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It started at girls’ night, sprawled across your friend Mina’s couch with a bottle of rosé and too many snacks. The conversation had veered from celebrity crushes to… well, less conventional topics.

“Okay, but have you heard of this guy?” Mina giggled, cheeks flushed from the wine. “He’s, like, the hottest audio creator online. Username’s ‘FoxVibe’ or something. His voice? Pure sin. And sometimes he streams—naked, mind you—but never shows his face.”

“Never?”

Your other friend, Lia, chimed in, fanning herself dramatically. “It’s torture. The guy’s got abs for days, but he’s so careful with that camera angle. All you see is his neck down or, like, his lips if you’re lucky.”

You’d laughed, rolling your eyes. “Sounds like a tease.”

“Oh, he is,” Mina said, smirking. “But the kind that makes you beg for more. You should check him out, babes. Live a little.”

You’d brushed it off, but the seed was planted.

That night, alone in your apartment, curiosity got the better of you. You grabbed your phone, opened an incognito tab (because, duh, boundaries), and typed “FoxVibe” into the search bar. The profile popped up on a discreet streaming site, nothing too sketchy, but definitely not your usual Netflix.

The bio was short: “Just a guy with a mic and some thoughts. Let’s have fun.” No face, no name, just a grainy thumbnail of a toned torso… really nice abs.

You clicked an audio first. His voice hit you like a bullet train—low, smooth, with just enough rasp to make your skin prickle. He was describing a scenario, something about a late-night rendezvous, and the way he lingered on certain words… God, it was like he was in the room with you. Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop listening. Then you saw a link to a recent stream. Against your better judgment, you clicked.

The video loaded, and there he was—FoxVibe, completely naked from the waist down, lounging back in a chair with his legs spread.

The camera was angled low, cutting off just below his jaw, but what it captured was explicit enough to make your breath catch. His hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, deliberately, the tip glistening under the soft lighting. He let out a low groan, his voice that same sinful timbre from the audio, murmuring to the camera about how good it felt, how he wished someone was there to take over.

As the stream progressed, he reached for a fleshlight on the desk beside him, slicking it up with lube before sliding his length inside. The wet sounds filled the speakers, paired with his breathy moans and whispered encouragements like “Just like that, baby, take it all.” It was raw, unfiltered, and impossibly hot.

But then something else caught your eye amid the haze—the background. A poster on the wall. A familiar poster. The same one Jeongin had tacked up in his dorm room, a limited-edition print from some obscure anime you both loved.

Your heart stopped. No way. It couldn’t be.

You rewatched the stream, pausing to zoom in on details: the stack of books on the desk, the faint outline of a gaming console. It was Jeongin’s room. Your sweet, clumsy best friend was FoxVibe? The guy your friends were thirsting over?

You slammed your laptop shut, heart racing. This was too much. Jeongin, the guy who once apologized to a chair for bumping into it, was out here making half the internet weak in the knees?

You spent the next two days spiraling, trying to act normal when he texted you about grabbing coffee or sent you a meme. Every time you saw his name pop up, your brain short-circuited, replaying that sinful voice and the way his hips bucked into the toy.

You should’ve confronted him. Should’ve said something. But instead, you did the worst possible thing: you went back to his profile.

Late at night, when your rational brain was offline, you scrolled through his archived videos. One showed him on his knees, pumping his cock with a tight fist, precum dripping down his shaft as he edged himself, his voice cracking with need. Another had him using the fleshlight again, thrusting into it with rhythmic slaps, moaning about how tight it felt, how he imagined it was someone real.

Each video left you aching, your body responding despite the guilt gnawing at you. It was wrong, he was your best friend, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted to see more, to hear more, even as your mind screamed at you to delete the tab.

Then came the fateful night. You’d forgotten—completely forgotten—that Jeongin was supposed to crash at your place. His dorm’s AC had crapped out, and you, being the good friend you were, had given him your door code months ago for emergencies.

“Just let yourself in anytime,” you’d said, not thinking twice.

You were too busy, lost in another one of FoxVibe’s archived videos, the audio playing low through your laptop speakers so as not to disturb the neighbors. The volume was just enough to fill the room with his soft grunts and the slick sounds of him stroking himself, but not loud enough to mask the world entirely.

You were on your bed, propped against the headboard, legs spread wide, one hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers buried deep in your cunt, pumping in and out in time with his movements on screen. Your other hand teased your nipple through your thin tank top, pinching lightly as heat built between your legs. You were soaked, your breaths coming in shallow pants, eyes glued to the way his hand twisted around his cock, speeding up as he chased his release.

“Fuck, I’m close,” his voice groaned from the speakers, and you whimpered softly, curling your fingers to hit that spot inside you, your thumb pressing against your clit.

You didn’t hear the front door unlock with the code he punched in. Didn’t hear his quiet footsteps down the hall.

Jeongin paused in the doorway, backpack still on his shoulder, frozen in place as he took in the scene. There you were, legs splayed open, fingers knuckle-deep in your dripping pussy, moaning to the sound of his voice. He stood there for a full minute, brain short-circuiting, awe-struck and painfully aroused as he watched you pleasure yourself to him—unaware, lost in the moment.

His cheeks flushed, but he couldn’t look away, the sight of you so vulnerable and turned on making his cock strain against his jeans. This was something he’d only ever dreamed about, fantasized in the dark while making those videos, imagining it was you.

It wasn’t until you shifted, your eyes fluttering open for a second amid a particularly loud moan from the video, that you noticed him. Your blood ran cold.

“Jeongin!” you screamed, yanking your fingers free with a wet pop and scrambling to pull a blanket over your lower half, your tank top still askew. Panic flooded you—heart hammering, face burning—as the video kept playing, his recorded groans filling the awkward silence.

“What the fuck? Get out! Oh my God, get out!”

Jeongin didn’t move. His eyes were wide, glasses fogging slightly from his heavy breathing, backpack slipping forgotten to the floor. He was brain-fuzzed, staring at the spot where your hand had just been, the glistening evidence of your arousal still on your fingers.

“I… I…” He swallowed hard, voice hoarse. “You were… to me?”

“Get out!” you repeated, voice shrill with embarrassment, but he just stood there, rooted, his gaze flicking between your flushed face and the laptop where his own voice was still murmuring filthy things.

Finally, he shook his head, stepping inside instead and closing the door behind him.

“Wait, no. That’s… that’s me. You knew?” His voice cracked, a mix of shock and something darker—desire, maybe. He pushed his glasses up, but his hands were trembling.

You clutched the blanket tighter, mortified but unable to deny it. “Yes, okay? I figured it out from your stupid poster! Now leave before I die of embarrassment!”

He took a step closer, his usual shyness warring with the heat in his eyes. “You kept watching. Even knowing it was me. Why?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you shot back, anger bubbling up to mask the humiliation. “You’ve been doing cam shows, Jeongin! Making audios and… and that—” You gestured vaguely at the laptop. “—and you never said a word! We’re best friends!”

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks red, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Because it’s embarrassing! It’s just… a side thing. To blow off steam. I didn’t want you to think I was some perv.” He paused, eyes darkening as he glanced at your bare legs peeking from under the blanket. “But you… you were getting off to it. To me. Knowing it was me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words stuck. The tension in the room was thick, electric, your body still humming from the interrupted pleasure. “It’s not… I shouldn’t have. It’s wrong.”

“Is it?” he challenged, voice dropping lower, closer to that FoxVibe tone. He took another step, now at the foot of the bed. “You looked like you were enjoying it. Fingers deep in your pussy, moaning to my vid—well, my porn.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but there was no heat in it, just a fresh wave of arousal at his words. You were still half-naked, arguing like this wasn’t the most insane situation ever. “You’re the one hiding this whole double life!”

“And you’re the one creeping on your best friend’s porn,” he retorted, but his breathing was ragged, eyes locked on you with an intensity that made your core clench. The back-and-forth was charged, each accusation laced with unspoken want, the air growing heavier.

“Jeongin, I swear—” you started, but he cut you off, lunging forward to grab your wrist gently, pulling you closer across the bed. His other hand cupped your neck, thumb pressing lightly against your pulse, which was racing.

“Say another fucking word,” he growled, voice low and dangerous, FoxVibe fully emerging, “and I’ll lose my cool.”

His eyes bored into yours, dark with lust, and you could feel his restraint cracking—he was inches away, body heat radiating, and you were still exposed from the waist down under that flimsy blanket.

The tension snapped. Instead of pulling away, you crashed your lips against his, desperate and fierce. He groaned into the kiss, immediately deepening it, his hand tightening on your neck as his tongue swept into your mouth. It was all hunger, all the pent-up angst exploding in a frenzy of teeth and lips.

He broke the kiss first, breathing hard, but his eyes were pure fire now. “Fuck this,” he muttered, yanking the blanket away and stripping your tank top off in one swift motion, leaving you completely bare. “Show me,” he demanded, voice commanding like in his streams. “Show me what you were doing to my videos.”

You shivered under his gaze, but defiance sparked. “Only if I get a live show,” you whispered, bold despite your flushed state.

He smirked, shedding his clothes quickly—hoodie, shirt, jeans, boxers—until he stood naked, cock hard and leaking, just like in his videos.

“Deal.” He sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, hand wrapping around his length as he started stroking slowly. “Your turn.”

Heart pounding, you mirrored him, spreading your legs and sliding your fingers back into your soaked cunt, moaning at the relief. You watched each other, his eyes on your fingers pumping in and out, yours on his hand twisting around his shaft, thumb swiping over the tip to spread precum. The room filled with wet sounds and gasps, tension building as you both edged closer.

“Faster,” he ordered, his own pace quickening, hips bucking slightly. “Show me how you touch yourself when you watch me fuck that toy.”

You obeyed, adding a third finger, curling them deep while your other hand rubbed your clit. “Like this… God, Jeongin, your voice always gets me so wet.” He groaned, free hand reaching to pinch your nipple, heightening everything. “You’re so hard for me right now,” you teased, voice breathy.

“Fuck, yeah, all for you,” he rasped, stroking faster. “Keep going, baby. Wanna see you come undone.”

You came first, crying out as your orgasm hit, walls clenching around your fingers. “Jeongin—oh shit, yes!” He followed soon after, spilling over his hand with a guttural moan, but he wasn’t done—his cock stayed hard, eyes hungry.

Before you could recover, you slid off the bed to your knees, pulling him to stand. “My turn,” you said, wrapping your lips around his cock. It was sloppy, messy—saliva dripping as you took him deep, tongue swirling around the head, hands stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you, hips thrusting gently at first, then faster.

“Fuck, your mouth… just like I imagined,” he panted, voice strained. “Look up at me, baby. Let me see those eyes while you blow me.”

You hummed around him, gazing up through your lashes, sucking harder as he groaned.

“That’s it, take it all… you’re so good at this.” His praise made you moan, the vibration pushing him over. He came with a shudder, hot spurts filling your mouth.

“Swallow for me,” he murmured, and you did, licking your lips as he hauled you up for a deep kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

He groaned before breaking the kiss, then he spun you around, bending you over the bed, ass up. His hands gripped your hips, cock teasing your entrance, sliding through your folds without entering. “You want this, huh?” he teased, voice pure dominance. “Tell me how bad.”

“Please, Jeongin,” you whimpered, pushing back against him. “Need you inside me… been thinking about your cock for days.”

He chuckled darkly, dipping just the tip in before pulling out, over and over, edging you until tears pricked your eyes. “So desperate… love hearing you beg.”

Finally, he slammed in, filling you completely, both of you moaning at the stretch. “Fuck, you’re tight. Feel that? Made for me.”

He started thrusting hard from behind, one hand on your back to keep you arched, the other reaching around to rub your clit in tight circles.

“Oh God, right there,” you gasped, gripping the sheets. “Harder—please, don’t stop.”

“Like this?” he grunted, pounding deeper, the slap of skin filling the room. “You’re soaking me, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“So good… you’re so deep,” you moaned, meeting his thrusts. “Jeongin, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he pulled out, flipping you onto your back and hooking your legs over his shoulders before sliding back in. The new angle had him hitting even deeper, his mouth crashing onto yours in a sloppy kiss.

“Look at me,” he demanded between thrusts, hands pinning yours above your head. “Wanna see your face when you come.”

You nodded frantically, nails digging into his hands. “Kiss me again… please.” He obliged, tongue tangling with yours as he slowed to deep, grinding rolls of his hips. “You’re driving me crazy,” you whispered against his lips. “Feels too good.”

“Good,” he murmured, picking up speed, thrusting frantically now. “You’re mine tonight, baby girl. Say it.”

“Yours,” you breathed, the pressure building again. He released your hands to tease your clit, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

With a smooth shift, he sat back, pulling you onto his lap without pulling out. You sank down fully, grinding at first, then bouncing as his hands guided your hips.

“Ride me, just like that,” he groaned, thrusting up to meet you. “Fuck, you look so hot on top.”

You leaned forward, forehead against his, moaning into his mouth. “Jeongin… touch me, please.” His hand slipped between you, fingers on your clit while the other squeezed your breast. “Yes, like that—oh shit, I’m close.”

“Me too,” he panted, pace relentless. “Come with me, baby. Now.”

You shattered together, your walls pulsing around him as he spilled inside, both crying out each other’s names, bodies trembling in unison. He held you close, hips stuttering through the aftershocks, until you both collapsed, spent and sated, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

—

When morning came, you lay there, his arm draped over your waist, his glasses slightly askew. He looked at you with a shy smile, the nerdy Jeongin you knew peeking through. “So… that happened,” he said, laughing softly.

“Yeah,” you replied, still catching your breath from the last round. “And I’m gonna need you to do it again. Like, a lot.”

He grinned, pulling you closer. “Guess I’ll have to start streaming exclusively for you then.”

You laughed, swatting his chest. “You better. I’m your number one fan now.”

Authors note: Lets show this fic some love 🫦 Where are my Innie enthusiasts? This ones for you! And thank you @blxksun for blessing me with his beautiful idea, i hope i did it justice?? ❤️❤️🌼🌼.

I’m still clearing the requests backlog for now so please remember REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!!!

he was going to fulfill her wish, make her cum around his cock one last time and relieve himself at the same time.

another recurring situation was his cute roommate masturbating to the sounds of his hook-ups.

the first time it happened, mattheo swore he was hearing things. he was quite drunk, pounding a stranger into his mattress from behind, curses and moans permeating the air… when he heard a distinct and unfamiliar noise.

your whines.

it was just for a second, a strangled sound of pleasure hitting his ears through the thin wall separating your rooms. but he heard it. it definitely wasn’t from the girl he was plowing into, as her face was shoved deep between his blankets and pillows. it definitely wasn’t him — that high pitch, almost breathy moan came from a woman.

but he brushed it aside at that time, blaming his drunken state and his weird inexplicable attraction for you.

this time, mattheo wasn’t going to let it slide. he heard you for sure, even clearer than before. even as his headboard slammed into the wall, his own grunts joining in into a sinful ballade, he could make out the rustling of sheets and the dainty and muffled moans of yours.

and, fuck, if that wasn’t turning him on even more.

his sweet prude of a roommate was playing with her dripping pussy while he was fucking some rando he found at the club.

at first, he slowed down. just enough to listen.

your little noises drifted through the paper-thin wall, not loud enough to be deliberate, but not quiet enough to escape him. and there they were… sugary, stuttered gasps, the kind of sounds you probably tried to swallow in your pillow, but failed miserably because you were too far gone.

mattheo’s cock throbbed violently inside the passed-out girl beneath him, making him groan loudly. he was still moving — rutting into her like he promised he would — but his mind wasn’t in this room anymore.

his mind moved into your room.

he imagines you curled up under your covers, your tiny hand between your thighs, clumsy fingers working your virgin pussy while you pretend he can’t hear you. he pictures your lips parted, head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as you let out another soft moan, circling your puffy clit with unsure fingers.

the image alone had his balls tightening.

