall guy’ in all of this with her hiccup also in mishandling the exchanged information, not her fuck up though, since she was set up from the beginning after a hidden clause she signed a long time ago. She also swoops in to grab the file, opening it to skim through the papers, slightly nodding at what she could read for a few seconds. “Impressive,” Dahyun nods, “this is good leverage.” 

“Thank you,” you say, smirking while Dahyun hands you back the file for Minju to look at, pulling it out of your fingers to flip through. “Had some help from Hyewon, but didn’t want to take all of the credit.” 

“Well I appreciate you both.” Dahyun adds, “I had my doubts when I got the call to come back and see what all the fuss was about. Now, I can breathe a little more easily knowing that we have this in the bag, I hope.” 

“I’m still here, you know.” Minju huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Hush,” Dahyun scrunches funnily, taps your shoulder, causing you to shrug nonchalantly, “Thank you for hanging back to help me take care of this while I’ve been dealing with my moving situation. God, it's been a back breaker for me.” 

“How’d that go?” 

“We finally settled in, I had a small housewarming party about a few weeks ago or so, but I’ve been keeping in touch with–” 

“You said that your friend Sana was living in the area too, right? From college?” Minju suddenly asks, pen flat on the paper and fully invested in the life update. Dahyun nods to this while you’re pursing your lips at the news. You’re not one to lend an ear to these things, but you just can’t help yourself when they’re being talked about in the open. Talk about separating privacy and professionalism. 

“Yeah, it’s been good to see her, if it wasn’t for this fucking cas–” 

“Dahyun, it’s fine. We got it.” you tell her, slowly nodding to ease the stress, “You’re already doing so much by coming back from leave to deal this along with us. It shows that you do care about this firm and the reputation that it has.” 

“Look at you being a kiss ass.” Minju deadpans. You pay no attention to that. 

“And not taking this ordeal would've put the firm into crisis mode having the last thing I’d want to happen.” Dahyun scoffs, “Besides, the value is way more than that once all of this is over.” She starts to make her way out of Minju’s office, turning around to face both of you with eye contact, “I assume that you two will close up shop when you’re done?” 

“Don’t even need to remind us.” you tell her, Minju looks up with a soft smile across her face, lightly waving at Dahyun before she gives you two a quick goodbye, leaving shortly after. “She seemed a little more dismissive than usual, like she wanted to give us alone time don’t you think?” 

“I can’t stand her nosy ass sometimes, trying to veer the way how I want to do things.” 

“Ouch.” 

“I’m serious,” Minju shoots back, flipping through the packet, not giving an ounce of care through all of the blacked lines or different clauses in the suggested proposal that would settle this whole case. “I love Dahyun - I mean - she has the spare set of keys to my damn apartment since she moved away, that’s how much she means to me.” 

“Didn’t think you’d be sappy over your boss, especially after the shit show that we’d–” 

“One more word out of your smart mouth and I’ll stop looking through your documents to stall time.” 

“You already signed it, though.” you say, pouting with a frown, “Which also means that this should all officially end by tomorrow.” 

Minju sweeps through the row of open and unopened files spread across her desk, eyes canvassing between the texts and dried ink of signatures, vying for some sort of leverage that would go against Dahyun’s wishes. It’s natural for her to be extremely nitpicky - highlighted with a small curtain of hair falling in front of her forehead, pulling the side of her index finger back while her pretty eyelashes flutter about. She’s refined and very sophisticated, the kind that makes you stop in your tracks one day when she waltzes in the office on her own time, and not that she’s thirty minutes late in the morning. 

Throw the law degree away bucko, maybe that avenue of studying art and architecture would’ve been the better option considering how much you’ve been staring for the past five minutes. 

To fill in, here’s the brief rundown of the position. 

A lot of people would’ve killed to be Minju’s associate. I mean, the woman seeps in ‘getting what she wants’. You could consider yourself lucky, but Minju already had eyes on you from the first second you stepped into her office for the interview. The interview itself wasn’t all that glamorous: renting one of your best friend’s designer suits that would’ve been more usable for a fucking award show spritzed with a cologne that was way out of your league in terms of scent let alone price, a typo on the fucking resume that she looks with an eyebrow for an explanation, and a lasting impression that whatever happens would deem only to be the best going forward. 

Minju wanted someone who excelled both in book and street smarts, be able to get a grasp on the situation faster within the first few seconds of receiving the case or news, and most importantly, to steer Minju’s level of thinking where even the most irrational decisions would be reasonable. 

You hit all the marks, and qualified to be associate. End of story. 

“Everything that we all have here is solid substantial evidence,” Minju cuts in with a paper flipped back to the top of the page, pen flat on her fingers as if she’s fed up with playing reviewing proctor, “Nothing would change with what we already have on the case.” 

“But the conclusion would be different,” you reply, sitting opposite to her, respectfully doing nothing but twiddling a pen between your fingers, considering that you were pretty much done with your bout in the file room earlier today, finding the last bits of documents from the archives that would help into comprising the settlement. “After all, it’ll be you and Dahyun in that conference room tomorrow closing the deal. I’m just passing papers.” 

“I suppose that you’re afraid of taking credit where it counts. Because why put in much effort for this case especially when someone else could’ve handled it when I asked?” 

“Dahyun insisted on coming back to oversee this. Had it been anyone else, the firm would’ve been up in flames if it wasn’t for her quick thinking pulling up the memos and signing payments from all those years ago.” 

Minju closes your blue folder, sliding it off to the side, flipping open her laptop without a flinch before typing away. “You know,” she starts, giving you this quick gaze that has you nicking your head a few millimeters, catching the pen in between your fingers to highlight that she has your attention, “I could’ve done this myself with Hyewon’s help, give you at least some days off after working you down the bone.”

“Now why would you do that?” you ask, four fingertips on the back of Minju’s laptop, closing it slowly while you’re rounding the fine corner of her obsidian desk, thumb wrapping underneath when her chair meets square with your hips. “That’s not very work-efficient for you to do that to me now, is it?” 

“You want to lecture me on how I should make you operate?” 

“She knows about us…by the way.” you tell Minju straightforward, smirking when you see that high arch of her brow, grimacing at the faulty accusation that she already knows by way of presentation. Doesn’t take long also for the different neurons firing in her brain that’s filled to the brim by the way of the law - only for that to be completely flattened out in one of those lobes replaced with various details of what you’re talking about.

“What are you talking about?” Minju asks, tilting her head upward that makes the sight of the high ground utterly so familiar. 

“Dahyun can easily tell that we have something going on,” you remind her, “She can easily read the both of us like a children’s book and–” 

“Bullshit,” her face crinkling with a tone more deaf the the simple drone of a dead phone line, “You know damn well that there’s nothing happening between us, so stop with the conviction.”  

“I’m not saying that you’re being convicted of my point,” you start, pushing her chair away to leave you space when you’re leaning over, seeing her back hit the cushion of the chair where she wiggles more comfortably with both hands on the armrests, “if anything, you’re just simply denying that there was ever really a thing between you and I.” 

“And that should be the end of that, no?” Minju coos, tipping her head a little bit higher, “Can you concur that there is nothing happening between us, especially in the workplace?” 

Minju is a professional, on par with the same archetypes like Dahyun. She’s witty, calculated, knows a lot more things from her experience compared to you, and blowhards herself way too much for anyone’s own liking. Every argument with her always starts with her leading the charge, to make you feel smaller right off the bat so that you’d have no way to counter unless your point seems fit to her points of focus. 