“fuck…” he moans low, the sound more guttural than intended, his eyes squeezing shut to preserve that lewd picture of you in his mind.

his thrusts picked up again, harder this time, chasing the vision he’s painting in his head. because it’s not this stranger he wants — it’s you.

his shy, polite, good girl.

the one who blushes red like a beet whenever his towel slips too low after a shower.

the one who can’t meet his eyes when he asks about her day, staring at her feet the whole time.

the one who’s never had a man touch her… but touches herself at night while he’s breaking his bed with someone else.

suddenly, mattheo gripped the random girl’s hips like a vice, fucking her with more vigor, fingers digging deep into her skin from need. but it’s your name he nearly moaned into the dark as his cock is swallowed whole. his jaw flexed, his body burning with raw desire, and, in that moment, he didn’t care if you knew he hears you. in fact, he wants you to know.

he wants you to realize that he knows exactly what you’re doing — and that he’s imagining himself between your thighs instead of this useless woman under him.

he hissed through his teeth, hips stuttering hard as his orgasm was approaching rapidly. in his mind, it was no longer the drunk girl clenching around him: it was your tight, wet cunt struggling to take him. it was your voice crying out his name, your body trembling against his.

and fuck if that didn’t make him want to break down the wall between your rooms.

he bit down on his bottom lip, muscles all over his body flexing, trying to hold out just a little longer. not for the girl passed out beneath him — no. she was nothing but a warm sleeve around his cock.

it was for you.

because your little whimpers were getting sharper now. hurried. desperate.

you were close.

mattheo could picture it too clearly: your thighs quivering, toes curling under the blanket, pillow smothering those pitiful cries as you worked your little cunt the wrong way. he could tell by the uneven rhythm of your sounds that you didn’t know how to touch yourself properly — not enough pressure, not the right speed.

sweet little thing, trying to chase something you’ve never really had.

and it ruined him.

his hips snapped forward, hard and fast, chasing his own release while he tuned himself to your needy gasps through the wall. every stroke had him gritting his teeth, growls vibrating deep in his chest.

then it happened — your whine cracked, sharp and broken.

“nooo–” you cried, soft and crushed, like a child denied candy.

his cock jolted violently.

you’d lost it. your orgasm slipped through your fingers like sand, and the sound of your frustration, your raw desperation, pushed mattheo over the edge.

with a guttural curse, he yanked himself out of the stranger, fisting his cock rough and fast over her body. he came hard, hot ropes spilling all over her stomach, but his eyes closed shut, disconnecting from reality.

not a thought for the limp body under him. not a thought for anything but you, one door away, trashing into your sheets, unsatisfied and needy.

his breathing slowed, sweat dripping down his temple, cock pulsing in his fist.

fuck.

he wanted to go in there right now, shove your hand away, and show you exactly how it’s supposed to feel.

but for tonight, he just leaned against the wall, smirking to himself in the dark, already plotting how to catch you with your guard down.

and give you what you wanted all along.

•••

his plan will work. his plan will work. his plan will work.

his plan has to work.

mattheo definitely used all his brain cells to concoct this plan — after a night out, pretend you brought someone home, and then catch your roommate in the act. it was dumbass-proof, guaranteeing there would be no major consequences if it failed.

but mattheo was still scared of that possibility.

even now, naked in all his glory, leaning over his bed in a make-shift doggy position, dragging his leaking cock across his mattress, making the headboard bounce on the wall, his mind was clouded by failure.

he has yet to hear you make some noise.

were you already sleeping? or were you too smart to fall for his trap, keeping quiet on purpose?

“shit, shit.” he pushed his hips harder into the bed, pressing his palm over his cock and creating a tighter cavern for him to rut into.

it was warm and sticky thanks to his body temperature and the creamy lube he used, but he just couldn’t get his imagination going. the stillness of your room was eating him alive.

why was he so fixated on you anyway? he could have any woman he wanted, but here he was, pretending to fuck someone in order to stir a reaction in you.

one more pass of his mushroomy tip through the fake hole and he would sto–

“ah.”

that was you.

that small gasp of pleasure hit him like a truck, making his hips twitch forward in relief and need. his cock slipped against his palm with renewed vigor, throbbing at the mere confirmation that you were masturbating.

“there she is.” he muttered with a grin, chest heaving as he thrust faster into the sticky creases of his mattress, headboard banging harder against the wall. “fucking knew you couldn’t resist, angel.”

mattheo was louder on purpose now — pressing down harder on his cock, groaning rougher, barely biting down curses that he wanted you to hear. he pressed his ear to the wall, catching every tiny whimper you tried to swallow, and then moaned into it like a pornstar on pay day.

“yeah, touch that little pussy for me.” he rasped, voice low and shameless, now no longer caring about his plan. he knew you’re attentive to his every word. he knew you’d listen well.

“bet those fingers don’t know what the fuck they’re doing… bet you’re all sloppy and messy already, hm?”

his hips jolted, cock sliding through the lube-slicked valley faster, fat tip smearing more precum into the sheets. he grunted, loud and guttural, chasing his own filthy fantasy.

you whimpered again, muffled under your pillow, and mattheo’s eyes rolled back.

“fuckkk, that’s it– don’t hide from me now, sweetheart. let me hear it. let me hear how needy you are while you pretend you’re not thinking about me.”

his free hand slapped against the wall separating you two, loud, obscene, the sound echoing through the room. he wanted you to hear how worked up he was, how unhinged he sounded with your name bubbling on his tongue.

“you hear me? i could make you cum in ten fucking seconds. you’re there rubbing your clit like a dumb little virgin while i’m here with my cock in my hand, imagining your cunt choking on me.”

your breath hitched, now hit with the confirmation you’ve long suspected — he knew what you were doing. mattheo could tell by the sudden pause in your sounds exactly what you were thinking.

this is wrong. i should stop. he is my roommate.

but his smirk only widened, cruel and delighted. he won’t allow such thoughts to dirty your mind.

“ohhh, i know you’re listening. i can fucking hear it too. you wanna see me stroke my cock, sweetheart? wanna see how hard you make me?”

his palm tightened, hips pumping his cock harder, his voice breaking into messy growls.

“say it.” he demanded suddenly, thrusting harder against the mattress like he was buried inside you already. “say you want me to fuck you, and i’ll tear this fucking wall down.”

you let out a broken whine, shaky and embarrassed. but god, it was enough to make his balls draw tight, aching to be emptied in your warm cunt. he couldn’t hold it in much longer.

“fucking hell.” mattheo groaned, hips stuttering, hand squeezing his cock as cum shamelessly spurted across his sheets. “come on… one word and i will fuck your brains out.”

and when your moans cracked, shaping babbles into his name — sweet, desperate, pungent with arousal — he laughed low and filthy, abandoning his bed at once.

“that’s my good girl.”

•••

mattheo didn’t bother knocking.

the second he heard your whimper break into his name, he was already crossing the hall, cock still half-hard, dangling between his legs. the knob of your door twisted under his hand like it had been waiting for him all along, and then–

your door creaked open.

you froze mid-motion, your blanket pulled halfway up your body, your hand stuffed between your trembling thighs. wide, wet eyes snapped up to him, glassy with shame and lust.

“ma-mattheo.” you squeaked, clutching the covers like your life depends on it, trying to hide from him.

but the tremor in your voice gave you away. you were hot. bothered. aching.

he leaned against the frame for a split second, smug grin cutting across his face as if he’d finally caught his prey.

“knew it.” he murmured, voice low and rough, like gravel and honey, already breaching into your room. “knew you touched yourself to me, angel.”

your lips parted, fumbling for denial, but nothing came out. you only stared at him with your widened pupils, eyes darting anywhere but his lower region.  he took one lazy step into your room, then another, shutting the door behind him with a click that made your stomach drop.

“move the blanket.”

his tone was sharp, and you obeyed instantly, pulling the fabric down with trembling fingers. he climbed onto your bed without asking, the mattress dipping under his weight until his body was caging yours. his scent hit you — smoke, sweat, and sin — and your thighs pressed tighter together, trying to hide the big sticky patch staining your panties.

mattheo chuckled, low and wicked, eyes grazing every bit of exposed skin.

“oh, angel.” he cooed, cum-stained fingers reaching out and brushing your flushed cheek. “you’re soaked through. all for me, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding before you could stop yourself. his hand slid down, slow and teasing, until his digits were curling around your knees, prying your legs apart. he settled between them instantly, making sure you don’t close them back, and dragged his thumbs over the damp cotton clinging to your nether lips.

the sound you made was pathetic. sweet. his cock twitched between his legs, already pulsing for more.

“fuck.” he groaned, pressing his fingers harder against your cunt, parting your lips and letting more slick stain your panties.

“virgin little pussy, dripping just from listening to me? you’re gonna ruin me, sweetheart.”

you shook your head weakly, words tumbling out broken. “i-i don’t know what i’m doing wrong…”

“shhh.” he kissed your right knee, wet lips soothing your heated skin. “that’s why i’m here. let me take care of you.”

then his hand was in your panties, pulling them off in one swift motion. after discarding them, his experienced fingers found your bare slit, gliding through the abundant slick. teasing your throbbing hole before circling your clit with a feather-light touch. you jolted from his touch, curving forward and finding shelter into his shoulder.

“so sensitive…” he purred, watching your every twitch, enjoying the way your heavy breath fanned over his skin.

“makes sense. never been touched, hm? all this time, living with me, and you’ve been keeping this sweet little cunt to yourself.”

one finger pressed inside, slow, stretching you knuckle by knuckle. you moaned like it hurt, nails involuntarily digging into his shoulder, but your hips bucked up, begging for more.

“greedy girl.” he teased, pushing deeper, curling into a spongy spot until your back arched off him, straight back into your pillows. “tight as fuck, and i’ve only got one finger in. how the hell are you gonna take my cock?”

his cock?

you shook your head frantically, babbling nonsense — half of them were pleas, half refusals. but mattheo only grinned, prodding a second finger alongside the first, scissoring your virgin cunt open while his thumb rolled over your swollen clit. better than you ever could.

the sound of your wetness filled the room shortly after, obscene and sticky, more and more of your arousal gushing out. your head was thrown back into your pillows, your hand draped over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your whimpers. mattheo’s eyes darkened, displeased with your shyness.

“no, angel. let me hear it. moan for me louder. don’t you dare hide from me.”

you didn’t have time to complain. your head tossed back more, broken cries spilling out as three fingers thrusted faster, harder, finding another spot inside you that made your thighs clamp around his wrist.

mattheo growled low in his chest, proud of your volume, absentmindedly rutting against your sheets just to relieve a bit the ache in his cock. his next load will be inside you, he shouldn’t get carried away.

“shitt, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” his lips brushed your knee again, peppering comforting kisses for a second time that night.

“gonna cum on my fingers like the dirty little virgin you are.”

at that, your walls fluttered helplessly, your body giving in and releasing all over his hand. mattheo didn’t stop there though, his fingers dragging you over the edge and helping you ride out your first orgasm.

when you finally slumped, chest heaving, body trembling and ruined, he pulled his slick fingers out and licked them clean, humming low in approval.

“sweetest fucking thing i’ve ever tasted.” he rasped, eyes locked on yours, feral and hungry. “now for the main course.”

he leaned closer, his cock now straining tall against his stomach, pressing hot into your inner thighs.

“angel…” he murmured, dipping his head lower to whisper in your ear. “i’m splitting you open on my cock.”

mattheo didn’t give you time to protest — not really. his lips brushed your temple, his voice low and certain, dripping with carnal hunger.

“you trust me, yeah?”

your breath hitched at his words, but you nodded into his shoulder. you did trust him. even if your body was trembling, even if you’d never let anyone this close before, you trusted him.

you wanted this as much as he did.

“don’t be scared.” he murmured, encouraging you one last time. “i’ll take it slow. i’ll make it feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”

your heart was hammering against your ribcage, but your thighs parted wider, your body betraying you before your voice could. he smiled briefly, dragging the fat head of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness. the feeling of just that had your breath hitching.

then he pressed forward–

“mattheo–” your voice cracked into a whimper, nails scraping his shoulders as his cock pushed at your entrance.

you were so tight he could barely get the head in, and his jaw clenched, sweat glistening on his temple as he held himself back.

“shhh.” he soothed, dragging one hand down your bodies to rub at your clit. “that’s it. you’re doing so good. just breathe for me.”

bit by bit, he eased into you — his thick length spreading your untouched walls, your body clinging and resisting all at once. you cried out, the sting of the stretch sharp, but his hands eased into yours, intertwining your fingers and pinning them into above your head.

“good girl, that’s it! so fucking perfect for me.”

when he finally bottomed out, you sobbed at the fullness. his cock was deep, impossibly so, pressing right against your cervix and making your tummy flutter. mattheo stilled in that position, letting you adjust to the feeling, even if he so desperately wanted to pound into you like there’s no tomorrow.

“see that?” he rasped, one hand sliding down, pressing gently on your lower belly. the outline of his cock bulged under his palm, and you gasped, eyes flying wide at the added pressure.

“that’s me, right here. deep inside your tight little pussy. you’re stuffed with me, angel.”

the revelation made you moan, your cunt clenching helplessly around him in excitement.

he took that as a sign and rolled his hips into you. slowly at first — in, out, each stroke dragging against your fluttering walls, your body giving way to pleasure with every stroke. the ache melted away, replaced by a pulsing heat that made your back arch, your legs tremble around his waist.

“damn–” mattheo hissed, his control slipping as your tightness milked him. “you’re choking my cock, angel. gonna keep me buried here forever.”

your nails dug into his shoulders, your voice breaking as you moaned his name, needy, shamelessly. his pace picked up fast, hips rocking into you with more force, the bulge in your tummy pushing up every time he bottomed out.

“look at that.” he grunted, pressing down again so you could feel the thick ridge of him pounding into you. “so deep you can feel me in your stomach. you like that, don’t you?”

“yes– mattheo, yes, yes, yes–” you babbled, tears wetting your lashes from the overwhelming stretch and bliss.

you were to reach your climax soon, he could feel that in the way your body was reacting. and it was to be expected for your first time.

he fucked you through it, lips on your jaw, your throat, whispering filth into your ear to push you over the edge.

“my shy little virgin. moaning like a whore now, just for me. never gonna want anyone else after this. you’re mine.”

your body broke then, a second orgasm ripping through you with a loud, helpless cry. your walls clamped down around him, gushing slick all over his cock, and mattheo lost it too — hips stuttering, muscles tightening — before he spilled inside you with a guttural groan.

hot cum filled your cunt, so much you swore you could feel it pool deep in your belly. his cock jerked with every spurt, pushing it deeper and deeper inside.

“ah, ah–”

mattheo stayed there, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to your shoulder as his breath came ragged. his hands dropped to your tummy, rubbing the swell where his cock and seed filled you.

he did it.

he finally had you.

“–so perfect.” he mumbled into your neck, exhausted yet fulfilled, warmth spreading through him. “knew you’d be perfect, my angel.”

©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

The club is packed in a semi-calm way. Not overly rowdy with rainbow lights like other clubs. Your ex used to call it “fancy chaos” but you figured that was a lie since he was so good at those. You're looking around as soon as you get in but try not to make it obvious. The app says he's here. He said he'd wear Gucci and you figured he was a showy asshole—that's why you picked him. 

You don't see him by the bar, or the tables, the dance floor is a mess and—

“Looking for me?” You jump, turn fast with a hand over your chest. 

“Jeez—” there he is. Tall enough, Gucci jacket and matching pants. Perfect for the club, perfect for you.  

“Scared you?” You nod, taking a slower breath. “I meant to.” Oh, he's weird? The secret kind that sneaks up on you… you’ve encountered worse. He holds out his hand and you take it slowly. Very slowly. 

“Lee Minho, but you knew that.” He doesn't smile, isn't condescending, just straight to the point. You can work with that. You tell him your name and he hums like he already had your star chart memorized. 

You get right to it after that. “My ex is over there, I was thinking—” he cuts you off, smooth, laces his fingers with yours

“Follow my lead.” 

“Oh… okay.”

He starts leading you across the dance floor, hand warm and it's now that you get to take him in… this man is thick. Chest and thighs and just wow. 

When you get to the bar your ex is flirting with some girl while her boyfriend right beside her, fitting. Minho leans on the bar facing him and turns your back to him, he guides you closer, close enough to look comfortable. Close enough to look taken. 

“If this is going to work you have to look madly in love with me.” He doesn't smile, he smirks, big difference. There's something dark to it. Something that's five steps ahead. 

He's right though. You snap yourself out of staring and smile at him, a real smile. You lean a touch closer, lay your hand closer to his and laugh at nothing at all. 

Lights, camera, action. 

Minho smiles now, perfect and wide and says the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard. 

"You ever think about how fucked we’d be if horses were carnivores?” you lose it, cause he's right and also wow. That laugh is just what he needed, though it is beautifully distracting. Minho looks down the bar and your ex is looking over like he’s trying to figure something out. Good. Minho goes again. 

"Imagine being the first person to see a cow and deciding to drink whatever came out of it.”

You cover your mouth this time, leaning into him. “Ew.” 

“Exactly.” He hums, eyes lighting up a bit. Gosh, you do have a pretty laugh, he's sure he'd recognize it too. “Imagine that. Warm white stuff from under a cow… let me drink it.”

“I mean, it's not too different from other things.” You say it before you can access the sense to stop. Minho's eyebrows raise, his head tilts a bit, and that damned smirk is back. 

“Oh, we're gonna have some fun.” Then he raises his hand for the bartender. “Buckle up, buttercup.”

Your ex sees him raise his hand and his reluctance tells Minho that he figured out it's you. He sends a co-worker over but Minho keeps looking at your ex. “Mm mm.” He motions towards him, smiling. “We want him, right princess?” Minho's hand finds your waist, sweet and warm and a little dizzying. You play along, nodding sweetly. 

“Yeah, he makes my drink perfectly every time. I think it's called—”

“Denial is a river?” Minho suggests smoothly and you have to bite your lip not to laugh. 

“That one, yeah.” The man behind the bar couldn't care less. He calls over your ex and tells him that he'll switch with him. Minho sees the moment your old flame tried to make himself burn bright enough to miss. 

“What can I get you?” His voice makes something happen in your chest. Not good, not anymore. It's more like anxiety. You don't know how but Minho notices, he squeezes your waist just slightly and you look up at him to find him already looking at you. 

“What do you want, baby?” He looks over at your ex. “Give her a second, yeah? She's the cute thoughtful type.” Minho walks you through some drinks options niceeee and slow and affectionate. At one point you find yourself moving in closer. There's something about him that's magnetic, like he's making space for you to slip right into him. 

“Give me something strong.” You look your ex in the eyes when you say it, borrowing some of Minho's courage to throw in a smile too. “Shaken and make it pretty.”

You can see that he has something he'd like to say, maybe ask why you're here or when you moved on. It's been months and he's been with half this damn club, now it's your turn even if it's fake. Minho coos something sweet when you finally order, hand wandering a bit lower on your hip for show… you think.

“I'll make mine simple.” the smile that he gives your ex belongs to an anime villain.  “I'll have a gin martini. Hendrick's if you have it. Stirred for exactly thirty seconds, not shaken. Extra cold. Lemon twist, no olives. In a chilled Nick and Nora glass if possible. If not, a coupe is fine. And could I get a sidecar of sparkling water with a lemon wedge? No seeds with the lemon, please.”

Your throat burns from trying not to laugh. Your ex looks at him and just stares for a second before asking “are you serious?” Minho's smile drops clean off his face, he stares, then asks, “do I look like I'm kidding?”

You're left alone in an instant. He starts making your drinks while you laugh into Minho's chest. 

“What the hell is that order?”

“My usual.” He teases. His hand smooths up your back now and you stand straighter at the feeling “Hm?”

He looks at you like he's actually trying to memorize something. His fingers tickle down your spine and you squirm a bit. “Sensitive?”

You hum a pathetic sound then try to hide it. Minho presses his fingertips a bit firmer, “Cute.” then his hand is gone. You almost protest the absence, almost grab his wrist, but then your drinks arrive. 

Your's first, then his. Neither of you look at your ex anymore. You still feel the ghost of his fingers tickling your spine and Minho's suddenly very interested to see where else makes a pretty girl squirm. 

“Ya’ll got a bathroom?” Minho asks, still looking at you for a lingering second before tilting his head expectantly at your ex. 

“Yeah.” He doesn't say anything else and Minho scoffs. 

“Finish the job, you look like you're quick. C'mon.” You laugh this time. Hard. So hard that you snort. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth and the corner of Minho's mouth turns up just a touch. He likes that more than he expected. 

Your ex hates this, his face says it all. “They're to the right down the hall.”

“Single stalls? One room?”

“Stalls.” he answers, fed up. 

“Am I bothering you?” Minho asks, voice a little meaner now. “Cause I can take my pretty girl to the bathroom and leave you to your lonesome.”

He glares between you and Minho, then again. “No sex allowed in the bathrooms.”

Minho hums, standing straighter with his hand nearly on your ass. “Who said anything about sex?” You're just impressed by how well he's showing off. This is money well spent. Minho fixes his jacket, flashing the Gucci stripes a bit and enjoying your exes glare. “But don't worry, she'll be quick.” You look up at Minho at that one. You'll be quick? Not him? You don't miss that distinction. 

Minho slaps some bills onto the counter and waves your boyfriend off. Once he’s gone he turns back to you, he doesn’t get to say a thing before you bring it up. “I'll be quick?” You turn into him, standing impossibly close now. Minho looks at you, eyes on yours. 

“If you're as sensitive there as you are on your spine, yeah, you will be.” You're sure your neck is starting to flush, ears too. It's hot, maybe it's your drink that you haven't even tried yet. You just need an excuse. 

“What's your plan here?” You bite your lip and Minho's eyes drop to it. He takes a second, just a quick quiet second before cupping your chin and tilting it up a bit. Just a bit. 

“The plan's to make you come.” Yeah. You're definitely flushed. “If that's what you want. I think I can make it worth your money.”

You finally lay a hand on his chest, messing with the buttons on his jacket. “You think you can?”

Minho raises an eyebrow, hums an amused laugh then looks out to the dance floor for a second, just a second. “Don't challenge me, I'll get carried away. 

Your hand slips inside his jacket, so close to the warm skin beneath his shirt. Teasingly close. “Maybe I want you to.” 

That does it. “We're going. Now.” He doesn't have to tell you twice. You let him take your hand again and lead you towards the hall opposite the bathrooms. You look back, confused.

“Where are we going?” He doesn't slow, just calls back an answer. 

“I'm not fucking you in a bathroom.” Aw, he's considerate. 

Minho leads you towards an empty VIP booth with a half cleared table. There's barely a curtain and it's busy enough that none of the drunk partygoers around you would be able to tell that you're ruining your panties. Minho slides in first, guiding you behind him and shifts you onto his lap. There's more than enough room and you're more than comfortable taking up space like this. 

“Be honest.” Minho looks up at you with eyes that shine unfairly bright. “Does this cost extra?” He scoffs, hands smoothing up your waist. He watches his fingers brush over the curves of your dress. 

“I'm not guacamole.” You laugh again, hard just like before. Minho smiles, actually smiles. “That damn laugh.” Then he's kissing you. His mouth seals over yours in a hot wet kiss that makes you moan into him. His hands slot on your waist and yours on his chest. Your hips move in small rocking motions with every kiss. You can't help it. 

Minho breaks the kiss first, laying his forehead against yours while guiding your rocking into full on riding. “Pretty girl.” He situated you so that you're straddling one thigh, hips rocking over the rough denim. Your panties are growing stickier by the second. The pressure feels like sex itself. “Pretty laugh makes me wanna hear her moan.”

“Wanna hear you too.” Minho smiles, kisses you harder just cause that was so damn cute of you.

“We're gonna take care of you tonight, kitten.” Then his hands start guiding firmer. Your sopping core is dragged forward, back, forward. Your panties roll to the side themselves and Minho presses up for perfect pressure. 

You swallow a sound and he squeezes your hip. “Nuh uh.” he starts bouncing his leg a bit, making himself vibrate against you. “Let me hear it, right in my ear, c'mere.” 

You lean close enough for your lips to brush the shell of his ear, close enough to smell his shampoo and cologne—and you moan. Sweet and a little deep and Minho swears it's perfect. 

“Oh, baby.” He guides you faster, your grinding turns into dry humping and moans turn into whines. There's a wet spot on Minho's jeans from his cock leaking through layers of fabric, then another from your flooding cunt. 

“Minho—” that gets a groan from him. His hands cupping your ass now, kneading and squeezing while you whisper and babble against his neck. “I'm gonna cum.” 

He keeps pace, doesn't change it, something your ex could never seem to do. That alone makes you wet his jeans. It's a gush, not squirting but just as messy. Minho fucking loves it. 

“She's so messy.” You pull back and look at him with dazed eyes and wet lips. “Let's see”

His hand finds wet flesh under your dress, swiping his fingers over your clit, then small circles. Your spine bows, hips bare down, still sensitive from your high. You whimper, he hums. 

“Pretty kitty is sensitive, huh?” The tips of his fingers press inside then back. “Can you take two?” You nod before sense can catch up. 

Minho likes that. “Good girl.” Then he's pressing in. His fingers sink deep into gooey flesh and your mouth parts with no sound. It's sensitive. It's tight and burns so good. 

“Minho, m’ gonna make a mess.” He looks at you like he's waiting to be told when he asked. His fingers move once, pull back and sink. 

“Give me something to clean up.” It's over after that. He moves like he wants to see you split in two. 

You're straddling both his thighs now, spread open by him. The squelch your cunt cries out is obscene, so much so, that someone at a neighboring booth looks up to the ceiling like they heard it. You can't help but chuckle, and Minho stops completely. 

“Do that again.” You tilt your head, mutter a small “huh?” But he's already tickling your spine. You yelp and chuckle, nails digging into his shoulder.

Minho's teeth sink into his bottom lip and his fingers curl inside of you, deeper, perfect. “So tight when she laughs.” You're holding on by a thread. Your foreheads on his again, he's talking you through it with sweet names and praise. 

“That’s it, keep it up, baby.”

“Gonna make me cum, looking so pretty...”

“Gimme another one, kitty, c'mon.”

Your orgasm is creeping up on you, each and every methodical curl of his fingers is bringing you closer and closer, you're close, so close.

“Min—” you hide your face in his neck and let out a wet and long moan. Drooling a bit into the collar of his jacket. Minho's fingers keep going, helping you ride it out, but his rhythm falters. His breath catches and he groans something broken deep in his chest. “Did you just…”

His breathing picks up just a touch uneven. You pull back, look down, and both wet spots are spreading. He came in his jeans. Finished untouched. Unreal. Impressive. 

Minho looks up at you, eyelids fluttering like he's still a bit dazed when he says— “kiss me.” 

You do. You meet him in the middle and kiss him softly. Soft enough to hear his slight hum when your warmth settles. “Perfect.” He murmurs then kisses you again. 

“He's” kiss “an” kiss “idiot” 

That makes you chuckle against him, soft and sweet. Minho pulls back then, looking at you for a moment. You’ve cracked him a bit. He blames that laugh. He loves it a little too much for this to be fake. 

“So.” You murmur, rubbing the tip of your nose over his. “Venmo or Zelle?”

Minho hums, face serious, humorless. “Your number.” You lift your brows at him, smile a bit and he gives you that damn smirk. “I'll take that instead."

a/n: I have been soooooo in my head about this series. I hope that you enjoyed!

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The Uber stopped in front of a massive dark iron gate flanked by well-kept walls covered in greenery. Two serious-looking security guards checked Mina’s QR code carefully, scanned the inside of the car with flashlights, and finally let you through.

The illuminated stone driveway curved between palm trees and modern sculptures before revealing the mansion — a striking contemporary building with clean lines, floor-to-ceiling glass, exposed concrete, brushed steel, and rich wood. An infinity pool on the side seemed to spill straight into the city lights and the bay below. The music reached you muffled but insistent: sensual R&B blended with deep electronic beats that you could feel in your chest.

The moment you stepped inside the main hall, the impact hit you hard.

The space was enormous. Double-height ceilings, massive crystal chandeliers slowly turning and casting purple, gold, and soft red reflections. Entire walls of glass offered a breathtaking panoramic view of Rio at night — from Sugarloaf Mountain to Christ the Redeemer and the illuminated coastline. The air conditioning was refreshingly cool against the humid heat outside, but the scent was intoxicating: aged whiskey, fine Cuban cigars, expensive colognes, gourmet appetizers, and a faint hint of sea breeze drifting in from the open terraces.

You felt like an intruder the second your heels touched the black marble floor.

Mina, of course, walked in like she owned the place. Within five minutes she had greeted a famous lingerie model, laughed with a well-known soap opera actor, and secured two sophisticated drinks at the polished black marble bar — a perfectly balanced cosmopolitan for you and a vibrant blue cocktail for herself.

“Drink slowly, but drink. Loosen up those tense shoulders. You look like you’re about to take a college entrance exam,” Mina teased, elbowing you lightly while scanning the room. “See that guy in the white shirt over there? European football player. Filthy rich. And that blonde in the gold dress? She travels by private jet. Let’s mingle a bit.”

Mina was unstoppable. She was your complete opposite: extremely outgoing, zero filter, naturally funny in a way that disarmed everyone. As you moved through the crowd, she effortlessly struck up conversations — complimenting dresses, cracking light jokes, exchanging numbers like it was nothing. At one point she disappeared for nearly twenty-five minutes with a quick “Just saying hi to someone, don’t disappear!” leaving you standing near the bar, stirring your drink and trying not to look awkward or lost.

You felt eyes on you. Some curious, some appraising, some interested. A woman in a gold dress looked you up and down. An older man in an expensive suit smiled and raised his glass, but you quickly looked away, cheeks warming.

When Mina finally returned, her eyes were sparkling with excitement, practically bouncing in her heels.

“Girl, you are NOT going to believe what I pulled off! Come with me right now!”

“Mina, wait… I’m fine here at the bar—”

It was useless. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you through the crowded room, weaving between dancing couples, loud laughing groups, and waiters carrying silver trays of colorful drinks and canapés. You climbed a few steps to a more elevated, semi-private area — a beautiful open terrace with an even more spectacular view of Christ the Redeemer and Guanabara Bay glittering in the distance. A large noble wood table was surrounded by comfortable beige and black leather sofas, lit by warm indirect lighting.

And there they were.

Hyunjin, the South Korean idol who split his time between Brazil and Asia and served as a global ambassador for luxury brands, reclined with his long black hair loose, laughing softly as he swirled a glass of rosé champagne. Beside him sat Changbin, a high-performance athletic trainer and former MMA fighter, his muscular build evident under a fitted black dress shirt. Minho owned an exclusive network of dance and pilates studios. Seungmin was a renowned corporate lawyer handling multimillion-dollar contracts. Felix worked as a performance engineer for racing cars. And at the center, commanding the entire space like the world was his personal playground…

Bang Chan.

The pilot. The Australian-Korean driver dominating motorsport categories across Latin America with strong international prospects. Athletic and well-defined from intense daily training, wearing a black dress shirt with several buttons open, revealing tanned skin and a thin gold chain. Dark tailored trousers that accentuated powerful thighs. Tousled light brown hair, sharp jawline, and piercing dark eyes. He was laughing at something Felix said, his deep, slightly raspy voice carrying, but the moment Mina pulled you closer to the table, his gaze locked onto you.

And didn’t let go.

“Everyone! This is my best friend I told you about!” Mina announced proudly, with zero filter. “I practically had to drag her here crying. She hates parties, hates crowds, hates all this glamour… but I insisted. Be nice to her, okay? She’s shy, sweet, and amazing.”

Hyunjin smiled warmly and elegantly.

“Welcome to the circus. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Champagne?”

You murmured a soft “thank you” and sat on the edge of the sofa, the cool leather pressing against your thighs. Your heart raced. Mina threw herself into the group as if she’d known them forever and immediately took over the scene.

She launched into a hilarious story about the time you two got lost at a rave years ago, imitating voices, making exaggerated faces, and gesturing dramatically. The whole group burst out laughing. Changbin slapped the table, Hyunjin covered his mouth with crescent-moon eyes, and even the more reserved Seungmin laughed genuinely. Mina was unbeatable at this — she could turn any situation into her own entertaining show.

Meanwhile, you stayed quieter, smiling politely and answering only when directly asked. But Bang Chan gave you no room to fade into the background.

He leaned forward, elbow resting on his thick thigh, and studied you openly. His gaze traveled slowly and deliberately: your crossed legs, hips, waist, the way the red dress outlined your chest, your neck, your lips, and finally your eyes. When they returned to your face, a slow, confident, and dangerously charming smile curved his lips.

“So you were dragged here against your will…” His voice was low and smooth, carrying that attractive Australian-Korean accent. “Feeling like an outsider in the middle of all this luxury, huh?”

You offered a small, shy smile and shrugged lightly.

“A little. Actually… a lot. This isn’t really my kind of environment.”

“I can tell,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting higher. His eyes sparkled with amusement and something darker, more intense. “But damn… you look incredible in that red dress. You stand out from everyone else here — in the best possible way.”

Mina, catching the comment, let out a bright laugh and pointed at him.