Okay, it may not be every verbal exchange with her on a day to day basis, considering that it’s also filled with witty banter and small inside jokes that could totally fall within the implications of the term ‘flirting’, but nothing ever really escalated from that. 

You also stuck your ears in between conversations during various corporate events and coworker mixers. Hell, even the pool of associates away from the main quarters of partners and senior partners all gave you the necessary praise for the chemistry that you’ve developed with Minju. Some days she wants to have your head on a platter, other days the talks were good, and you two managed to get things done around the office. 

Except for one day, and the details are still a bit murky for you to put up in recording: another workday in the office, maybe a little slow for Wednesday transition from morning to an afternoon -  but a free flowing circulation of phone calls, fax reports, conference appointments with clients, and a running order of Hyewon’s go-to latte from the coffee shop on the first floor. 

Bouncing back and forth between Dahyun’s office and Yuri’s, you make a quick detour towards Minju’s office who happened to slot herself on the left side of you while matching your walking pace. Expecting a quick quip from her like any other morning, you were waiting for it, but she hits you with the ‘file room, now.’ order that has you in-tow right behind her on the way there. 

Though your mind was already in overtime mode with the workload that was dropped to your desk roughly about two hours since arriving, it had already been nonstop and maybe Minju’s time could be quick if it was related to saving the firm from being purged by pulling some old papers in the filing room. Somewhere along those lines, your mind gets blanked out from the cramped space of the metal shelves, those dusty boxes, compounded by dim lighting in the room already. 

What you do remember: 

The small little gasps and hums when you’re sucking along the line of Minju’s neck, gripping the fistfuls of her dress and sliding your hand along her thighs. 

(So much for keeping it professional with the woman who’s also technically your primary boss.)

“How do you want to go about this?” you ask, “Do you want me to persuade you into telling Dahyun that we need a little more time?” 

Minju hums, pensively, as the question itself is rather a tempting decision that’s also actionable at best. You could see the small lump from the inside of her cheek before she shifts it across her upper lip to the other side, twisting her chair forward to place both elbows on the desk with fingers intertwined like she’s praying for the Lord’s insight from above. “We’ve been on the nose with this thing for too long now, I think it’s about time to cut our losses before things get ugly.” 

You don’t say anything, leaning yourself onto the obsidian while your arms bridge themselves together, flexing the wool in the threads when she makes eye contact with you, flicking her eyes back onto the paper where there’s a few blank lines that still need to be written in ink. 

With a simple lift of her signature ballpoint pen by you, she takes it, twirling it around like you were doing a few minutes ago to imply that your point finally got through to her, fingers grazing along the fine paper to fill in the gaps. 

But the vantage point where your ass is pressed against the edge is proving to be some sense of uncomfortability, so you change course, from left to right, vacant chair adjacent to the desk in your hands in a fraction of a second, scooching closely while Minju scoffs at the prying during the task, “Didn’t think it’d be that easy for you to be cooperative with the demands.” 

“Stop,” and Minju sings this with the better facade of her naivete, “Unlike you, I’m willing to actually listen to what's being asked from the first try, and not have it repeated to me through different remarks.”  

You get too close, too soon, when the ends of her hair brushes against the front corner of your lips and cheek, she could hear the air close at the bottom of your throat when the tip of your nose barely grazes her cheekbone. A moment like this occurred before, you could say it’s in the sense of deja vu: Minju invites you out for some quality time between partner and associate, a few drinks were on the table, and Minju challenges you to a simple game of pool. 

Sounds pretty mangable and straightforward, right? 

Wrong. 

You get shafted by Minju the first game, pull yourself back the next round. There’s this back and forth like usual banter between colleagues, dishing out trash talk for some good ol’ competition. The count of drinks gets lost along with the perception of time, and this happens on impulse when you’re backed into a corner with the eight ball being the last one for Minju while you’re behind on three solids. She rambled about you being always two steps behind and you can’t blame or deny the fact that she’s also way out of your league, so what do you do? Take the pleasantries of hums to your advantage, molding your hips along with hers, calloused hands lightly clinging onto the denim while your chin nestles into her collarbone, saying carelessly with intent of taunting, don’t you think you should call the last shot if you do make it? 

Minju nips her lip triumphantly, turning her head, catching on with what you’re incessantly doing, whispering her call: left corner pocket. The attention to the black ball slips out of your mind when she presses your lips onto your cheek, a fatal blow while the space opens up between you again, tipping her head back also lets you know that you lost the best of three series, which also meant that the loser has to pay the bill. 

(You pay your dues, but also add the pay up by making your own call: pocketing yourself into Minju’s cunt on her bed later that would only serve all the wiser.) 

A flashback in your mind that took minutes, only to be reeled into the real world by merely seconds, “You missed one more claus–” 

That gap could be filled after, because this deal on the agenda was more important to deal with. 

Minju grabs you by the tie, leveling your head with hers. Your hands are quick to smooth out her skirt from behind, letting the various files and dossiers rest across the desk or on the floor, depending where her hands land for a proper hold. Some lights stay on long after hours, to serve as a subtle ambience that no matter what time it may be, someone’s still hard at work on a case, or waiting for their personal driver on the ground floor. Though, some other cases include a well-spoken conversation, or even just chatting between colleagues - this chat about work with Minju however, was anything but that. 

Right off the bat, you’re reminded of how Minju is so easy to break down, despite her having a front that has every possible contingency of shutting herself away from others because she’s not that kind of character to be soft and open, until where your fingers are dancing alongside the slope of her bottoms at the hips, thumb rounding the hard end with a slow pull of her chair to reel closer until you’re at the edge of your seat. 

The move itself is so subtle, setting her on the desk in a similar position that you were in while she was signing through the documents with her ass pressed against the desk, scooching back while dancing with her tongue, lips parted with her head tilted. You’ve also managed to get your hands underneath Minju’s perfect thighs, lifting her up to the tabletop, spreading her long limbs much like to that excerpt of Moses parting the Red Sea, dipping your hand underneath to get a feel of her lace. 

Minju’s breaths become slightly erratic, nearly short-circuiting the more your fingertips dance along the line of her skirt; inner thighs pressing along the side of your hips while you cater your mouth and fingers in her hair, her neck, the growing heat rising in the skin when she whimpers through your teeth given how cold it was in the room. How your fingertips graze along the slightly damp fabric with one- maybe two tips, you chuckle softly at how she’s very responsive to the touch, the small clutch around your neck and back from her arms to serve as a safeguard. 

This is something that you’ll probably take to the District Attorney, let alone have Dahyun in the loop, in the specific case where you find yourself with no other option, a last resort to drown her into the ground: 

“Let me ask you this again,” you prompt with another received kiss to the growing swell of your bottom lip, “Are you sure that there’s nothing happening between us? Especially in the workplace?” 

Minju gasps out before you shut her up with your lips, channeling the moan when you increase the intensity of swirling around her clit, putting her hips out forward to sate that ache for at least something, anything. 

“You’re certain that you can say with full confidence that you have no kind of interest in me, whatsoever, admit to me right now that I’m correct.” 

You could tell from the look on her face and the moan she lets out, vocal cords open and freely flowing with the heavy tone while crumbling at the touch, all hot and wet and losing most of the plot at this point before even getting to the real business. It’s really wicked, how this woman as your boss flaunts around the floor, knowing that she won’t let anything get in her way for getting the case done, doing whatever it takes to see it through to the end and even if the methods aren’t within the boundaries. 

Like you could handle the boundaries yourself, playing nice isn’t always the way to go. 

While your hand hikes up the smooth skin of her thigh, feeling an unfamiliar ridge, a weave, something that hugs her leg that probably deserves to be there, to help with the appearance and everything- maybe not or maybe so, you’ll assess when the moment gets there. She grips around what she could touch in terms of your blazer, hips pushing forward at the flex of muscle when you’re scratching the surface of her clothed cunt, the ripple effect shown in her body as she arches first, then sighs into your collarbone the next. 

“Mmn, pretty–” Minju groans out, letting a small hiss through the porcelain cracks of her teeth, “so well, so, so amazing.” 

You’ll seek out the wants, the needs, the odds to break even, testing out the very little restraints in patience left while this cold-hearted woman is melting into your touch, giving you the benefit of having free reign over her body, when she’s murmuring these little hums and broken phrases that switches back to yours with more perversion. 

“I need an answer from you.” Playing prosecutor against the defense wasn’t always ideal unless it’s a mock trial, but you’re always one to challenge Minju, getting her to see your points on a day to day basis, proving her wrong when you know it’s impossible to. She can see right through you, always letting you take the loss, never accepting a victory that you rightfully deserved. You’ll be good, go to her when you’re in a rut, she expects it to happen, that’s how loyalty works. Though, there’s nothing wrong with being defiant. “Don’t make me ask again.” 

It’s all a tease, the way you let the lace dip underneath the slit with the extra press of fingers, toying with the soaking walls and fighting the urge to tug the strings the more you repeat the same fucking routine–

“Baby,” she croons, it’s pathetic. You’re about to get worked up too if you play the waiting game, dragging your thumb across her clit so delicately that she’s quivering, squirming, feeling the tense in her shoulders through the button up, hanging onto your forearm when the hold gets a little too tight. Those breathy gasps get your mind ahead to what’s coming, the natural instinct of what you’ll do to her in her office, on top of her desk, and maybe even on that stupid velvet couch if need be. 

You can hear the huffs more clearly down your ear, the rise and fall of her upper body when you coax her for a few seconds; she’s spiraling out of control, a whine gets suppressed with a press of lips to her throat, and she stumbles back on her arm, spreading wider in mirth. 

She’s shaking her head, eyes screwed shut, like wincing, the whine too - holy hell - it’s reminding you after that night at the bar with her, a moment coming full circle. 

A hand sweeps through her hair, fingers carding, you kiss that sweet spot just underneath her earlobe, a lick from the tip of your tongue to get her more fitful, bring the desperation and sluttiness out of her lips. 

“Do you have- “ she’s sputtering out the letters and consonants, intertwined with hitches and moans, “any idea of what you do?” Minju can’t stay composed while the nips at her jaw and neck close the distance between her mouth–

“Haven’t had the slightest.” you whisper, hiking up the last bit of her skirt to see the new piece to untangle, “God, Minju- lacy stockings? Really?” 

The laugh she lets out should set you off in annoyance, almost like a border that’s meant to be there and never to be touched - let alone cross, fingers clasped around the nape of your neck to keep you trapped while she smiles to the small victory, “You sound surprised. I always come to work with these pairs from time to time, but you don’t leer when I want you to.” 

Her eyes flutter shut once again when you tend to her pulse point, mouth gaping open when you’re doing two things at once: soothing the warmth on her neck while your fingers work teasing her clit and walls, a punishment of sorts when she’s reeling back onto the desk with a slipping hand, her other limp gripping your forearm to not stop - but keep going. 

“How long–” Minju asks while she’s practically sliding off of the polished bark, “have you waited to do this…to me?” Strands of hair falling forward ever-so slightly in front of her forehead, hand tangled to the back of your head while your ear is pressing against the hard line of her collarbone. You don’t pay any attention to her subjective inquiry, replacing it with another strand of moans leaving her lips when you skate her ass across the table again, the bottoms of her thighs meeting yours, melting a bit more when her core rubs against the emerging bulge from between your legs. 

She knows what she’s doing, it’s a trade off of pushing buttons. Trying to get you to lose all the sensible urges just to give her what she exactly wants. 

You let your hands map out the case: her hips, the flat plane of her waist, where the peak of her hips meet at the hint of her obliques, only for your digits to spread out behind on the curve of her ass, feeling the lacy panties that might go against dress code policy because of how too fucking thin they were. Minju grins against your mouth, the exchange of hot air serving to be this addicting oxygen that you can’t get enough of. “Who knows how long I’ve wanted to have a crack at you. I just put myself off to the side because I knew that I’d never stand a chance.” 

She laughs, and you hate to admit how much you like it. The image of her being disheveled in front of you, just inches away from the fingertips; legs spread out wide on her own desk, waiting to be ruined. 

“What’s going through your head right now?” Minju asks, tossing her arm on the lower section of your waist, seizing you while failing to meet her glazed eyes. “Have you…fantasized about me? Tell me all about it. I’m intrigued. Want to know what gets you off after work.” 

And there it goes again: the banter. She’s always quick for a couple liners, sayings and slang that you’ve shared with her day in day out. Minju isn’t the kind of person to greet you with a ‘good morning’ or ‘want to get a quick drink or bite from the cafe downstairs?’ - but rather: right down to the dirty business of what she needs you to do in the long, extensive hours of the workday, dealing with clients, putting up with her and Hyewon’s bullshit, getting the necessary paperworks, and having some random beef with Yena in the break room. Minju is always quick to give you insight on what needs to happen, you also supply your own opinions and takes where Minju does accept some of them (most of the time). 

Except for this, when her cropped blazer is barely hanging off the shoulders, skirt hiked up past the peak of her thighs, displaying that wet spot in between her unbelievable legs, pulling you by the tie because she doesn’t have time for you to fucking daydream saying: “C’mon, pretty boy. You’re basically drooling in front of me and we haven’t even got to the fun parts yet–” 

She stops short when you lay the rough palm of your hand against her pussy, hushing through the cuff of her ear, grip tightening and muscles tensing in her body as if something snapped within you - which it did for a slight second - before you draw yourself back, finally looking her in the brown ambers of her eyes. 

“I had a dream once,” you finally built up the courage to start, “about being here, in your office.” landing a kiss to the corner of her lip to keep yourself focused. On a night just like this, where you’re sitting nicely on top of your desk. Your legs were spread apart like so. Minju coos when she sees you lightly licking your lips. It would’ve been better if you were already out of your clothes, naked for me. Her head dips forward when she feels the languid circles rubbed across her clit, I fucked you right here, on this desk. And then, I ruined that pretty little couch that you love so much apparently. 

“God, you’re insane.” She’s acting innocently like she too hasn’t been teasing you out and around the workplace before this. 

Insane? It becomes a little bit more deranged where Minju’s jaw drops to the floor when she hears the sinful sound of her lacy panties being ripped away from her hips. 

“Oh, I could do a lot more for you right now, and believe me, I will.” You assess the drainage when your finger plunges into her cunt; the sharp inhale she takes in while saying ‘shit’ is only brief when you’re thrown off by her walls tightening around you, her hands working the buckle of your belt and slithering past the pants. 