“Oh my God, Chan! Going straight for it! He’s like that — no brakes. If he makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll throw champagne in his face.”

The group laughed. Chan chuckled along, deep and raspy, but his eyes never left you.

“What’s your name?” he asked directly.

You told him.

He repeated it slowly, tasting each syllable as if savoring how it might sound in other contexts.

“Beautiful. It suits you perfectly.” He took a slow sip of his amber drink, still watching you. “I’m Chan.”

“I know who you are,” you replied softly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Do you?” His smile widened, turning more predatory and intrigued. “And even knowing that, you’re treating me like any regular guy at the party. That’s interesting. Usually by now women are trying to sit on my lap or slipping me their numbers. You barely hold my gaze. Are you challenging me on purpose?”

You turned your face slightly and met his eyes just inches away. His cologne wrapped around you — dark wood, leather, warm spices, and a distinctly masculine note that made your stomach tighten.

“I’m not challenging anyone. I’m just not the type to jump into anyone’s lap just because they’re famous.”

Chan bit his lower lip slowly, his eyes darkening with clear interest and challenge.

“Good. Because I don’t want just anyone. I like the chase. I like earning it.” His voice dropped lower. “And you… look like a very tempting prize worth every dangerous turn on the track.”

The tension between you two was already thick, electric, even as the rest of the group continued laughing and chatting around you. Mina shot you a knowing, mischievous look from across the table and raised her eyebrows repeatedly as if saying, “Go for it, don’t miss this.”

The night had barely begun, but you already felt like you’d entered a high-speed curve with no seatbelt.

Bang Chan didn’t seem like the kind of man who gave up easily on something he wanted.

And from the hungry, possessive way he looked at you now, it was clear he wanted you.

---

𝟎𝟎:𝟓𝟎,𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨

The energy around the table had settled into a comfortable rhythm, the kind that only happened when the right mix of people clicked. Mina was the undeniable star of the moment. She had launched into yet another story — this time about the disastrous “romantic dinner” the two of you had attempted two years ago. The tale involved burnt garlic bread, a smoke alarm, panicked neighbors, and an eventual visit from the fire department. She told it with perfect timing, exaggerated gestures, and voices that had the entire group laughing hard.

Changbin was nearly crying, slapping the wooden table. Hyunjin covered his mouth, eyes curved into perfect crescents, while Felix kept asking for more details in his deep voice. Even Seungmin, usually the most composed, let out genuine laughs between sips of his drink. Minho watched everything with an amused smirk, occasionally adding dry commentary that made the story even funnier.

You laughed along, genuinely entertained by your best friend’s performance. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the group, your awareness kept drifting back to the man sitting close beside you.

Bang Chan.

He lounged against the leather sofa with the relaxed confidence of someone who truly belonged in every room he entered. One arm rested along the back of the couch, fingers inches from your bare shoulder. His black shirt stretched across his broad chest and strong shoulders, the open buttons revealing just enough tanned skin and the faint gleam of his thin gold chain. He looked effortlessly powerful — the kind of man whose presence demanded attention without him needing to try.

And he was giving you all of his attention.

Not in an obvious way that would draw comments from the others. It was subtler, more dangerous. His gaze lingered on the curve of your neck when you turned to laugh at Mina. When you crossed your legs, his eyes followed the movement slowly, appreciatively. Every time you lifted your glass to your lips, he watched with quiet intensity, as if memorizing the way they pressed against the rim.

“You’re in marketing, right?” he asked during a lull, his voice low and smooth, carrying that rich Australian-Korean accent that made every word feel intimate. “Mina mentioned something about campaigns and social media. Sounds like you spend your days figuring out what makes people want things.”

You nodded, turning slightly toward him. “Pretty much. I create visuals and stories that make people stop scrolling. Try to make them feel something.”

Chan’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Interesting. You seem like someone who understands desire very well.” His eyes held yours a beat longer than necessary. “Even if you don’t always show it.”

The double meaning hung between you, light enough to pass as casual conversation, heavy enough to make your pulse quicken. You felt heat rise to your cheeks but refused to look away immediately.

“I’m better at reading what other people want than admitting what I want,” you replied softly, keeping your tone playful but guarded.

He chuckled quietly, the sound low and warm, sending a small shiver down your spine. “That’s a dangerous answer,” he murmured, leaning just a fraction closer. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder — barely there, almost accidental — as he reached for the bottle of champagne to refill his glass. “Makes me wonder how hard I’d have to work to find out what you really want tonight.”

Before you could respond, Mina turned back to the group with another burst of energy.

“Babe! Tell them about the client who wanted flying pigs in the campaign! It was absolute chaos!”

You jumped at the opportunity to shift focus and launched into the story, grateful for the brief escape. As you spoke, describing the ridiculous briefing and the creative team’s meltdown, you could feel Chan’s gaze on the side of your face, tracing your profile, dropping occasionally to your lips and the neckline of your red dress. When you finished, the group laughed again, but Chan was the first to comment.

“You tell stories well,” he said, voice smooth as velvet. “Good eye for detail. That’s rare.” He paused, then added with a small smirk, “In my world, the smallest details are what separate winning from crashing at two hundred kilometers per hour. I like people who notice things… who pay attention.”

His arm shifted slightly on the backrest, now resting more deliberately behind you. The warmth of him was noticeable — the faint heat of his body, the clean masculine scent of his cologne (dark wood, warm spice, and something expensive). It wrapped around you like an invisible pull.

You met his eyes again. “And what about you? Do you always pay this much attention to… details?”

Chan’s smile turned sharper, more predatory, though still masked as friendly conversation. “Only when the details are worth it.” His gaze flicked down to your mouth for a split second. “And you’ve been very worth watching since you sat down.”

The tension crackled. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too obviously. He was good — very good. He knew exactly how to push without being overt, how to make every innocent sentence feel loaded.

The group conversation continued around you. Mina was now debating the best nightlife spots in Leblon with Hyunjin and Felix, her laughter ringing out. Changbin and Minho were trading training stories. Seungmin listened quietly, occasionally offering dry wit.

Chan took advantage of the divided attention.

“You know,” he said quietly, only for you, “most women who end up at this table spend the whole night trying to impress me. Flirting hard. Laughing at everything I say. You… you’re doing the opposite. You’re making me work for every smile.” He tilted his head, studying you. “It’s refreshing. And fucking attractive.”

The mild curse word, spoken low and rough, sent a spark through you. You turned to face him more directly, your knee brushing against his thigh under the table. Neither of you pulled away.

“Maybe I’m not here to impress anyone,” you said softly, holding his gaze. “Maybe I’m just here because Mina dragged me.”

“And yet,” he countered, voice dropping even lower, “you haven’t left. Even though I can tell part of you wants to run.” His fingers finally made proper contact — a slow, light trace along your shoulder, barely skimming your skin. “Tell me the truth. Are you having fun yet, or are you still planning your escape route?”

You hesitated, then gave him a small, honest smile. “I’m… having more fun than I thought I would.”

His eyes darkened with satisfaction. “Good. Because I’d hate for you to leave before the night gets interesting.”

Time stretched. More stories were told. More drinks were poured. Mina kept shooting you knowing glances, barely hiding her excitement. At one point, Hyunjin suggested moving to another part of the mansion or even heading to a different venue later.

Chan waited for the perfect moment, then spoke casually but clearly.

“Actually,” he said, looking straight at you while addressing the group, “I was thinking about taking the Ferrari out for a drive. The view from the top of the mountain at this hour is insane. Quiet roads, city lights everywhere.” His eyes locked onto yours, intense and inviting. “If you want a break from the noise… you should come with me.”

The invitation landed heavily. It sounded innocent enough — a scenic drive. But the way he looked at you made it clear this was anything but innocent. The tension between you had been building for nearly an hour in stolen glances, light touches, and layered words. This was the first real step.

You didn’t answer right away. You let the silence stretch, holding his gaze, feeling your heart race. Part of you wanted to say yes immediately. Another part enjoyed making him wait.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally said, a small, teasing smile playing on your lips.

Chan leaned back, but his eyes never left yours. The corner of his mouth lifted in a slow, confident smirk — the look of a man who loved the chase and was certain he would win.

“Take your time,” he murmured, voice low and promising. “I’m very patient when something — or someone — is worth waiting for.”

Mina raised an eyebrow at you across the table, barely containing her grin. The rest of the group continued chatting, seemingly unaware of the electric current running between you and Chan. But you both knew.

The night was still young, the city lights sparkled below, and the tension between you had grown into something undeniable — slow-burning, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep playing hard to get.

And Chan looked like he was more than ready to turn up the heat.

---

𝟎𝟏:𝟐𝟎, 𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨.

The laughter around the table continued, but you needed a moment to breathe. The constant weight of Chan’s gaze, the subtle brushes of his fingers, and the electric tension had started to feel overwhelming. Your cheeks were warm, your heart was racing faster than it had any right to, and you could barely focus on the conversations anymore.

You leaned slightly toward Mina and whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom. Be right back.”

Mina nodded immediately, eyes sparkling with understanding. “I’ll come with you.”

You both stood up, excusing yourselves politely. As you walked away from the table, you could feel Chan’s eyes following you the entire way — heavy, appreciative, and unmistakably hungry. You didn’t dare look back.

The mansion’s bathroom area was just as luxurious as the rest of the house: marble floors, soft golden lighting, massive mirrors, and individual stalls that felt more like small private rooms. The moment the heavy door closed behind you two, Mina let out a dramatic squeal and grabbed your arms.

“Oh. My. God. Girl!” she whisper-shouted, her voice echoing slightly off the marble. “Did you see the way he was looking at you? Bang Chan was practically undressing you with his eyes right there at the table! I thought he was going to pull you onto his lap in front of everyone!”

You covered your face with both hands, leaning back against the cool marble counter. Your cheeks were burning.

“Mina, stop! I’m dying of embarrassment here,” you groaned, voice muffled by your palms. “He’s so… intense. Every time I move, he’s watching. Every time I speak, he has some double-meaning comment. I feel like I’m under a spotlight. Why me? There are so many gorgeous women here tonight.”

Mina pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at her. Her expression was a perfect mix of amusement and excitement.

“Because you’re hot, babe! And you’re not throwing yourself at him like everyone else does. That man is used to women crawling all over him. You sitting there being all shy and composed? It’s driving him crazy. I saw the way he leaned in every time you spoke. His arm was basically around you by the end. He is so into you.”

You paced a little in front of the mirror, fixing your dress even though it didn’t need fixing.

“I know he’s flirting. It’s so obvious. The way he talks… the touches… that accent. God, his voice is dangerous. I keep getting goosebumps every time he gets close. But Mina… this is Bang Chan. Famous pilot, rich, ridiculously hot, and probably has a different girl in every city. I feel so out of my league.”

Mina hopped up to sit on the marble counter, crossing her legs and grinning like she had just won the lottery.

“Exactly! That’s why you should enjoy it! It’s not every day a guy like him sets his sights on you. Most girls would kill for this kind of attention. He’s clearly interested. Like, seriously interested. The whole table noticed. Hyunjin kept raising his eyebrows at me, and Felix was smirking the entire time. Chan was eating you up with his eyes. I’m surprised he didn’t start drooling.”

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “You’re exaggerating…”

“I’m not! When you told that story about the flying pigs campaign, he was staring at your mouth the whole time. And when your leg brushed his under the table? I thought he was going to break his glass. Girl, the tension between you two is insane. Even I could feel it from across the table.”

You turned to the mirror, checking your reflection. Your face was flushed, eyes a little brighter than usual, lips slightly parted. The red dress suddenly felt tighter, more revealing.

“He invited me to go for a drive with him,” you admitted quietly. “Said the view from the top of the mountain is beautiful at this hour. Just the two of us in his Ferrari.”

Mina’s eyes widened dramatically and she let out another excited squeak.

“Yes! Say yes! Go with him!”

“Mina!” you laughed, half mortified. “It’s past midnight. We barely know him. What if—”

“What if he fucks you senseless in the Ferrari and you have the best night of your life?” she finished boldly, grinning. “Look, I’m not saying be reckless, but… live a little! This is the kind of story you tell your grandchildren someday — ‘Yeah, I had a wild night with a famous race car driver in Rio.’”

You covered your face again, laughing despite the embarrassment.

She softened her tone a bit, still smiling but more serious. “Okay, okay. Be safe, obviously. Share your location with me the whole time. Keep notifications on. If anything feels off, call me and I’ll come get you, no questions asked. Rio at night can be tricky, even in fancy cars. But Chan seems respectful enough, and he knows everyone here. I don’t think he’d risk his reputation doing something stupid.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “He’s just… so much. The way he looks at me makes me feel naked. And when he talks close to my ear… I swear my brain stops working.”

Mina hopped down from the counter and hugged you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder while both of you looked at the mirror.

“That’s the feeling you should chase tonight. You deserve to feel desired. You work so hard, you’re always so responsible… for once, let a hot, rich, talented man spoil you a little. Or a lot.” She winked. “And if you end up having sex… use protection, please. I’m way too young and hot to be an aunt right now.”

You burst out laughing, pushing her playfully. “Mina! Oh my God!”

“What? I’m being realistic! That man looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Those thighs? Those hands? Yeah… you might not walk straight tomorrow.”

You shook your head, still laughing, but the nervousness was slowly mixing with excitement. The idea of being alone with Chan in his car, driving through the dark mountains with the city sparkling below… it was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

“So… you think I should go?” you asked, voice smaller now.

Mina turned you around to face her, holding your shoulders.

“Yes. Go. Enjoy every second. Flirt back if you want. Let him chase you. Let him catch you if it feels right. But keep me updated. And remember: you’re a goddess. He should be the one feeling lucky.”

You took a deep breath, staring at yourself in the mirror one more time. The girl looking back seemed different — flushed, eyes bright with possibility, a little bolder.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll go.”

Mina squealed again and pulled you into a tight hug.

“That’s my girl! Now fix your lipstick, take a deep breath, and go make that man lose his mind. I want all the details tomorrow — or whenever you resurface.”

You both laughed as you touched up your makeup. The conversation, the teasing, and Mina’s encouragement had eased some of the overwhelming embarrassment. Now, underneath it all, anticipation was building.

As you walked back toward the table together, Mina leaned in one last time.

“And remember… if he kisses you, make sure it’s worth the drive.”

Your heart raced faster with every step. Chan was still at the table, talking with the others, but the moment you reappeared, his eyes found yours immediately. That slow, dangerous smile returned to his lips.

He already knew.

And from the way he looked at you now — darker, more certain — he could tell your answer was going to be yes.

The night was no longer just young.

It was yours to claim.

---

𝟎𝟏:𝟑𝟎, 𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨.

The walk back from the bathroom felt longer than it should have. Every step made your heart beat harder against your ribs. Mina walked beside you, still grinning like an idiot, occasionally bumping her shoulder against yours in silent encouragement. The luxurious mansion pulsed with low music, laughter, and the clink of expensive glasses, but all you could focus on was the table ahead — and the man waiting there.

The moment you reappeared in sight, Chan’s head turned. His dark eyes locked onto you instantly, as if he’d been watching the direction you’d left. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips. He leaned back against the sofa with that effortless dominance, one arm still draped along the backrest where you’d been sitting.

“Well, well… finally,” he said as soon as you were close enough, voice low and teasing, loud enough for the immediate group to hear but clearly aimed at you. “I was starting to miss you already. Thought maybe you’d escaped through the window to avoid me.”

The table chuckled. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, amused. Felix smirked into his drink.

You sat back down, closer to him this time, the leather warm from where you’d been earlier. “Missed me in five minutes? That’s a new record,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light despite the butterflies rioting in your stomach.

Chan tilted his head, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked you up and down slowly. “Five minutes felt like five laps around the track. Time moves different when the view gets taken away.” He leaned in just a little, voice dropping. “Especially when the view looks as good as you do in that red dress.”

Heat flooded your face again. You glanced away toward the glittering city lights outside the glass walls, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

The conversation picked up around you once more, but the bubble between you and Chan felt even smaller and more charged than before. He found ways to include you in every topic — asking your opinion on music, on Rio’s nightlife, on whether speed or control mattered more in life. Every question came wrapped in that smooth accent and those lingering looks.

After several minutes of this careful dance, you took a steadying breath and turned to face him properly.

“Okay,” you said quietly, so only he could hear. “I’ll go with you. For the drive.”