“And how do you suppose you’ll keep your word?” she asks, fingers coiling your cock, the reaction easily readable judging from the loss of breath through your windpipe.

“Consider this as wet work.” 

“Wet work?” 

This attractive woman who’s posture could rival classy models, with those perfect lips in both sets, the image now being unraveled like an item being auctioned off to the highest bidder: how her legs open enough for you to fill the space, the way her bra sits across her chest once the blazer is finally discarded onto the floor. (She’s pretty now, she’ll be even prettier when you have your way over her, helplessly letting these soft sounds out, coming undone over or underneath, it won’t matter either way, because that’s always the endgame.) 

“You’ve got your skirt on still,” you observe, pulling her closer to the edge of the slab, “I don’t know if-” 

“Ignoring the double entendre you made?” she gasps, struggling to keep composure when the ends of your fingers, tightening her grip around your cock while the other arm is thrown around your shoulder, “just-please-like that-fuck-oh fuck-” 

Minju sort of hides away from the immense pressure in her cunt and her clit, seeing the usual features on her face show a little more crease to them, slacking with her words, lost, feeling every bit of you, huffs of poor syllables and consonants, octaves going up in keys. You’re loving how needy she’s getting. 

What’s the matter? You whisper against her chin. You don’t seem too well. Body burning up? Too hot for you to handle? She’s gone too far off to answer, only by huffs and light nods of her head, the flex in her knees, hands across your broad back, working herself around your fingers, groaning when it gets all too much. 

The idea of staying at the firm for the night doesn’t seem that bad of an idea to do. 

“Fingers, babe,” she whines, rasping in moans at the ends of them, “fingers are too fucking good, want it- so bad-give me a–fuck-” 

Her eyes are screwed shut, clinging onto your body desperately while she starts to work the buttons off your shirt; starting in the middle rather than the top or bottom because she can’t think straight. But she diverts her hands instead to the loops on your sides, wiggling you out of your pants more - keeping herself moving while trying to ignore the throbbing that’s happening between her legs. 

“Tell me what you need, boss,” you say, a little tinge of sincerity behind the professional title. “Maybe put some solidity to this little affair?” 

Minju gives you this glare, scattered ends of her hair covering the little blush that’s all too apparent across her cheeks, failing fantastically the way she lets out this wail when your two fingers fill up her cunt completely, pulling her over the edge of the desk one last time as you mesh your hips right in the underside of her thighs, body leaning back with the arch bending a whole lot deeper, head back while you lean yourself forward that tips over a few trinkets across the desk; some picture frames fall face flat, that one pendulum set you’d always mess around with in the morning briefings nicks around in disarray, and her nameplate kinda just gets hit in the crossfire by Minju’s stray hand and onto the floor. 

“Call this,” she sputters, gasping, heaving most likely, “a hot and steamy affair.” 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you retort, “don’t get smart with me now.” 

She just looks at you with that same sly smirk she’s been wearing whenever she teases you about anything. You find it annoying at times because of how effortless she does it, this time her breaking smile doesn’t match up with her eyes and how they are dead, sincere with a desire waiting to be fulfilled, a craving that’s been long overdue simply because you know that Minju is not an easy person to break down, though that’s been proven to be the complete opposite now. 

There’s this priming for a second, your own hand wrapped around your cock, getting close, until you nudge yourself from the first few inches inside her cunt, feeling the small press to push more, replaced with the easy glide inside the compact, yet addicting heat. It’s also kinda cute how you and Minju share this quick inhale - a hiss would be better to describe it - then you see her blown out irises, that sly smile getting more lazier, lost completely when you drag the half of your length out, slowly, steadily. 

“Wait, fuck-” she mumbles out, laying flat across the top. Her chest rises and falls a little more erratically, eyelids fluttering shut when you sink back right in, deeper this time, delicately, a little tease with the pullout before feeling her out completely. You learn for the first time ever since stepping inside that one room that day for the interview: that small thought of how it would be so easy to slot yourself right into Minju would be nothing but a pipe dream, becomes too real to relish in the feeling now. 

Then she mumbles again: “holy fucking shit.” 

You give one good snap of the hips for good measure, and the ripple effect of Minju’s body sliding across the desk, the wiggle in her perfect tits, her hands hold fast to yours around her thighs as if she’ll do the fucking all by herself while you just stand there in awe. 

But you’re good as fucked if you weren’t already, so you snap your hips back into her again, harder. Then again, filling up her perfect cunt each and every time you bottom out. You’ll take this image to your grave, let this be the last piece of evidence submitted to the judge who’ll sentence you do a much safer place in hell: MInju’s pretty body, with stockings around her perfect legs, tits sliding across her chest in every stroke, cock disappearing inside her cunt as her pretty lips fit around them with ease. 

“Minju, I - God,”, you try to tell her, the promise buried in your throat, buried underneath the air that flows right above the words, as your hips meet hers, the audible smack of her thighs filling up the office, how amazing she’s massaging your length well deep inside her, all slicked up and smooth for you to keep going. “I’ve been waiting for this- dreaming how to get you all stretched with this tight pussy. Your cunt, baby. Minju–” 

“You’ve shown me why - why I chose you, out of everyone else - show me again how good you can-” she breathes. When her mouth trails off again, because of the strokes, the clench in her pussy, hands clinging onto your wrists as you cast your own hands onto her waist. 

Eventually, nothing sounds better than the noises she makes against your collarbone, angling deeper where - you find out on the fly, and maybe something to keep in mind for later. It’s all coaxed out when you’re working her to the wall, holding her carefully while she can just keep herself stretched out, working all of the bundle of nerves across the spots inside her cunt. 

“More, honey,” and the pet names just seem to escalate as they come, do they? She sets herself up on a wobbly elbow, seeing the flex of muscle across your arms and stomach each time you rip into her, fucking her with a steady pace, but teetering on the subtle rawness, that hidden potential that sets yourself apart from the other talents you have working as one of the top employees. “Love it when you- fuck me to pieces.” 

"Anything else you want to say to me?"

“What’s also nice is that,” she continues to ramble (another thing that you’ve heard make rounds through the wings), dizziness shown in her eyes, the continuous clapping of her pulsing cunt, tightening around you, molding her into the perfect shape of - “how you continue to surprise everyone here, including me-” 

A string of curses spill out your mouth, Minju can’t help with the mix of laughs and moans at how good you feel inside her, the sight of your cock vanishing between her legs, putting one past the degree where her knee nearly touches her clothed tit, and that gets her wincing for a quick second. You’ll probably put this in a mental file, how you’ll get her to molten cunt more creaming until she cums, cums, cums and cums-

“-you’re like me, but only as a handsome guy who continues to impress-” 

Anything else that comes out of her mouth in lieu of praise will only feed that ego in your mind to get one over her, to say that you’ll always be two steps behind her while she’s five ahead. She doesn’t let you off easily, so why would you do the opposite for her? Rocking your hips towards hers makes the legs of the desk mirror the motion of your tempo, thumbs pressed up against the mold of her ribs just underneath her breasts, deep into the skin where you could also bend the bones beneath them while they rebound off of the smacks. 

You’ve got your hand over her mouth, to shut her up, eyes squinted tight to where her brows could meet in the middle, grasping onto your wrist while the muffles of your name reach higher in octaves, sobbing in her moans while she’s suffocating against the roughness of your palm.

She can’t keep focus for any moment longer, eliciting shorter gasps when you tease by slapping your cock head on the nub of her clit, gritting her teeth at the shameless tease you’re giving. 

“Can-” it’s a little sweltering to notice that she’s reduced to helpless one word blurbs, slipping inside of her once again to make her chest freeze off of the flares in her waist. “harder- i need you to-” 

The shiver that erupts through your fibers sends you in limbo, feeling Minju’s ankle anchor behind your back, serving as the reins when you stutter in pace, ass hanging off of the desk to completely bottom her out, and your cock is constantly getting soaked with a new layer of her slick each time you pull back. 

That low groan she lets out meshed with the word ‘fuck’ undermines her whole persona. Once known for being straightforward with her words, now lurching you in to keep pounding into her, slaps bouncing off the windows when she tries to perch her head upwards to see the damage, but slowly losing tension in her neck, deprived of focus when she lolls her head back to the original spot, sucking in air, sobbing even more loudly. 

“Please, like that, keep doing that, I’ll let you anything to me, just–” You could see her lip wobble a bit slightly, cunt shaped to every minute detail of your cock, “i’m so- so fucking close, you fuck me so good- so well–” 

“So tight,” you say, deep of that desired well. Minju is past the point of where the obscene words and demands can’t even be verbally said anymore. She’s whimpering, lazy wrist over her mouth again, the little strands in her hair bouncing along as one of the ripple effects caused by your length. “Gonna have you aching for me long after-” 

It’s all royally fucked. 

The way that she, oh- 

How she clamps well around you, the new coat of her arousal soaking your crotch. When you’ve edged her out past the bar and how her whole body spasms in strain and ease, she’s clutching for something within arms reach - your hands and fingers, or anything that she can grasp - while these sinful sounds unravel her from her vocal cords. Her eyes look like they can’t open at all; with the small stream of stray tears falling from her cheek. You’re also crinkling your own features, jaw hung low with the bellowing moan leaving your mouth along with hers. 

You could easily get lost in the reveling of Minju cumming over your cock, but you’re not seeing this through to the end not just yet. 

In one swift motion, you flip her over, hook her waist, pull this one party trick of stripping her bra away from her chest, pushing her back down to which she giggles slightly. “Here.” you tell her, mouth well above the lobe of her ear, hanging her ass off the desk again. “I’m just getting started.” 

Minju puts this lazy smile on her face, eyelids still closed, using whatever energy left that you haven’t dicked out of her to catch her breath, sliding her palms across the desk downwards to set herself in place. “God,” she says this as a revelation, “you are so fucking good.” 

A low chuckle is all she hears while you pull her back up against your stomach, twisting her head up to your lips, pressing them to her cheek, while she traps her bottom lip between her teeth. 

You say this as a serving rebuttal: “I’m better than good.” 

Minju can be selfish at times, always willing to put her own personal interests over yours or anyone else’s (most of the time). But when you’ve broken her down to this: knees apart, your back flush with hers on her favorite couch, pushing well past the limit, driving your cockhead down the deepest depth to where you could get it, cupping the crease where her leg and hip meet, clasping with the pads of your fingers, dragging and impaling her what could be a punishment for her - or a reward to the limitless amounts of things that she wants and receives on almost every occasion. She’s the kind of woman to play the long game, hard to get, make someone like you grind your way in order to rail her in the most intense-rough fuck that she loves (but won’t admit), or the excruciating delay of feeling every nerve binded inside her walls, where the veins of your length just graze slightly enough to feel the tense in her muscles, her hands; going limp while lazily whining at the slide of your dick inside her cunt, playing with her while she’s whimpering at you to finish the job. 

“God fucking dammit,” she manages, laying herself flat while you’re hovering right on top of her, taking your cock while she can only grip the seat covers. It’s all there, bare back and ass, the set of stockings still on her majestic thighs. You’re hitting her hips hard and heavy, the stable and slow strokes while she fills your ears with these strings of babbles that aren’t really conceivable to decipher or understand. She got a little to excited, bouncing her ass back against your cock while you just drop your arms and admired the show, before pushing deep with your balls nicking the clit at the end of every thrust, and that earns you these thick gasps, only taking you whole with every slam of your weight against her nimble body. “God, I- fuck- need you all the time, please.” 

“Whatever you want,” you hush against the crook of her neck. That is something that you’ll take to heart under oath. She croons at how you're spilling all of these filthy things in her ear, a guarantee of sorts to the promises that have already bent the both of your minds into obliviion. "If it helps to stop you from fucking those other scumbags you call 'your clients' on a weekend basis, then I'll give it to you, sweetheart."

The self-control went off the rails a while ago, this was just free real estate with the endless cantations of moans coming out of her. "Need me to cum inside this sopping cunt so badly?" you ask, pulling a handful of hair that lifts her by the neck, "love using this pussy to get myself off."

She's giggling at the action because it's necessary. You could imagine the grin on her face for the entire world to see. "Words baby, or I'll cum-"

“Fuck- just, do anything- I want you.” Minju gasps with a whine tinged behind the words. It’ll be in the records, spoken into existence. She could care more less than a fuck of what others think after all of this is over. Pace slowing down, feeling that throb tremor against her walls when you’ve held out for this long, an overdue reward in itself. 

It just took one more good hit to bury your cock into that perfect pussy, spilling everything, sending it deeper in the trenches of her cunt, fucking yourself in while she’s putting some effort to say your name, only for it to be overpowered by the gluttal moans you’re letting out while the shackles of tension finally come loose. Her head is pressed enough to leave a visible print on the cushions, crying before the shudder translates to her noises when you drive all the way in for one final time, letting the pulse die out; every heartbeat, every drop. 

Your nose is pressed into the side of her head, taking in that sweet scent from her hair, showered in bliss, tangling and untangling until she takes rest in your arms, straddling your lap, chin forming alongside the small dip in your collarbone. 

Minju offers this lazy smile, matching your rise and fall of breaths in your chest, blowing this hint of cool air to your neck that makes you twitch slightly from the sudden sensation, lips against the line of your throat: 

“A hot and steamy affair, huh? I think I can let that pass by.” 

“You really want to call it that?” you inquire, hands sliding down to the plush of her ass. 

Minju simply laughs while you shake your head at the rhetorical question. “All honesty though, I thought that you and-” 

“We are not going there.” you tell her, leaning back when she sets herself straight in your arms, hands along broad shoulders with the curtain of her hair falling towards one side. Definitely something that you’ve had in a wet dream before - talk about having deja vu. “Absolutely not.” 

It’s when she trails her fingertip across the chiseled form of muscle across your chest, elevating her hand higher to cup your face. She gives you this look in her eyes, the kind that would make anyone keel over because as you’re reminded: Minju is someone who always gets what she wants. And when she rubs her thumb across your cheek, your cock jumps a few millimeters underneath her hips to which she notices, and seizes the opportunity presented to her. 

Leaning forward with a purring whisper in the act, and you’re suspended in time while she moves. “I think I should repay you for treating me right just now.” 

Minju has never owed anything to you. For the most part in your career, it was her that has given you these chances to make a name for yourself, to prove that you could go toe to toe with the best in the court, to prove to her why she chose you out of countless others to be her associate. If anything, you owe pretty much everything to her. 