Chan’s eyes lit up with clear victory and hunger. The corner of his mouth curved into a dangerously attractive smirk.

“But,” you continued before he could speak, holding his gaze firmly, “if you try anything I don’t allow… I will hit you. I’m serious. I don’t care how famous or fast you are.”

For a second he just stared at you, surprised. Then he let out a low, genuine laugh — deep, warm, and genuinely delighted.

“Fuck, I like you,” he murmured, biting his lower lip. “Deal. I’ll behave… until you tell me not to.” His eyes darkened. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be the one testing my self-control tonight.”

You held his stare, heart hammering, but didn’t look away. The tension between you crackled like electricity in the air.

Chan stood up first, offering his hand to help you. His palm was warm, fingers strong as they closed around yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Shall we?”

You nodded.

The two of you said your goodbyes to the group. Mina hugged you tightly, whispering “Have fun” in your ear before pulling back with a proud, mischievous grin. As you and Chan started walking away from the table, she caught your eye from across the space. She mouthed clearly, exaggerating the words so you could read her lips:

“Take care. Text me. Don’t get pregnant."

You almost tripped. Chan noticed your reaction and glanced back, but you quickly composed yourself, shooting Mina a death glare mixed with laughter. She just blew you a kiss.

The walk through the mansion toward the entrance felt surreal. Chan kept a hand lightly on your lower back — polite, guiding, but undeniably possessive. His presence beside you was overwhelming: tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the confident stride of someone who dominated every space he entered. A few people glanced your way, recognizing him, but he paid them no attention. His focus stayed entirely on you.

Outside, the night air was still warm and humid, carrying the distant sound of waves and the scent of tropical flowers from the mansion’s gardens. The valet had already pulled up Chan’s car.

A sleek, aggressive Ferrari — deep blood red, shining under the lights like it was wet. The lines were sharp, predatory, exactly like its owner. The butterfly doors lifted upward with a soft mechanical whir as Chan approached.

He opened the passenger side for you, waiting until you were settled before closing it. The interior smelled like expensive leather, new car, and his cologne. When he slid into the driver’s seat, the space suddenly felt much smaller. His hand rested on the gear shift, dangerously close to your thigh.

“Ready?” he asked, voice lower now that you were alone. The city lights reflected in his eyes as he looked at you.

You nodded, buckling your seatbelt. “Ready. But remember what I said.”

Chan chuckled softly, starting the engine. The Ferrari roared to life with a deep, throaty growl that vibrated through your entire body.

“I remember,” he said, pulling away smoothly from the mansion. The car moved like liquid power — fast, controlled, responsive. “No crossing lines unless you draw them first.” He glanced over at you, one hand on the wheel, the other shifting gears as he accelerated down the private road. “Though I have to admit… I’m really hoping you draw a few tonight.”

The mansion lights faded behind you as Chan drove toward the winding mountain roads. The city of Rio de Janeiro stretched out below, an ocean of sparkling lights, with the dark silhouette of the sea beyond. Wind rushed through the slightly open windows, messing with your hair.

You glanced at his profile — strong jaw, focused eyes, slight smirk still playing on his lips.

This was really happening.

The night had officially shifted gears.

And Bang Chan looked more than ready to take you on the ride of your life.

────────────

𝟎𝟏:𝟒𝟎,𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨.

The Ferrari purred like a satisfied beast as it climbed the steep, curving roads leading up toward Vista Chinesa. The city sprawled far below — an endless glittering carpet of lights stretching from the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema all the way to the dark horizon where the sea met the sky. The Cristo Redentor glowed softly in the distance, watching over the sleeping metropolis. Inside the car, the world felt smaller, hotter, and far more dangerous.

You sat with your hands clasped tightly in your lap, the hem of your red dress having ridden up slightly from the movement and the way you kept shifting nervously in the leather seat. The air conditioning was on, but your skin still felt warm. Too warm. Every time Chan changed gears, the low rumble of the engine vibrated through your body, making it impossible to relax.

Chan noticed, of course. He always noticed.

“You okay over there?” he asked, voice smooth and amused, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel while the other stayed on the gear shift. He glanced at you, that signature smirk playing on his lips. “You look like I just kidnapped you instead of taking you for a scenic drive. Breathing would be a good start, sweetheart.”

You let out a shy laugh, biting your lip as you looked out the window at the passing trees and occasional glimpses of the city below.

“I’m fine,” you lied. “Just… not used to this. The car. The height. You.”

He chuckled, deep and low, the sound filling the small space between you. “Me? I’m harmless. Mostly.” His eyes flicked sideways again, lingering this time on the exposed skin of your thighs where the dress had shifted higher. He didn’t even try to hide it. “Though I have to say… that dress is making it very hard for me to keep my eyes on the road.”

Your face burned. You tugged at the hem self-consciously, but it only made the fabric slide back up again when you moved. Chan’s smirk deepened.

“You don’t have to fix it on my account,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave. “I’m enjoying the view. A lot.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing. The tension inside the Ferrari was thickening with every passing second. The scent of his cologne mixed with the leather and the faint night breeze coming through the cracked window made your head feel light.

“Do you… actually know where you’re going?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. “I don’t want to end up lost in the middle of nowhere at almost two in the morning.”

Chan laughed again, genuinely amused this time. He took a smooth curve, the car handling it perfectly, as if it were an extension of his body.

“I know Rio like the back of my hand,” he reassured you, glancing over with a reassuring yet still dangerously attractive smile. “This road leads up to one of the best viewpoints. Quiet. Private. Perfect for… talking.” The pause before the last word made it clear talking wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

You nodded, trying to calm your nerves. “Good. Because I really don’t want to become a headline: ‘Marketing girl disappears with famous pilot after leaving fancy party.’”

He grinned, shifting gears again as the road got steeper. “Nah. If anything, the headline would be ‘Lucky pilot spends night with the most beautiful girl at the party.’ Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the shy smile that escaped. “You’re very smooth. Too smooth.”

“Only when it’s worth it.” His eyes drifted again — slower this time — tracing from your knees up to the hem of your dress, then higher, appreciating the way the red fabric hugged your body. When he looked back at the road, his hand tightened slightly on the steering wheel. “You nervous because of me, or because you’re actually enjoying this more than you want to admit?”

You stayed quiet for a moment, watching the lights of the city flicker below as the car climbed higher.

“Both,” you admitted softly.

Chan hummed in approval, clearly pleased with your honesty. “Good. I like honest girls. Especially when they’re as pretty as you.” He reached over and turned the music down a little, letting the low sensual R&B fill the background instead of overpowering the moment. “Tell me something… why were you so hesitant back at the party? Most girls would’ve been all over me the second they sat down.”

You shrugged, still playing with the hem of your dress. “I’m not most girls. And you’re… a lot. Famous. Confident. The kind of guy who probably has girls throwing themselves at him every weekend.”

He nodded slowly, not denying it. “True. But none of them make me want to drive up here at 1:40 in the morning just to be alone with them.” His voice got quieter, rougher. “None of them make the dress look that fucking good either.”

Your breath hitched. The compliment was direct, heavy with want. You crossed your legs, which only made the fabric ride up even more. Chan noticed immediately. His jaw flexed and he let out a slow breath.

“You keep doing that and I’m gonna have a very hard time focusing on driving,” he said, half-joking, half-serious.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, cheeks flaming, quickly adjusting the dress again.

“Don’t be sorry.” He glanced over once more, eyes dark. “I like when you get shy. It’s cute. Makes me wonder what else makes you blush like that.”

The silence that followed was loaded. The Ferrari hugged another curve, the city now even farther below, the lights looking like scattered stars. The road was almost empty at this hour — just the occasional distant car far behind them. It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this luxurious, vibrating cocoon of leather and tension.

Chan kept the conversation going, asking about your job, your favorite places in Rio, what you did for fun. But every answer you gave seemed to fuel him more. He listened intently, responding with teasing comments and flirty observations that slowly chipped away at your defenses.

“You have a really pretty laugh,” he said at one point. “Soft. Genuine. I want to hear it more tonight.”

And later: “Your legs look incredible in that dress. Especially when the light from the city hits them like that.”

Each compliment, each lingering look, each low-spoken comment made the air inside the car feel heavier. Hotter. Your shyness only seemed to encourage him. The more you fidgeted and blushed, the more obvious his desire became — in the way his hand kept drifting closer to your thigh on the gear shift, in the way his eyes kept dropping to your chest and legs, in the way his voice got rougher every time he spoke directly to you.

“You’re killing me here, you know that?” he muttered during a straight stretch of road, shaking his head with a half-smile. “Sitting there looking all innocent and nervous while wearing that dress… it should be illegal.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just looked out the window again, heart pounding, thighs pressed tightly together.

Chan noticed that too.

The Ferrari continued climbing, the road twisting higher into the forested hills. The tension between you two was no longer subtle. It was thick, undeniable, and growing with every minute that passed.

---

𝟎𝟐:𝟎𝟓, 𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨.

The Ferrari continued its smooth ascent through the winding roads of the Tijuca Forest, the dense trees creating tunnels of darkness broken only by occasional glimpses of the city far below. The further you climbed, the quieter the world became. No more distant party music, no more background chatter — just the low growl of the engine, the soft R&B playing through the speakers, and the heavy, charged silence between you and Chan.

You were starting to relax. Slowly. The initial nervousness that had made your hands tremble was giving way to something warmer, bolder. Maybe it was the way Chan kept looking at you like you were the most fascinating thing he’d seen in months. Maybe it was the low compliments he dropped so casually. Or maybe it was simply the thrill of being completely alone with him.

You turned in your seat to face him more directly, letting your dress ride up a little on purpose this time.

“You keep saying I’m killing you,” you said softly, a small, teasing smile playing on your lips. “But you’re the one who can’t stop staring. Eyes on the road, pilot.”

Chan let out a surprised laugh, deep and raspy, glancing over at you with raised eyebrows. “Oh? Look who’s getting brave now.” His hand left the gear shift for a second to rest lightly on your thigh — just above the knee, warm and heavy. “Careful, sweetheart. I might start thinking you actually like the attention.”

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you placed your hand over his, not pushing it off, just resting there. “Maybe I do,” you admitted, voice quieter but steadier than before. “You’re not as scary as I thought you’d be.”

His fingers flexed under yours, squeezing your thigh gently. “Scary? That’s a new one.” He took another curve with perfect control, the city lights sparkling like jewels beneath you. “Most people find me charming.”

“You are charming,” you replied, growing bolder. “Dangerously charming. That’s the scary part.”

Chan’s smirk turned into something darker, more satisfied. The tension inside the car had shifted. You were no longer just reacting — you were playing along. And he was loving every second of it.

A few minutes later, he slowed the Ferrari and turned onto a narrower, less traveled road. “We’re almost there,” he said. “I wanted to bring you here because… well, most girls want the loud places. Clubs, parties, the spotlight. But I figured you’re different. You seemed like someone who appreciates quiet beauty. Real beauty.” He glanced at you meaningfully. “Plus, up here, no one interrupts. No cameras. No expectations. Just the city and us.”

The car finally came to a stop in a small, secluded parking area near the **Vista Chinesa** — one of Rio’s hidden gems. A Chinese-style pavilion sat gracefully on the edge of the hill, surrounded by lush greenery, offering one of the most breathtaking panoramic views of the entire city. At this hour, it was almost completely deserted. Only the soft glow of distant streetlights and the moon illuminated the scene.

Chan killed the engine. The sudden silence was intimate.

“Come on,” he said, stepping out and rounding the car to open your door. He offered his hand again, and this time you took it without hesitation. The night air was cooler up here, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of earth, leaves, and the distant sea.

He led you toward a stone bench near the pavilion, partially hidden by some trees but still offering the full spectacular view. Rio stretched out beneath you like a living painting — the Christ the Redeemer lit up in white, the dark curves of the mountains, the glowing beaches, and the infinite lights of the neighborhoods. It was stunningly beautiful.

You sat down side by side. Chan stretched his long legs out, one arm resting behind you on the back of the bench. This time he didn’t pretend it was accidental — his fingers lightly traced your shoulder, then played with a strand of your hair.

“Worth the drive?” he asked, voice low.

“Very worth it,” you whispered, looking at the view for a moment before turning to face him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He studied your face in the moonlight, his expression shifting from playful to something more intense. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?” The words came out rougher than before. “Not just the dress. You. The way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. The way you blush but still flirt back. It’s driving me crazy.”

You turned your body toward him, knees brushing against his. The boldness you felt earlier grew stronger. “Then maybe you should do something about it,” you said softly, surprising even yourself.

Chan’s eyes darkened instantly. He cupped your face with one hand, thumb brushing over your lower lip slowly, deliberately.

“You sure about that?” he murmured, leaning in closer. His breath warmed your skin. “Because once I start, I’m not going to want to stop at just a kiss.”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining distance.

The kiss started slow — a soft press of lips, testing, savoring. But the hunger that had been building for hours exploded almost immediately. Chan groaned low in his throat and tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a hunger that took your breath away. His hand slid into your hair, gripping firmly as he pulled you closer. His tongue traced your bottom lip before slipping inside, tasting you, claiming you.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was passionate, messy, full of pent-up desire. You kissed him back just as fiercely, one hand fisting his shirt, the other gripping his shoulder. Chan pulled you half onto his lap, strong arms wrapping around your waist as the kiss grew hotter, wetter. He sucked on your lower lip, then bit it gently, earning a soft whimper from you that made him smile against your mouth.

“Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled between kisses, his voice hoarse. He kissed you again, deeper, more demanding, tongue dancing with yours while his hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against his chest.

The city lights blurred in your peripheral vision. All that existed was the heat of his mouth, the firm grip of his hands, the way he kissed like he was starving for you. You melted into him, matching his intensity, fingers threading through his hair and tugging lightly. Chan responded with a deep, approving groan that vibrated through his chest.

When you finally broke apart for air, both of you were breathing hard. His forehead rested against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark with want. Your lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and the hem of your dress had ridden dangerously high on your thighs.

Chan brushed his thumb over your wet bottom lip again, breathing ragged.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do that,” he whispered, voice rough. “Since the moment you sat down at that table looking all shy and untouchable.”

You smiled shyly, still catching your breath, but didn’t pull away. “Then don’t stop now.”

His eyes flashed with heat at your words. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss — slower this time, but no less intense. His hands explored your waist, your hips, pulling you even closer until you were fully straddling his lap on the stone bench.

The night air, the breathtaking view, the distant sound of the city far below — everything faded into background as the chemistry between you two finally ignited.

And neither of you seemed in any hurry to put out the fire.

----

𝟎𝟐:𝟐𝟓 𝐀𝐌, 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐚, 𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨.

Minutes had blurred into what felt like an eternity of heat.

You were fully straddling Chan’s lap on the stone bench, knees on either side of his powerful thighs, your red dress bunched up around your hips. The kiss had turned filthy — tongues sliding hungrily, lips wet and swollen, occasional bites that made you both groan. Chan’s hands gripped your ass firmly, pulling you down harder against him with every roll of your hips.

You could feel him.

He was rock hard beneath you. The thick, heavy outline of his cock pressed right against your core through his tailored pants, throbbing every time you ground down. The size was impossible to ignore — long and very thick. The realization made your stomach tighten with a mix of nerves and raw excitement.

Chan pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing as he spoke.

“Fuck, baby… you’re driving me insane,” he growled, voice hoarse. One of his hands slid up your thigh, fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, moving dangerously higher. His fingertips grazed the edge of your panties, teasing the lace.

You shivered hard, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he kissed you again, deeper, more desperate. His fingers were just about to push the fabric aside when you suddenly broke the kiss, grabbing his wrist gently but firmly.

“Chan… wait,” you breathed, chest heaving. “I’m not doing this here. Not in the middle of the woods like this. It feels… strange. What if someone sees us?”

Chan froze, eyes dark with lust, lips parted and swollen. For a second he looked almost dazed, like he was fighting his own body. Then reality seemed to hit him. He let out a heavy, frustrated breath and rested his forehead on your shoulder, chuckling lowly.

“Shit… you’re right,” he muttered, voice rough. “Sorry. Got carried away. This view makes me forget there’s still a world out there.” He kissed your neck softly, almost apologetically, before pulling his hand back. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

He helped you off his lap, adjusting your dress for you with surprisingly gentle hands. But when he stood up, it was impossible to miss how painfully hard he was. The bulge in his pants was obvious, straining aggressively against the fabric. He didn’t even try to hide it as he walked you back to the Ferrari, jaw clenched, breathing still uneven.

Once inside the car, the tension became almost unbearable. Chan started the engine, the low roar filling the silence. He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, gripping the wheel tighter than necessary.

You watched him for a moment, biting your lip. The drive to his place was going to be long.

“Where do you live?” you asked softly.

“Barra da Tijuca,” he answered, voice still husky. “Apartment in a gated community near the beach. It’s a bit far from here… around 40-45 minutes depending on traffic. Why?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you reached over and rested your hand on his thigh, feeling the hard muscle tense under your touch. Chan glanced at you, surprised.

“You ’re really hard,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the massive bulge. “It looks painful.”

He let out a breathless laugh, shifting again. “Yeah… it is. Been like this since you started kissing me back like that.”

The car began descending the mountain road. The city lights grew closer again. You felt a surge of boldness — the same one that had made you flirt back earlier.

“Keep your eyes on the road and drive carefully,” you said quietly, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Chan looked at you, confused. “What are you—?”

You leaned over the center console, hands working on his belt. His eyes widened.

“Baby… you don’t have to—”

“Shh. Just focus on driving,” you murmured, pulling his zipper down. When you freed him from his boxers, his cock sprang out heavily.

He was big. Thick. The head already glistening with precum, veins prominent along the impressive length. You wrapped your hand around the base and Chan hissed sharply, hips twitching.

“Fuck…” he groaned, one hand tightening on the steering wheel while the other rested on the back of your head, not pushing, just holding.

You started slow — licking a long stripe from base to tip, tasting the salty precum. Chan let out a deep, guttural moan that made your core clench.

“Shit, that feels so good…” he breathed.

You took him into your mouth, lips stretching around his thickness. He was heavy on your tongue, filling your mouth completely. You bobbed your head, taking more of him with every movement, using your hand on what didn’t fit.

Chan was incredibly vocal.

“Fuuuck… just like that,” he moaned, voice breaking. “Your mouth is so warm… so fucking wet.”

The car sped up slightly before he forced himself to slow down, breathing ragged. Every time you sucked harder or swirled your tongue around the head, he let out another broken groan or curse.

“Goddamn… you’re gonna make me crash if you keep doing that,” he panted, fingers tightening in your hair. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby. So fucking pretty.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs tense. The obscene wet sounds mixed with his moans and the low purr of the Ferrari engine created an incredibly erotic atmosphere. You took him deeper, relaxing your throat, eyes watering slightly as you pushed your limits.

Chan’s breathing grew louder, more desperate.

“Holy shit— slow down a little or I’m gonna cum too fast,” he warned, voice strained. “You’re too good at this… fuck, I didn’t expect this tonight.”

You didn’t stop. You wanted to push him. Wanted to hear more of those wrecked moans. Your head moved faster, hand stroking in rhythm, saliva dripping down his length.

Chan kept one hand on the wheel, eyes fighting to stay on the dark road while the other gently guided your head.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned deeply, hips twitching up slightly into your mouth. “Such a good girl… taking me so deep. Just like that— ah, fuck!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Chan groaned, his voice already wrecked.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you took him deeper, relaxing your throat as much as you could, sucking him with pure hunger. Your head bobbed steadily, wet, obscene sounds filling the interior of the Ferrari as you worked him. Your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his thick cock, tracing every vein while your hand stroked the base in perfect rhythm.

Chan’s grip on your hair tightened, not forcing you, but holding on like you were his only anchor. The car was moving, but his focus was clearly split.

“Fuuuuck… baby, your mouth—” He cut himself off with a deep, guttural moan as you sucked harder, hollowing your cheeks. “Just like that… holy shit, you’re sucking me so good.”

You poured everything into it — eager, messy, and greedy. Saliva dripped down his thick shaft, coating your hand as you twisted your wrist on every upstroke. You pulled back for a second to catch your breath, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cockhead, before diving back down, taking him as deep as you could.

Chan’s moans were getting louder, needier, more desperate.

“Ahh— fuck, fuck, fuck… you’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly into your mouth. “So warm… so fucking wet. You’re taking me so deep, baby. Such a good fucking girl.”

The road to Barra da Tijuca felt endless. Every time the car took a curve, his cock shifted in your mouth, and you adjusted eagerly, sucking harder. Chan’s breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling fast. His free hand stayed on the steering wheel, knuckles white, while the other gently guided the pace of your head.

“You’re so fucking nasty for this… doing this while I drive,” he groaned, voice breaking into a whiny whimper that made heat pool between your legs. “Didn’t expect you to be this greedy. Shit— right there, baby. Suck the head like that again—”

You obeyed, focusing on the sensitive tip, swirling your tongue around it before sucking hard. Chan’s moan was loud, almost broken.

“Nngh—! Fuck, I’m getting close already…”

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went faster, wetter, taking him deeper until your nose brushed against his pelvis. The sounds were filthy — gagging softly, slurping, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach. Chan’s thighs were trembling under your touch.

“Baby… baby, slow down a little,” he begged, voice turning genuinely whiny. “I’m so close… I don’t wanna cum yet— ahh, fuck!”

But you didn’t slow down. You wanted him desperate. You wanted to hear him fall apart.

The minutes dragged on in a haze of heat and moans. Chan kept driving, barely keeping the car steady as you worshipped his thick cock. His groans grew louder, more broken, more pathetic in the hottest way possible.

“Shit— I can feel it… I’m so fucking close,” he whined, breathing heavily. “Your mouth is too good… too fucking good. I’m gonna cum so much if you keep going like that.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making his whole body jerk. Chan let out a long, shaky moan that sounded almost pained from how good it felt.

The tall buildings and luxury condominiums of Barra da Tijuca started appearing. You were getting close to his neighborhood. The car slowed as you approached a red traffic light — the last one before the entrance to his gated community.

Chan’s breathing changed. It became faster, shallower, more desperate.

“Baby— fuck, the light’s red,” he gasped. “I’m right there… I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard—”

You didn’t pull off. Instead, you took him as deep as possible and sucked with everything you had, stroking him fast with your hand.

The moment the car stopped completely at the red light, Chan broke.

“Fuuuuck—! I’m cumming— I’m cumming, baby— ahh!”

His head fell back against the seat as his orgasm hit him like a wave. His cock throbbed violently in your mouth, pulsing hard as he started shooting thick, hot ropes of cum straight down your throat. Chan moaned shamelessly loud — loud enough that you were grateful the windows were closed.

“Nnghhh—! Fuck, fuck, fuck— so good— you’re taking all of it,” he whined, voice high and broken, almost sobbing with pleasure. “Oh my god… I can’t stop— there’s so much—”

He kept cumming, wave after wave, filling your mouth until it started leaking from the corners of your lips. His hips stuttered, thighs shaking, one hand gripping your hair tightly as broken, needy moans spilled from his mouth nonstop.

“Baby… baby, you’re milking me so good— ahhh, shit— I’m still cumming— fuck!”

The moans were pure filth — deep, whiny, desperate, almost embarrassed at how intense it was. His whole body trembled as the last powerful spurts filled your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, the rest dripping down your chin onto his pants and the leather seat.

Chan was panting like he’d just finished a race, chest heaving, eyes half-closed in bliss. The traffic light turned green, but he stayed still for a few more seconds, trying to recover.

“Jesus Christ…” he breathed out, voice hoarse and shaky. “That was… the best head I’ve ever had in my life. You just swallowed almost everything like it was nothing.”

You slowly pulled off his cock, licking him clean with soft, gentle strokes of your tongue while looking up at him. Chan stared down at you, eyes dark and full of awe, his hand gently caressing your hair.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you up gently.

He kissed you deeply despite the mess, tasting himself on your tongue with a low groan. When he pulled back, his thumb wiped the corner of your mouth, eyes burning.

“We’re almost at my place,” he said, voice still rough. “And when we get there… I’m going to return the favor until you’re the one moaning my name like that.”

The light was green.

Chan shifted gears, still breathing hard, a satisfied but dangerous smirk slowly returning to his lips as he drove the last few minutes toward his luxury apartment in Barra da Tijuca.

The night was far from over.

𝟎𝟐:𝟓𝟖, 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐝𝐚 𝐓𝐢𝐣𝐮𝐜𝐚, 𝐑𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐨.

The Ferrari turned into the quiet, exclusive streets of one of the most prestigious gated communities in Barra da Tijuca. Tall walls covered with ivy, discreet security cameras, and perfectly landscaped gardens created an atmosphere of absolute privacy and wealth. Chan drove with calm confidence, one hand on the wheel and the other resting possessively on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin.

He stopped in front of a sleek, modern building and gave a small wave to the security guard, who opened the gate immediately. The car descended into a private underground garage, parking right beside a private elevator.

Chan turned off the engine and exhaled deeply, turning to look at you. His eyes were still dark with desire, lips slightly swollen from earlier. “We’re here,” he said, voice low and rough. “My place.”

He got out first and opened your door, helping you out of the low sports car. Your legs felt a little weak after everything that had happened during the drive. Chan noticed and smiled, pulling you close by the waist as you walked toward the elevator. The ride up was silent, but the air crackled with anticipation.

When the elevator doors opened directly into his penthouse, you stopped in your tracks, completely stunned.

The apartment was breathtaking.

It was an enormous open-concept space with incredibly high ceilings. An entire wall of floor-to-ceiling glass offered a spectacular panoramic view of the ocean and the glittering lights of Barra da Tijuca at night. The living room was vast, furnished with elegant minimalist pieces in dark tones mixed with warm wood. Expensive modern art decorated the walls, and a sleek open kitchen with black marble countertops and high-end appliances sat to the left. Soft golden ambient lighting turned on automatically, bathing everything in a warm, intimate glow. Through the glass doors, you could see a luxurious terrace with an infinity pool that seemed to blend into the sea.

You felt small. Out of place.

“Chan… this is incredible,” you whispered, voice full of awe and embarrassment. “It’s like a dream. I feel like I shouldn’t even be standing here. This place is too… much.”

He chuckled softly behind you, closing the distance until his chest pressed against your back. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his body as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Don’t think like that,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “I wanted you here. In my space. With me.” He kissed the side of your neck gently. “The house is just a house. You’re what matters tonight.”

You turned in his arms to face him, still feeling shy. “It’s just… very different from my reality. This view, the size, the luxury… I feel like an intruder.”

Before you could say anything else, Chan cupped your face with both hands and kissed you.

The kiss was immediate and intense. His lips claimed yours with hunger, tongue sliding against yours as he pulled you closer. You moaned softly into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his soft hair. Chan groaned in response, hands sliding down your body until they gripped your waist tightly, then lower to squeeze your ass.

He walked you backward without breaking the kiss until your back met the cool glass window. The contrast made you gasp. Chan took advantage, deepening the kiss even more, tongue exploring your mouth as one hand held the back of your neck and the other roamed your thigh.

“Been dying to kiss you like this all night,” he growled against your lips, biting your bottom lip before soothing it. “You have no idea how much I wanted you alone.”

You whimpered, pressing your body against his. You could feel him getting hard again, his thick cock pressing against your stomach. Chan rolled his hips slowly, letting you feel everything as he kissed you like he was addicted.

Suddenly, he bent down, grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively as he carried you, lips never leaving yours. He moved through the living room and up the elegant floating staircase to the second floor, holding you as if you weighed nothing.

The master bedroom was just as impressive: a huge king-sized bed with dark silk sheets, another wall of glass facing the ocean, soft lighting, and a luxurious atmosphere that smelled exactly like him. Chan kicked the door shut and carried you straight to the bed, laying you down in the middle of the massive mattress.

He climbed on top of you immediately, settling between your spread legs, his body pressing you deliciously into the soft bedding. His eyes roamed over your flushed face and messed-up red dress with clear hunger.

“Look at you…” he whispered, voice hoarse. “So fucking beautiful lying in my bed.”

He kissed you again, slower but deeper, tongue tasting every corner of your mouth. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing your dress higher until it was bunched around your waist, exposing your black lace panties. Chan pulled back slightly to look down at you, breathing heavily.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he confessed, kissing your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin hard enough to leave marks. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this since the party.”

You arched into him, hands slipping under his shirt to feel his warm, defined abs and back. Chan sat up for a moment, pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion and throwing it aside, revealing his perfectly sculpted chest, shoulders and abs. He looked even better than you had imagined.

Then he was back on you, kissing you deeply, hips rolling against yours in a slow, teasing rhythm. His hard cock pressed right against your core, making you both moan into the kiss.

Chan hovered over you, his bare chest pressing against your body as he kissed you like he was trying to consume every sound you made. His mouth was hot, demanding, and relentless. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss until your tongues slid together in a wet, messy dance that made your head spin. Every time you tried to catch your breath he chased your lips again, sucking on your bottom lip, biting it gently, then soothing it with his tongue.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed against your mouth, voice thick with lust. “This red dress has been killing me all night… the way it hugs your body, the way your tits look in it… I’ve been imagining taking it off you since the moment I saw you.”

You moaned softly into his mouth, your hands running up his muscular back, nails lightly scratching his skin. Chan groaned at the feeling and rolled his hips slowly against you, letting you feel how hard he still was.

He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down your jaw, sucking on the sensitive spot below your ear before moving to your neck. His mouth was greedy, leaving open-mouthed kisses and light bites that made you arch off the bed with a needy whimper.

“Chan…” you moaned, fingers threading through his hair.

“Fuck, I love the way you say my name,” he growled, sucking harder on your neck. “You sound so pretty when you’re turned on. So fucking sexy.”

His hands moved to the straps of your dress, slowly pulling them down your shoulders. He kissed every inch of skin he revealed, tongue tracing your collarbone as he tugged the fabric lower. When your breasts finally spilled free, Chan let out a deep, appreciative groan.

“Jesus Christ… look at you,” he murmured, eyes dark and hungry as he stared at your bare chest. “These tits are perfect. So fucking pretty. Been dying to taste them.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you.

Chan wrapped his lips around your right nipple, sucking gently at first, then harder, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. You moaned loudly, back arching off the mattress as pleasure shot straight between your legs. He groaned against your skin, the vibration making you shiver.

“Mmm… so sweet,” he mumbled, sucking harder, taking more of your breast into his mouth. His hand kneaded the other one, thumb brushing over your nipple until it was hard and aching. “You taste so good, baby. These tits were made for my mouth.”

He switched sides, giving the same attention to your left breast — licking, sucking, and gently biting until you were writhing underneath him, soft moans and whimpers falling from your lips nonstop. Every suck sent sparks through your body. Every time he flicked his tongue over your nipple you cried out, hips bucking up against him instinctively.

“Chan… oh god…” you moaned, gripping his hair tighter.

He looked up at you while still sucking, eyes locked on yours, the sight incredibly erotic. “That’s it, moan for me,” he said, voice muffled against your skin. “I want to hear how good it feels. You’re so fucking responsive… so sensitive. I could spend hours just sucking on these pretty tits.”

He pressed your breasts together with both hands, burying his face between them, licking and kissing the soft flesh before taking one nipple back into his mouth and sucking hard. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth filled the room, mixed with your breathy moans and his low groans of appreciation.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he praised between sucks, voice rough. “All flushed and moaning under me. This body… fuck, I want to ruin you tonight. Want to mark every inch of you.”

He sucked harder, almost desperately, alternating between your breasts, leaving them wet and shiny with his saliva. Your nipples were swollen and sensitive, every touch of his tongue making you tremble. You kept moaning his name, hips grinding up against his hard cock through his pants, desperate for friction.

Chan growled, one hand sliding down your body to grip your thigh, spreading your legs wider as he continued devouring your chest. He pulled back slightly to admire his work — your breasts covered in hickeys and glistening from his mouth.

“Look how pretty they look now,” he said, voice hoarse with lust. “All marked up by me. Mine.”

He dove back in, sucking and licking with renewed hunger, one hand pinching and rolling the nipple he wasn’t sucking on. Your moans grew louder, needier, your body burning under his touch. Every wet pull of his mouth sent waves of pleasure straight to your core, making you wetter than you’d ever been.

Chan was completely lost in you — kissing, licking, sucking, and praising you nonstop.

“So fucking perfect… these tits are driving me crazy… you’re so hot, baby… so fucking hot…”

He kept going, relentless, as if he really could spend the whole night just worshipping your breasts. Your moans echoed softly in the large bedroom, mixing with his deep groans and the wet sounds of his mouth on your skin.