But maybe-

Maybe just this once-

“My little pretty boy needs to have his cock all cared for, right?” she asks when she sinks down to the edge of the disgraced couch, spreads your knees apart, eyes trained on you, lowering her head to swipe her tongue across your balls and the base of your shaft, feeling that same twitch in your cock when she gets a dainty hand across the length, well trained with the languid strokes that she’s giving you; it’s not hard to give in to that searing heat of her mouth while you’re trying to find the right words to respond. 

(The options here are very limited: considering the fact that you have your hips forward with your friend / partner / new love interest slobbering all over your length, rubbing the head of your cock across her pretty face until she drains you out completely, painting her cheek white and bathing in the taste of your cum while you’re struggling to stay awake. 

After all, you could just spend the night here at the firm bearing in mind how late it is. 

"Are we really doing this?" you asked, feeling just a bit paranoid.

"And wait until we get back to Seoul? I don't know when I'll have free time again," Karina reminded you, her hands already moving to your belt buckle.

"You've got a point there..."

"Plus, it's exciting right?" she smiled up at you, her nose brushing against yours. Sometimes you forgot how both goofy and filthy Karina could be at the same time. Though, if you needed a reminder it came in the form of her fingers curling around your cock. She gave you a few testing pumps.

"I think you've got your answer," you joked.

Her smile widened as she finished shoving down your pants and boxers.

"We have to be quick," she said.

"I thought you said you had time?"

"Are you questioning me wanting to suck your cock sooner?"

"Well, when you put it like that I sound silly..."

She smiled as she leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing a brief kiss to your lips.

"I like silly. Just try not to get too loud."

Karina’s hands left your waist for a moment, and you watched as she grabbed a handful of tissue paper from the dispenser. She knelt down, spreading the paper carefully on the floor like she was preparing a makeshift altar.

The fluorescent light above flickered slightly, casting a faint buzz that mingled with the hum of the airport outside. You could hear the distant echo of boarding announcements, the muffled chatter of passengers, and the occasional squeak of rolling luggage. But here, in this cramped stall, the world felt impossibly small—just you and her.

“This is crazy you know that?” you whispered.

Karina glanced up at you, her lips curling into that mischievous smile you knew so well. “Do you want me to stop?” Her fingers trailed up your thighs, teasing, as if daring you to say yes.

You didn’t.

Instead, you let out a shaky breath as she settled onto her knees, the tissue paper crinkling softly beneath her. Her hands found your hips, steadying you, and you could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine, one that made you grip the sides of the stall for balance.

“Someone’s anxious,” Karina said, her voice low and playful.

“Trying not to think about how many people are right outside,” you admitted.

Karina’s fingers curled around your shaft, giving it a light stroke, “Don’t think about them. Just think about me.”

And then her mouth was on you, warm and wet and perfect. Your head tipped back instinctively, hitting the stall door with a soft thud. You bit down on your lip to stifle a groan. Her tongue swirled around your cock, teasing and tasting, while her hands gripped your thighs to keep you steady.

“Karina—” Her name came out as more of a gasp than a word.

She pulled back just enough to look up at you, her lips glistening. “Too much?”

You shook your head, your voice strained. “Keep going.”

Karina’s smile widened, and she leaned in again, taking your length deeper this time. Her lips trailed along your cock; the warm, wet cavern swallowing you again. Your fingers tangled in her dark hair, not to guide her, but to ground yourself as she sent pleasure down up your spine. The sounds she made—soft, satisfied hums as she bobbed her head on your cock—vibrated through you, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Outside, the faint sound of footsteps in the distance, and you froze, your body tensing. Karina didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed to take your hesitation as a challenge, her movements growing more deliberate, more intense.

“Relax,” her breath was hot against your exposed cock, “No one’s coming in here.”

“You don’t know that,” you hissed, though your grip on her hair tightened involuntarily.

She pulled back again, her lips brushing against your cock.

“Don’t you trust me?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”

“Then stop worrying.”

Her tongue flicked against the tip, and you choked back a moan.

It was as convincing an argument as any else.

Her mouth returned to your length, and this time, she didn’t hold back. The rhythm of her movements as she choked herself on your fat rod. The feel of her tongue running along the underside of your shaft every time she took you deep into her throat. The vulgar sounds of her gagging on your cock over and over again.

“God, Karina,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you looked down at her.

Her large-framed glasses were slightly askew, her dark hair falling into her face as she worked. She glanced up at you, her eyes locking with yours, and the sight of her like this—lips wrapped around you, cheeks flushed, glasses slipping down her nose—it was pure perfection.

“You look so fucking beautiful. Taking my cock so well.”

She hummed in response, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked on your cock, coming off with an audible pop before she was on you again. Her hands moved to your balls, her fingers teasing and massaging as she took you deeper, her pace growing more erratic. Despite your earlier apprehension you didn’t want this to end, not yet at least.

And just when you were finally starting to let yourself go, you heard it.

Voices.

They were faint at first, muffled by the bathroom door, but they grew louder as they approached. Your body tensed, your fingers tightening in Karina’s hair, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she seemed to take your hesitation as a challenge, her movements growing more deliberate.

“Did you see them?” a woman’s voice asked, her tone excited. “I swear, I just saw Karina from aespa near the gate!”

Your heart skipped a beat, but Karina didn’t even flinch. Her tongue swirled around your cock, her fingers still playing with your balls, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from moaning.

“No way,” another voice replied, “Do you think they are on our flight?”

“I don’t know, but I hope so. Can you imagine sitting next to them?”

Karina’s eyes flicked up to yours, and you could see the mischief in them. She was enjoying this—the risk, the secrecy, the fact that they were so close yet so oblivious. Her hand moved to your thigh, her nails digging in slightly as she took you deeper, her pace quickening.

You could feel yourself unraveling. The voices outside were still talking, their conversation casual and unaware, but all you could focus on was Karina—her mouth, her hands, the way she looked at you like she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“If only they knew,” you thought, your mind hazy with pleasure. “If only they knew how close they were to Karina right now. Their favorite idol, on her knees, looking this filthy.”

The voices began to fade as the pair moved on, their footsteps echoing down the hallway. Karina pulled off you with a soft pop, her lips glistening and her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. She looked up at you, her eyes dark and playful, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” you accused.

She grinned, her fingers still wrapped around you, stroking slowly while her other hand adjusted her glasses. “Maybe. Can you blame me?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted, your voice cracking as her thumb brushed over the tip of your cock.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your thigh as she spoke. “Are you close?”

You nodded, your breath hitching.

“Do you want to come all over my face?” she asked, her tone innocent, as if she were asking about the weather.

The image alone was enough to make your knees weak—her pretty face, her large glasses, her lips parted as she looked up at you, your release painting her perfect skin. But you knew you didn’t have time for the cleanup, not with the risk of someone walking in at any moment.

“I want to see you swallow it all down,” you growled, your voice rough and urgent, barely contained.

Karina’s grin widened, sharp and knowing, and she didn’t hesitate. She took you back into her mouth, her tongue hot and wet as it slid along your length, teasing before she sank deeper. Her rhythm was relentless, each stroke pulling a ragged breath from your chest. Her hands gripped your thighs, nails digging in just enough to ground you, to keep you steady as she took you deeper, faster, her movements growing desperate.

“Fuck—yes, just like that,” you hissed, your voice breaking as the pressure coiled tighter in your gut. Your fingers tangled in her hair, not guiding, just holding on, as if Karina might slip away if you let go. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop.”