Chan kept devouring your breasts with unrestrained hunger, his mouth hot and greedy as he sucked hard on your swollen nipples. He alternated between them, licking, biting softly and then soothing with his tongue, while his hands squeezed the soft flesh, pressing them together so he could bury his face between them.

“Fuck, these tits are perfect,” he groaned against your skin, voice thick and raspy. “So soft… so fucking full. I can’t stop sucking them. Look how hard your nipples are for me… so pretty and sensitive.”

You moaned loudly, back arching off the mattress as he sucked harder, the wet sounds of his mouth echoing in the big bedroom. Every pull of his lips sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, making you wetter by the second. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging desperately as waves of heat washed over you.

“Chan… oh my god…” you whimpered, hips rolling up against him.

He growled in response, the vibration traveling through your chest. “That’s it, moan my name. I love how you sound when I’m sucking on you like this. So fucking sexy.”

After long, torturous minutes spent worshipping your breasts — leaving them covered in red marks and glistening with his saliva — Chan finally began kissing his way down your body. His lips left a wet trail along your stomach, tongue dipping into your navel before moving lower. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your bunched-up dress and panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. You lifted your hips to help him, heart hammering wildly in your chest as the cool air hit your soaked pussy.

Chan spread your thighs wide with his strong hands, settling comfortably between them. He stared at your exposed core for a few seconds, eyes completely dark with lust, breathing heavy.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” he whispered, almost reverently. “Look at this pretty little pussy. So wet… so fucking swollen and dripping for me. You’re making such a mess, baby.”

He leaned in and ran his tongue slowly from your entrance all the way up to your clit in one long, broad stroke. The second he tasted you, Chan let out a deep, guttural moan that vibrated straight against your folds.

“Mmmph— fuck!” he groaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut. “You taste so fucking good. So sweet and creamy… this is the best pussy I’ve ever had in my life. I’m serious.”

He didn’t ease into it. Chan dove in like a starving man, burying his face completely between your thighs with raw, shameless hunger. His tongue licked long, messy stripes up and down your slit, lapping up every drop of your arousal like it was nectar. He moaned continuously against you, the sounds loud, needy, and completely unrestrained.

“Goddamn, baby… you’re dripping down my chin,” he groaned, voice muffled as he licked faster. “Tastes so fucking delicious. I could eat this pussy for hours and still want more. So sweet… so fucking addictive.”

He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips jerked violently and you cried out, gripping his hair tighter. Chan growled in approval, sucking even harder, the wet obscene sounds of his mouth filling the entire room.

“Yes— fuck, just like that,” he moaned against your clit. “Moan for me, baby. Let me hear how good my tongue feels. This little clit is throbbing so much… so cute and swollen on my tongue.”

He pushed his tongue inside you, fucking you with deep, wet strokes while his nose rubbed perfectly against your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming. You moaned loudly, thighs trembling around his head as he devoured you with pure enthusiasm.

Chan pulled back slightly, breathing hard, chin and lips shiny with your juices. “You have no idea how good you taste,” he said, voice wrecked. “I’ve never been this fucking obsessed with a pussy before. Look how wet you are… dripping everywhere. Such a messy, perfect girl for me.”

He dove back in even more eagerly, sucking your clit into his mouth while sliding two thick fingers deep inside you. He curled them instantly, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. His fingers pumped fast and deep, matching the rhythm of his tongue as he sucked and licked your clit with desperate hunger.

“Oh fuck— Chan!” you cried out, back arching sharply off the bed.

“That’s it, baby. Say my name while I eat this pretty pussy,” he groaned loudly, fingers moving faster. “You’re squeezing so tight around my fingers… fuck, I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock like this later. But right now I just want to drink every drop you give me.”

He became almost feral — licking, sucking, and moaning like your pleasure was the only thing that existed. His free hand slid up your body to pinch and tug at your sensitive nipple while he continued devouring you. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth and fingers echoed obscenely.

“You’re soaking my face, baby… making such a mess,” he moaned, voice vibrating right against your clit. “Best fucking taste in the world. I’m addicted already. This pussy is mine tonight. All mine. Gonna make you cum so hard on my tongue.”

Chan sucked your clit harder, fingers curling and pumping faster inside you. His moans were constant and shameless, like he was the one receiving pleasure. Every time you moaned or whimpered his name, he responded with deeper, hungrier licks.

“Cum for me, baby. Please— I need it,” he begged between sucks, voice hoarse and desperate. “I want to feel you cum on my tongue. Want to drink all of it. Be a good girl and flood my mouth. This sweet pussy deserves to cum hard.”

The combination of his filthy words, the relentless suction on your clit, and his fingers hitting that perfect spot over and over finally pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing through your body violently. You cried out his name loudly, thighs clamping around his head as you came hard, trembling and gushing against his tongue. Chan moaned loudly in pure satisfaction, never stopping. He kept licking and sucking through your orgasm, eagerly drinking every drop like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“Fuck yes— that’s it, baby. Give me everything,” he groaned, lapping at you greedily. “So good… you taste even better when you cum. Such a sweet, perfect pussy.”

Even after your orgasm subsided and you became sensitive, Chan continued licking slowly and gently, cleaning you up with soft, tender strokes of his tongue while moaning softly, clearly savoring every last bit.

He finally pulled back slightly, lips and chin completely glistening with your juices, eyes dark and satisfied as he looked up at you from between your spread thighs.

“You’re fucking delicious,” he whispered, kissing your inner thigh. “I could eat you for the rest of the night and still not get enough.”

He crawled back up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue, his hard cock pressing insistently against your soaked entrance through his pants.

Chan crawled up your body slowly, kissing every inch of skin he could reach — your stomach, between your breasts, your collarbone, your neck — until his face hovered over yours. His lips were shiny with your juices, eyes completely blown with lust. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he groaned into your mouth.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your lips, voice wrecked. “I could eat that pussy for hours and still beg for more.”

You were still trembling from the intense orgasm, breathing hard, when Chan sat back on his knees between your spread thighs. His hands moved to his belt, undoing it quickly, eyes never leaving your soaked, glistening pussy. He pushed his pants and boxers down in one motion, freeing his cock.

It slapped heavily against his abs, thick, veiny, and painfully hard. The head was dark red, already leaking precum steadily. He was huge — long and impressively thick, the same cock you had sucked in the car earlier, now even harder after tasting you.

“Fuck… look at what you do to me,” Chan groaned, wrapping his hand around the base and stroking himself slowly. His eyes were glued to your pussy, watching the way it clenched and dripped from the previous orgasm. “You’re so fucking wet… so pink and pretty. This pussy is dripping for my cock, isn’t it?”

He stroked himself a little faster, thumb spreading the precum over the head while staring at you like a predator. The wet sound of his hand moving on his thick shaft filled the room, mixing with your heavy breathing.

“Been thinking about burying this cock inside you since the party,” he confessed, voice low and filthy. “Imagining how tight you’d feel. How you’d stretch around me. Fuck… look how wet you are. You want it bad, don’t you, baby?”

You nodded, biting your lip, hips twitching slightly as you watched him jerk off while staring at your exposed pussy. Chan smirked, dark and dangerous, then leaned forward, gripping his cock tighter.

He started teasing you.

He slapped the heavy head of his cock against your clit a few times, making you jolt and moan. Then he began rubbing it up and down your slit — slow, deliberate strokes, coating his thick length with your wetness. The head nudged your entrance, pressing just slightly, before sliding up to rub your clit again in lazy circles.

“Feel that?” he groaned, voice strained. “Feel how hard I am for you? I’m leaking all over this pretty pussy. So fucking slippery… so warm.”

He kept brushing the head along your folds, teasing your entrance, pressing just the tip inside before pulling back out with a wet sound. Every time he did it you whimpered, trying to push your hips down to take him, but he held you still with his free hand on your thigh.

“Uh uh… not yet,” he teased, smirking. “I want to enjoy this. Want to paint this pussy with my cock first. Look how your little hole is twitching every time I touch it… so greedy.”

Chan continued the filthy teasing, rubbing his thick cockhead up and down, occasionally slapping it against your clit, making you moan louder each time. His breathing was ragged, hand stroking the base while he used the head to play with you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet it’s dripping down to your ass,” he groaned, voice getting rougher. “Such a messy girl. My messy girl. This pussy is so perfect… I’m gonna stretch you so good, baby. Gonna fill you up until you can’t think straight.”

He pressed the head against your entrance again, pushing just a little deeper this time, making you gasp. But he pulled back out immediately, continuing to rub and tease, enjoying the way your pussy clenched desperately around nothing.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he taunted, stroking himself faster while rubbing the head on your clit. “Want this fat cock splitting you open. I can see how bad you need it. This tight little hole is begging for me.”

Chan leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss while still rubbing his cock against your pussy. His tongue fucked your mouth in the same rhythm his cock teased your folds. You were moaning nonstop, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Please…” you whimpered against his mouth.

Chan pulled back, eyes dark, breathing heavily.

“Please what, baby?” he asked, pressing the head against your entrance again, circling it slowly. “Tell me what you want. Want me to fuck this pretty pussy? Want me to bury every inch inside you?”

He kept teasing, pushing just the tip in and pulling out, over and over, driving you crazy. His hand continued stroking the rest of his length, spreading your wetness all over himself.

“Tell me,” he growled, voice low and commanding. “Beg for my cock like a good girl.”

Your body was on fire. Every slow drag of his thick cockhead along your folds, every time he nudged your entrance, every filthy word made you wetter and more desperate. Chan looked completely lost in the sight — eyes fixed on where his cock touched your pussy, breathing hard, muscles tense.

He slapped his cock against your clit a few more times, then rubbed the head firmly against it in tight circles.

“Fuck… I could cum just from rubbing on you like this,” he groaned. “But I need to be inside you. Need to feel this tight pussy squeezing me.”

He positioned the head right at your entrance again, pressing forward slightly, stretching you open just a little. His eyes locked on yours, dark and intense.

“Ready for me, baby?” he asked, voice hoarse with lust, still teasing you with shallow movements. “Because once I slide in… I’m not stopping until you’re creaming all over my cock.”

“Please, Chan… stop teasing me,” you begged desperately, your voice breaking as you rolled your hips up, trying to take him deeper. “I need you. Fuck me already. Please, I want your cock so bad…”

Chan’s eyes flashed with raw hunger. He gripped his thick cock tightly, rubbing the swollen, leaking head up and down your dripping slit one final time before pressing it firmly against your entrance.

“You want it?” he growled, voice low and dangerous. “You want me to stretch this tight little pussy open?”

“Yes… fuck me, Chan. Please.”

With a deep, guttural groan, he finally pushed inside.

The thick head of his cock slowly forced its way past your entrance, stretching you wide. Chan’s mouth fell open instantly, letting out a long, broken, whiny moan that echoed through the bedroom.

“Fuuuuuuck… oh my god…” he moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as he sank deeper. “Your pussy is so fucking tight… so hot… shit, baby, you’re squeezing me so perfectly…”

He kept pushing in slowly, inch by thick inch, until his hips were pressed flush against yours, buried completely inside you. Chan let out the most pathetic, needy moan, his whole body trembling.

“Ahhh… fuck… I’m all the way in… so deep… your pussy feels incredible… so wet, so warm, so fucking tight around my cock…” he whimpered, forehead pressed against yours, breathing ragged. “I can feel you pulsing around me… Jesus Christ, this is the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

He stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling, letting you adjust to his size. Then he started moving — slow, deep thrusts at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in with a wet, obscene sound.

“Fuck… fuck… so good…” he moaned with every thrust, voice whiny and desperate. “Listen to how wet you are… you’re creaming all over my cock already, baby. Such a messy girl.”

You moaned loudly beneath him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as pleasure overwhelmed you. “Chan… you’re so big… you’re so deep…”

He groaned at your words, hips snapping harder. “Yeah? You like how my thick cock stretches you? Like feeling me so deep inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes… yes… harder, please…”

Chan’s control snapped. He grabbed your thighs, pushing them back toward your chest and started fucking you with raw, intense hunger. His hips slammed against yours, burying his cock to the hilt with every powerful thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin grew louder, wetter, filthier.

“Ahh— fuck! Yes… take it, baby,” he moaned loudly, voice breaking with every deep stroke. “Your pussy is sucking me in so greedily… so fucking tight… I’m losing my mind… nnghh!”

You cried out in pleasure, moaning his name shamelessly as he railed you. Chan’s moans were constant and shameless — deep, whiny, almost sobbing with how good it felt.

“Shit… shit… you feel too good… I’m gonna cum so fast if you keep squeezing me like that,” he whimpered, sweat dripping down his chest as he pounded into you harder. “This pussy is perfect… so wet… so hot… I wanna live inside you, fuck…”

He leaned down, pressing his chest against yours, mouth latching onto your neck as he fucked you even deeper. His hips moved in a brutal rhythm, slamming into you with force that made the bed creak loudly.

“Oh god… Chan… it’s so deep… you’re hitting so good…” you moaned, legs shaking around him.

“Yeah? Right here?” He angled his hips and started hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. “Here? You like when I fuck you right there, baby?”

“Yes! Yes— fuck, don’t stop!” you cried out, back arching violently.

Chan let out a string of broken, whiny moans right in your ear, completely lost in pleasure.

“Ahh… ahh… fuck, baby… your pussy is creaming so much… I can feel it dripping down my balls… you’re so fucking wet for me… so nasty… so perfect…”

He fucked you harder, faster, gripping your hips tightly as leverage while slamming into you without mercy. The wet, squelching sounds of his thick cock destroying your pussy were obscene.

“Nnghh… shit… I’m so deep… can you feel me in your stomach, baby?” he groaned, voice trembling. “This cock is yours tonight… gonna fuck this tight little cunt until you can’t walk straight… ahh, fuck!”

Your moans mixed with his — loud, desperate, and filthy. Every powerful thrust made your tits bounce, made you see stars, made you clench harder around his thick length.

Chan’s moans were getting louder, more pathetic, more addictive.

“Fuuuuck… you’re gonna make me cum… this pussy is too good… too fucking tight… I’m addicted already… gonna fuck you all night… gonna fill you up…”

He kept pounding into you relentlessly, sweat-slicked bodies sliding together, mouths occasionally meeting in sloppy, desperate kisses as he railed you deep and hard.

Chan didn’t slow down even for a second.

He kept pounding into you from behind with deep, brutal thrusts, his thick cock stretching your cum-filled pussy over and over. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass was loud and filthy, mixed with the wet squelching of your soaked cunt taking every inch.

“Fuck— fuck— fuck—” Chan moaned loudly, voice whiny and desperate as he yanked your hair harder, forcing your head back. “This pussy is so fucking good… still so tight even after I filled you up… ahh, shit!”

He spanked your ass hard, the sharp crack echoing through the room. Then again. And again. Each slap made you clench around him, pulling another broken moan from his throat.

“Nnghh— yes! Squeeze my cock just like that,” he whimpered, hips snapping faster. “You’re such a dirty little whore… taking my cum and still begging for more… fuck, I love this pussy.”

You were moaning uncontrollably, face pressed into the sheets, ass up high as he destroyed you. Every powerful thrust made your body jolt forward, your tits bouncing underneath you.

“Chan— oh my god— it’s so deep!” you cried out, voice hoarse.

“Yeah? You feel me in your stomach, baby?” he growled, pulling your hair tighter while railing you mercilessly. “You feel how deep I’m fucking you? This cock is ruining this tight little cunt.”

He spanked you again, harder this time, then grabbed both cheeks and spread them wide so he could watch his thick cock disappearing inside you. The sight made him moan loudly, almost pathetically.

“Fuuuuck… look at that… your pussy is creaming so much… white all over my cock… so fucking nasty,” he whimpered, voice trembling with pleasure. “I’m gonna fuck you until you’re leaking my cum for days.”

Chan suddenly changed the angle, leaning forward and pressing your upper body down into the mattress while keeping your ass up. He started fucking you even harder, short and brutal thrusts that hit your g-spot perfectly.

“Ahh— ahh— fuck! Right there— don’t stop!” you screamed, gripping the sheets tightly.

“I’m not stopping,” he moaned right next to your ear, sweat dripping from his chest onto your back. “I’m gonna fuck this pussy until you can’t take anymore… until you’re shaking and crying on my cock.”

His moans were getting louder, whinier, more desperate. Every thrust came with a broken sound — deep, needy, and shameless.

“Nnghh— shit… your cunt is squeezing me so hard… I can feel my cum inside you… so warm… so fucking messy,” he whimpered, spanking your ass again. “You’re my cumdump tonight, baby. My dirty little cumslut.”