She didn’t. Karina’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry behind her glasses, which were slightly askew now, one lens fogged from the heat of her breath. The sight of her like that—messy, undone—sent a fresh surge of desire through you. Your hips jerked forward, involuntarily at first, but then you couldn’t stop. You moved with her, fucking her mouth in time with her head bobbing, each thrust driving you deeper, harder.

“That’s it—take it,” you groaned, your voice rough and uneven. “You feel so fucking good, Karina—I can’t—”

The words dissolved into a moan as she hummed around you, the vibration ripping through your body like a shockwave. Karina’s hands tightened on your thighs, urging you on, and you lost yourself in the rhythm, your hips snapping forward as she took everything you gave her.

“I’m close—so close,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “You’re going to make me—fuck—”

The tension snapped, sharp and electric, tearing through you in waves. Karina didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch, just took everything you gave her, her throat working around you as she swallowed you down.

When it was over, she stayed there for a moment, her forehead resting against your thigh, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Her glasses were nearly falling off now, crooked and smudged, and you reached down to adjust them with a shaky hand.

You slumped against the stall door, your legs trembling, and let out a shaky laugh.

“Jesus, Karina,” you muttered, your voice still unsteady. “You’re going to kill me.”

She looked up at you, her lips still glistening and her eyes bright with satisfaction.

“You love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. There was no question you adored this woman.

After a few more moments of gathering yourself, your heartbeat still thrumming in your ears, you reached a hand down to help her to her feet.

“Come on, you’re already late for the boarding call.”

She took your hand, her fingers warm and soft against yours, and stood, brushing herself off with a casual grace that made it hard to believe what had just happened.

You have been nervous yet excited for a whole week, since the day when your team picked up that call.

When the day arrives, you ride to the location in the morning, a few hours earlier than anyone. You start setting up the sound control zone, to make your teammates work easier, so when your team arrives, you can let them do it on their own and you hope the festival goes well.

Your team made it at noon to do their roles. Luckily, you have a flawless team who barely make mistakes.

‘Yeah, that’s probably my biggest work to date.’ - you talking to yourself

So, it means that you now have time to rest after being tired from waking up and coming early. Now you feel asleep in your team’s room

‘I gotta see a few performa-‘ you talked to yourself, but you start to fall asleep due to being tired.

You suddenly woke up and started to hear the voices of people talking around your room. You find out that K-Pop artists and their managers also arrived at the festival too.

‘Oh shit, they arrive?’ - you questioning

You start to seeing many shadows and hearing many voices outside the windows, might be the artists who start entering their room to rest and wait for their showtime.

As a K-Pop fan, you still didn’t believe it. You’re now close to K-Pop artists more than any fans in the festival, only 1 aisle away from your room.

You woke up at 6:30PM. You look at your phone and start to shock.

‘Oh! I slept too long. I hope I’m not get any missed calls, messages or knocks from my teammates’ - saying with nervousness

Luckily again, you didn’t miss anything from your team.

‘Phew, Okay, I really formed a great team’ - you proudly saying it

Even at the big event, your team manage to doing great on their work.

‘I hope i will get a bonus or gift or any reward after this’ - you joking

At that moment, you hear a knock at the door.

‘Hello, Anyone’s in there?’

Someone just knocks at the door, you confuse. It’s either your teammates or someone you don’t know and randomly knocking. So, you answer to the voice at the door.

‘Yes, Are you sure you’re knocking on the right room?’

‘This is the sound team room, right? I have some issue with my microphone.’

‘Ah, yes, I’m coming!’

You stand up and run to the door to open it

‘Hi, I’m chief sound offic-, Oh! You’re Somi, right?’ - you surprisingly asking her

‘Yeah, I’m Somi. Nice to meet you’ - she says it and shake your hand

‘Y- Yeah, Nice to meet you too’ - you shake her hand and show your nervousness expression

‘U-uh, so, what’s the problem?, Did anything wro-wrong with your microphone?’

‘So, i have some issue about my microphone. I think it’s broken, and i want to change it. Then I went to find the sound team. And they told me to go to their room at backstage to change it, and they led me here’ - she explaining how she got here

‘Oh, Okay, I will change it for you. So, please come in the room first’ - you inviting her to come in

‘Thank You’ - Somi says it with pleasure

You’ve turn your back, but you see a little gaze from her eyes at a few seconds before you turn your head back. It feels like her eyes went look up and down, you think she tries to tell you something. But you didn’t think about it and go to your team’s rack, where your team have kept spare microphones.

You’ve tried every microphones as much as you have, plug it into the speaker and test it, to find the best one to give her. The room was silent, only the signal noise from the speaker. You’ve tried so many microphones, but you start to be aware that Somi will perform late. So, you decide to talk to her to break the silence.

‘So, how many minutes you have left before you perform?’ - you concernedly asking her

‘30 minutes, but that’s fine, don’t worry. I handle it professionally’ - she answers

‘Oh, okay, I guess you’ve been in the industry for a long time, right?’

‘How you know about that?’

‘I ain’t gonna lie. I’ve been a fan of K-Pop for a while now, and i’ve been knowing about you and your ex-group. And you know what? My bias is you, that’s why I know you’

‘Oh, you’re a fan of me???’

‘Yeah, i like you because of your talents, and especially your hard-working’ - you’ve just praising the girl in front of you, and yap about how you like her

‘Oh, thanks for those kind words’

And then, she starts to stand up and walk towards to you, but you don’t recognize it because you’re busy and trying to finding the best one. Once you start to notice something behind you. You turn your back, and you see Somi being closer to you.

‘Ah! You scare me!’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just want to see it.’

It looks like Somi was looking for something. You start to get nervous, realizing how closer she is.

‘Can you teach me how to tell that which one are the best?’ – she asks

‘Uh- Uhh, you can’t tell by looking at it without plug into the speaker’ – you answering

‘Oh, Interesting’

And then she starts to touch your arms and slide to your back, then her hands start to roam around your chest, from belly to your belt, and goes down to your zipper.

‘So, I’ve been wondering. Is your microphone the best when its plug it in me’ – she starts to talk dirty

‘Hey! What are you doing!, My teammates will find out’

‘And? Just show them how I treat- I mean test the mic that good’

She starts to take off your belt and unzip your pant and pull down. Your 7-inches cock spring out when she also pulls down your underwear. And she start to reach your cock and start rubbing it.

‘Well, my favorite size, measuring it from behind. I guess it will fit’

She enjoys rubbing you with both of her hands, her forefinger can’t touch her thumb because of how big you are. You try not to moan because it will show that you really love how great rhythm of her handjob.

Somi sneaky to sees your non-reaction, face with no feelings. So, Somi have to try another way.

‘Awww, Am I not testing microphone good enough Daddy? I’ll try another way’

You start to think that she will do something that you were thinking, and you were right. She start to take off her clothes beside you, now you can see her tits and pussy clearly. She kneel on both her knees and moves to the space between you and the team’s rack. You try not to look down on her face, start to avoid looking at her face.

‘Daddy, are you allow me to test another way?’ – She asks

You love how she says the word ‘Daddy’ and how flirty yet slutty she looks, even your cock overlaying half of her face. And you hold your life out try not to answer her, but you can’t hold it. Your face starts to respond to her, your head nodding and she suddenly see it. You have realize that you’ve made a mistake.

‘I’ll take it as acceptance Daddy, I want to see your pre-performance before you plug it in me. And I’ll show you that i can handle it professionally’

She takes your slightly-properly-size cock into her mouth. Her slippery lip shows that she had prepared with saliva before. Inside of her mouth was warmth and moisty, with her tongue as the soft pad that support your cock.

You can’t hold it anymore. You start to move your hip a little and trying to match her rhythm, you can’t stand still. You start to shift your body closer to her to easily surprisedly deepthroat her, but she saw it and knows what you gonna do. Then she takes your cock out of her mouth. Your heart dropping, thought she aware it and it will make her mad.

‘I know what you’re about to do Daddy, don’t think I’m that dumb. Anyways, i’ll help you like how you help me, time for exchange’

You feel relieve that she isn’t mad. And since she already knew what you were about to do. She also moves closer to you and helps your secret objective that’s not secret anymore.

You and Somi starts to match each other freak and rhythm and get more sloppy. You’re now openly show how you enjoyable fucking her face. You firmly grab her head, wring her cheeks to jawline, pull her hair and move her head faster. She also looking up to you, and now you can look down to her without offending.

‘I’m not gonna hold it anymore, bitch. Look at your face while sucking cock is the experience that anyone will never get in their entire life. I guess I’m not that lucky, or someone sent me a gift. It’s just a dirty bitch who hide her pervert side to her fans. Imagine if they know about this, acting like a whore for the guy who just met. Now you look like a mess prostitute, your make-up is fuck up. I feel bad for your make up artist, they have to put more make up before the show because the girl just horny and got fucked rawly. But it can’t solve how mess you look’

‘Damn, you kinda love me now Daddy. You didn’t look like the guy who comfortably welcomed me into the room, passed a chair to me, being kind to me, doing his job to me. Look at you too Daddy, being rough and raw for girl who just met, and lying to girl, saying that he didn’t feel anything. Daddy wasn’t look alike a guy who i just met minutes ago, but i feels like we’ve been fuck before. I wish i met you before’

You both start to talk dirty; you and Somi’s faces turn red, it show how you each other like their compliments.

Her saliva drips down to the floor, her raw, sloppy and consistently blowjob was the most insanely blowjob you’ve ever got. You fuck her mouth for 7 minutes.

Now you feel like your orgasm about to come soon.

‘I’m nearly cum now, take this shit and it will shock you. Your cum-dump face is so fuckable’

‘Show it then Daddy. Fuck my face roughly and I hope your cum will shock me’

You are cupping her face to match the shape of your cock to make you feel like you fuck the tight pussy, the elements of her mouth is so perfect. You had deepthroat her a couple time.

You pull your dick out of her pussy-lookalike mouth and cumming all on her face, paint her face with your seed. Then she lets your white seed running all over her eyes, nose, lip and mouth. Some flows running under her neck through her cleavage, and the others drop down on the floor. Her face now covering in white, she starts to lick her lip and wipe her face to taste your seed.

‘Plenty amount & Delicious. You fuck my mouth so good. No one never done that to me, love how rough and raw you are.’

‘Yeah, me too, that shit was intense as hell.’ - You softly talking

Both of you rest for a couple minutes. And then you see her cleavage has your cum flows through her belly, and you find it sexy. Your cock starts to get erect again; she also saw your cock starts to rise again.

‘My cum behind your cleavage is so hot honestly. If you mind me to fu-‘

‘I know what you want Daddy even though we just met. But i can predict that you want my boobs squeezing on your cock. And I guess you’ve been looked at my boobs since the door was opened’ – She covering your mouth

‘Yeah, I guess the secret is open now’

You stand up and grab her boobs and place your cook in between.

You had changed your opinion when you start touching it. Her softest spot now is her boobs.

‘Your milks soft as hell. How cow-slut still got milks this soft’

‘I prepare them everyday Daddy. I do it because i hope someone who fuck me good will praise it’

‘So, am I good enough?’

‘I don’t know, you just praise my titties, but you never fuck me’

‘So if I fuck you now, am I pass?’

‘Based on your dirty and raw shit on first round. I guess you will’

You start to fold you own lip, the reaction of enjoyness

‘Why you fold your lips? Did you really love my titties that much?’

‘Yeah. I saw one of my worker had watched your performance, and i can’t stop focus on your bouncing titties. I try to avoid, but your big jiggly milks make me keep watching it. I often watch your fancam when i’m alone, it usually drives me a lot when you shake your body. And now i have a chance to do better than looking.’

‘But Daddy said you love my talents and my hard-working’

‘Ah, that’s the one, but your tits are OUTSTANDING talents’

‘Damn Daddy, you actually hold it’

You start to pacing your hip faster, used your previous cum as lube. Your cock hitting her throat everytime you thrusting.

‘Damn, Daddy’s dick hitting my throat both in and out, love how delivering it is.’

You have pull your cock and paint to her boobs, your glan rubbing her pinky titties

‘You still cum a lot, I love it’

She grabs your post-blasted cock to wipe more seed and swallow.

‘Ah yeah, still tasteful, no loss of flavor’

‘So now, Are you ready to get some fuck, slut?’

‘I guess so Daddy’

Before both of you try to fuck for the first time. Knocking from the door just destroys the atmosphere.

‘Hello, Is Somi still in there?’ - your teammate asking

That’s the voice of your teammate, you recognize it.

‘Y- Yeah, she’s here. But don’t open it yet, let me finish my job here’

You both clean the mess around, prepare before your teammate comes in.

‘That’s sad, i hope we fuck before this’

‘Don’t regret it Daddy, that shit was crazy. I hope we see each other more after this. You really impressed me a lot even without getting your dick in yet. You will impress more if my pussy devours you. But i really want you Daddy. So, if Daddy don’t mind, let’s do some quickie fingering’

‘Aight, bet’

Somi takes off her safety short after she just finish wearing it, to make a quickie fingering with you.

‘You’re really really true slut, take off those pant to get fingered’

‘I actually want it Daddy, don’t mad at me’

‘Daddy won’t mad if the pussy's good’

You take 2 fingers to caress her lips, moving up and down slowly but play more on her clit. Your movement makes Somi moans.

‘Ah, Daddy, it make me f- ah feel so g- ood, you can going hard- er on m- e, destr- oy my pussy’

‘I didn’t moan out before you sucked me. But now i just start fingering you, and you’re already moan. This slut can’t hold it longer. It’s time for Daddy to teach some lesson.’

You start to stuck your fingers into her pussy and going in and out, and other hand crushing her clit like what she desired.

‘Oh my god, your fingers fuck me so good. I can’t wait long enough to get your dick in mine’

‘Slut really can’t be wait. Even though you know that my teammate is here, waiting you to meet her. But you still horny and begged me to finger you’

You quickly fingering her. Her body now intensely shaking more than Vibrator, and looks like she about to cum soon.

‘I’m nearly cum now Daddy, thanks you for everything today, i will never forget this moment’

‘Slut like you will forget it’

‘Noooooo, i’m not forgetting the raw, roughly, degrading moment like this Daddy, you’re really great’

You still continuing the pace until her body trembling and her face relieving. Her pussy is so red, cause by your hand slapping her. That strong quickie caused her to squirt all over the floor.

You both take their pant on and have to clean the mess again.

‘Ok, i hope we will meet again and fuck soon’

‘So, Am i good enough at checking the microphone?’ - Somi asks