He reached around and rubbed your swollen clit with fast, rough circles while continuing to pound into you. Your moans turned into loud, broken screams as another orgasm built rapidly inside you.

“Chan— I’m gonna cum again— please— I’m so close!” you cried out.

“Cum for me— cum on my cock like the slut you are,” he demanded, voice shaking. “I want to feel you throbbing… wanna feel this pussy milking me while I fuck you stupid… ahh, fuck— cum right now!”

You shattered hard, screaming his name as your third orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched violently around his cock, gushing around him as your whole body shook.

Chan moaned loudly, almost sobbing in pleasure as he felt you cum.

“Fuuuuck— yes! Just like that… squeezing me so fucking tight… good girl— such a good fucking girl,” he whimpered, still thrusting through your orgasm, prolonging it.

He didn’t stop.

Even as you trembled and gasped, he kept fucking you through it, hips slamming against your ass with wet, filthy sounds. His moans were constant and broken.

“Ahh… ahh… I can’t stop… your pussy feels too good… I’m gonna cum again… gonna fill you up even more,” he whined, voice high and desperate.

He grabbed your hips with both hands and started railing you with savage intensity — fast, deep, and animalistic. The bed creaked violently under the force of his thrusts.

“Take it— take my fucking cock— take another load, baby,” he moaned, voice cracking. “I’m so close… your cunt is milking me… fuck— I’m cumming— I’m cumming!”

With a loud, broken, whiny moan, Chan buried himself as deep as possible and came hard inside you again. His cock throbbed violently, pumping thick ropes of hot cum deep into your already full pussy. He kept thrusting through his orgasm, whimpering and moaning pathetically as he emptied himself.

“Fuuuuck— take it all… take every drop… such a good cumslut… ahhh, shit!”

He stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, both of you breathing heavily, bodies slick with sweat. His cock twitched inside your overflowing pussy, cum already leaking out around him.

But Chan wasn’t done.

He slowly pulled out, watching with dark eyes as his cum dripped from your abused hole. Then he flipped you onto your back again, spreading your legs wide.

“We’re not finished yet, baby,” he growled, voice hoarse but still hungry. “I’m nowhere near done with this pussy tonight.”

Chan was still breathing heavily, his cock buried deep inside you, cum leaking out around his thickness. But instead of pulling out and stopping, he wrapped his arms around you and rolled over, switching positions so he was lying on his back with you on top of him.

You were exhausted, legs shaking, body limp from the multiple orgasms, but Chan clearly wasn’t done.

“Ride me,” he demanded, voice low and husky, gripping your hips tightly. “I want to watch you bounce on my cock. Come on, baby… show me how much you want it.”

Even tired, the way he looked at you — eyes dark, lips parted, chest heaving — made heat flood through your body again. You placed your hands on his muscular chest for balance and slowly lifted your hips, feeling his thick cock slide almost all the way out before sinking back down.

Both of you moaned loudly at the same time.

“Fuuuuck…” Chan groaned, head falling back against the pillow, eyes rolling. “That’s it… just like that. Ride my cock, baby. Use me.”

You started moving, rolling your hips before bouncing slowly on his thick length. Every time you sank down, his cock stretched you open again, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. The wet, filthy sound of your soaked pussy taking him was loud in the room.

Chan’s hands gripped your ass tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he watched you with pure lust.

“Shit— look at you,” he moaned, voice whiny and desperate. “Bouncing on my cock like a good little slut… your tits look so fucking perfect like this. Keep going, baby. Ride me harder.”

You picked up the pace, bouncing faster, taking him deeper with every movement. Chan’s moans grew louder, more broken, more pathetic. His fingers dug harder into your hips, helping you move up and down on his cock.

“Ahh— fuck! Yes, baby… just like that,” he whimpered, eyes fixed on where your pussy swallowed his thick cock over and over. “You’re so fucking wet… I can hear how messy you are. My cum is dripping out of you while you ride me… such a nasty, perfect girl.”

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as you rode him with more intensity. The angle made his cock hit deep inside you, rubbing against all the right spots. Chan’s hands moved up to squeeze your bouncing tits, pinching your nipples hard as he thrust up to meet your movements.

“Chan— oh my god… you’re so deep…” you moaned, riding him faster.

“Yeah? You feel me stretching this cum-filled pussy?” he groaned, voice trembling. “Bounce harder, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock. Use me like your personal toy.”

You obeyed, bouncing aggressively on him. The sound of your ass slapping against his thighs mixed with both of your loud moans. Chan was losing control again — moaning shamelessly, whiny and desperate, hips bucking up to fuck you from below.

“Fuuuuck— your pussy is creaming so much… look at the mess on my cock,” he whimpered, eyes glued to the white ring forming around the base of his shaft. “You’re so fucking tight… so warm… I can’t get enough of this cunt.”

He suddenly sat up, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other tangled in your hair. Face to face now, he kissed you messily, tongues sliding together as you kept riding him hard. His moans vibrated into your mouth.

“Mmmph— ride me just like that,” he groaned against your lips. “Bounce on this cock, baby. Milk me. Take everything.”

You rode him with everything you had left, hips moving fast and deep. Chan’s grip on your hair tightened as he started thrusting up harder, meeting every bounce with powerful strokes.

“Ahh— fuck! Chan— I’m gonna cum again!” you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Cum— cum all over my cock,” he moaned, voice breaking. “I want to feel you squeezing me while you ride me… be a good girl and cum for me, baby— ahhh, shit!”

Your orgasm hit you hard while you were still bouncing on him. You screamed his name, walls clenching violently around his thick cock as you trembled on top of him. Chan moaned loudly, almost sobbing in pleasure as he felt you cum.

“Fuuuuck— yes! Squeeze me just like that… good girl… such a good fucking girl,” he whimpered, still thrusting up into you through your orgasm.

He didn’t let you stop riding. Even as you shook and gasped, he kept guiding your hips, fucking up into you with desperate, needy thrusts.

“I’m close again… your pussy is too good… gonna fill you up one more time,” he moaned, voice high and whiny. “Keep riding me, baby— don’t stop… milk my cock… take my cum deep inside you…”

You kept bouncing on him, tired but eager, until Chan buried his face in your neck and came hard with a long, broken moan, pumping even more cum deep into your already overflowing pussy.

Both of you were exhausted, bodies covered in sweat, breathing heavy and uneven. Chan’s cock was still buried deep inside you, slowly softening, but he didn’t pull out. He stayed there, holding you close, placing soft, lazy kisses along your collarbone and neck while you both tried to catch your breath.

After a long moment, he lifted his head and looked at you, eyes still dark but gentler now. His hair was messy, lips swollen, face flushed.

“…You okay?” he asked softly, voice hoarse. “We can stop if you’re too tired, baby. I know I’ve been rough.”

You were tired — legs shaking, body sore in the best way — but you didn’t want it to end yet. You shook your head, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“I still want you,” you whispered, voice small and whiny. “Just… slower now. Please?”

Chan’s eyes softened. He gave you a small, tired smile and nodded.

“Yeah… I want you too.”

He gently pulled out of you, making you both moan softly at the feeling. Then he carefully laid you on your back and positioned himself between your spread legs. This time there was no rush. He hovered over you, supporting his weight on his forearms, and looked down at your face with heavy-lidded eyes.

He leaned down and kissed you slowly, deeply, tongues sliding together in a lazy, sensual dance. The kiss was full of need, but softer now — almost tender. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you whimpered into his mouth.

Chan reached down, lined himself up, and slowly pushed back inside you. Both of you moaned softly against each other’s lips as he sank in deep.

“Fuck… still so warm,” he breathed, forehead pressed against yours. “You feel so good, baby.”

He started moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips, grinding into you instead of pounding. Every thrust was deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him. You moaned whiny and soft, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back.

“Chan…” you whimpered against his lips, voice needy and sweet. “Feels so good… don’t stop…”

“I won’t,” he murmured, kissing you again, slower this time. His tongue explored your mouth as he rocked into you gently, hips pressing deep and staying there for a moment before pulling back and doing it again.

He kissed your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then back to your lips — never stopping the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips. You were being so whiny, moaning softly every time he bottomed out, fingers tangled in his hair.

“More kisses…” you pleaded quietly, almost pouting.

Chan smiled against your mouth and gave you exactly what you wanted. He kissed you deeply, passionately, but gently — long, slow kisses that made your heart race even as your body melted under him. He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough of your taste, like he wanted to memorize the feeling of your lips.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you moan like that,” he whispered between kisses, still rolling his hips in that perfect, deep rhythm. “So soft… so whiny for me… I love hearing you.”

You whimpered loudly, pulling him even closer as you kissed him again, tongues sliding together messily. Chan groaned softly into your mouth, one hand gently cupping your face while the other held your thigh, keeping you spread open for him.

Every thrust was slow and sensual. He wasn’t fucking you anymore — he was making love to you. Deep, grinding strokes that made you feel full and claimed. You kept moaning softly, whiny and needy, every sound muffled by his constant kisses.

“Chan… it feels so good…” you whimpered against his lips, eyes half-closed in pleasure.

“I know, baby… I know,” he breathed, kissing you again, deeper this time. “You feel perfect around me. So warm… so wet… I could stay inside you forever like this.”

He kept kissing you nonstop — your lips, your neck, your jaw, back to your lips again. Soft, wet, lingering kisses mixed with slow, deep thrusts. Your bodies moved together in a gentle rhythm, skin sliding against skin, both of you sweaty and tired but completely lost in each other.

You were so whiny, moaning sweetly every time he rolled his hips, fingers clutching his back, legs wrapped tightly around him.

“Kiss me more…” you begged softly, voice trembling.

Chan obliged immediately, capturing your lips in another long, slow kiss, tongue gently playing with yours as he continued those deep, sensual thrusts. The pleasure was different now — warmer, heavier, more intimate.

He stayed like that for a long time — slow, deep, and constant — kissing you like he never wanted to stop, fucking you gently while you whimpered and moaned beneath him, completely wrapped up in each other.

Chan kept that slow, deep rhythm, rolling his hips in a sensual grind as he stayed buried inside you. His forehead rested against yours, breaths mingling, lips brushing every few seconds in soft, lazy kisses. The room was quiet except for the wet sound of his cock slowly moving in and out of your cum-filled pussy and the soft, needy whimpers leaving your lips.

“You feel so good…” you whined quietly, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper. “So deep… Chan, please don’t stop…”

“I won’t, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, kissing you again — slow and wet. “I’m not stopping until we both cum again.”

He kissed you deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours as his hips moved in long, deliberate strokes. Every time he bottomed out, he stayed there for a second, grinding his pelvis against your clit before pulling back and doing it all over again. The pleasure was thick, heavy, and overwhelming in the best way.

Your moans were soft and whiny, almost pathetic, every time he filled you completely. You kept kissing him desperately, fingers tangled in his messy hair, legs shaking around him.

Chan’s breathing was getting heavier. His kisses became more urgent, more messy. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, still so hard even after cumming twice already.

“Fuck… you’re squeezing me again,” he groaned softly, voice hoarse. “So tight… so warm… I can feel my cum inside you every time I move.”

He kissed you harder, one hand gently holding the side of your face while the other slid down to grip your thigh, pulling it higher around his waist. His thrusts started getting a little faster, a little deeper, but still sensual.

You whimpered into his mouth, nails gently scratching his back.

“Chan… I’m getting close again…” you moaned softly, voice trembling.

“Yeah?” he breathed, kissing you between words. “Me too, baby. You feel too fucking good… I don’t wanna stop.”

He started moving with more purpose, still deep but picking up a steady pace. His moans were getting louder, whinier, right against your lips.

“Ahh… fuck, baby… your pussy is creaming so much around me,” he whimpered, voice breaking. “So wet… so fucking warm… I can feel everything.”

You kissed him desperately, moaning into his mouth as the pleasure built higher. Chan’s hips snapped a little harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust now.

“Kiss me— please kiss me,” you whined.

Chan immediately obeyed, capturing your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss, tongues sliding together messily as he fucked you harder. His moans were constant now, needy and broken.

“Mmmph— fuck… I’m getting so close,” he groaned against your lips, voice trembling. “Your pussy is squeezing me so tight… gonna make me cum again… ahh, shit— you feel so good, baby.”

He buried his face in your neck, sucking on your skin while his hips moved faster, pounding into you with deep, desperate strokes. His moans were right in your ear now — loud, whiny, and completely shameless.

“Fuuuuck… I’m so close… so fucking close,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “Your pussy is too perfect… gonna fill you up again… gonna cum so deep inside you…”

You were moaning loudly now, legs shaking violently around him as your orgasm approached.

“Chan— I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, clinging to him.

“Cum with me, baby— cum on my cock,” he moaned desperately, thrusting harder. “I’m right there… fuck— I’m cumming— I’m cumming!”

Chan’s hips stuttered as he buried himself as deep as possible. His whole body tensed and he let out a long, broken, whiny moan right next to your ear as he started cumming hard.

“Fuuuuck— ahhh! I’m cumming… I’m cumming so much— take it, baby… take all my cum!” he cried out, voice trembling and high.

You came at the same time, screaming his name as your pussy clenched violently around him, milking every drop. Chan kept moaning loudly, almost sobbing with pleasure as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum deep inside you.

“Ahh… ahh… fuck… so good… you’re milking me so well…” he whimpered, still thrusting slowly through both of your orgasms, drawing them out as long as possible.

He kept kissing you through it — messy, tired kisses, tongues lazily sliding together while he emptied himself completely inside you. His body trembled on top of yours, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your skin.

When it finally slowed down, Chan collapsed on top of you, face buried in your neck, breathing heavily. His cock was still twitching inside your overflowing pussy, cum leaking out around him with every small movement.

Both of you stayed like that for a long time — sweaty, exhausted, and completely satisfied — trading soft, lazy kisses while trying to catch your breath.

Chan pressed one last gentle kiss to your lips and whispered against them:

“…Stay the night with me.”

Chan stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, both of you breathing heavily, bodies slick with sweat and trembling. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, lips pressing lazy, tired kisses against your skin while his cock gave one last weak twitch inside you.

Finally, he let out a long, satisfied sigh and slowly pulled out. A thick stream of his cum leaked from your abused pussy, dripping onto the sheets. You whimpered softly at the feeling, too tired to even move.

Chan rolled onto his side and pulled you against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you. One hand gently stroked your back while the other brushed damp hair away from your face.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice hoarse and raspy from all the moaning. He kissed your forehead, then your temple. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as reality slowly started hitting you.

“…I just let a famous race car driver fuck me senseless in his penthouse,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “Multiple times. And I rode him. And begged. And let him cum inside me… twice.”

Chan let out a tired but amused laugh, his chest vibrating against you.

“Yeah… you did,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh harder. “And you were very enthusiastic about it, might I add.”

You covered your face with both hands, mortified but also laughing weakly.

“Oh my god… what the hell did I do? I don’t even do this kind of thing. I’m not… I’m not the ‘go home with a stranger and get railed for hours’ type of girl. Mina is going to kill me when I tell her. Or she’s going to ask for details. Probably both.”

Chan chuckled and gently pulled your hands away from your face, looking at you with a lazy, satisfied smile.

“Hey, you were incredible,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “And for the record… I don’t usually bring girls back here either. So we’re both a little crazy tonight.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest, cheeks burning.

“I can’t feel my legs properly. I think you broke me.”

“Good,” he teased, kissing the top of your head. “Means I did my job right.”

After a few more minutes of quiet cuddling and soft kisses, Chan sat up slowly.

“Come on. Let’s take a shower. You’re covered in sweat and cum… and I probably am too.”

He stood up first, completely naked and still looking unfairly hot even after everything. Then he leaned down and scooped you up like you weighed nothing. You let out a surprised squeak, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Chan! I can walk!” you protested, even though your legs were shaking.

“Barely,” he replied with a smirk, carrying you toward the bathroom. “Let me be nice for five minutes.”

The bathroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment — huge rainfall shower, marble everywhere, and soft warm lighting. Chan turned on the water, waited for it to get hot, and then stepped in with you still in his arms.

He set you down carefully, but kept an arm around your waist to support you. The hot water felt like heaven on your sore body. Chan grabbed a soft sponge and gently washed you — your chest, your stomach, between your legs with surprising care. He was quiet now, focused, pressing occasional soft kisses to your shoulder.

“You’re being suspiciously sweet after railing me like that,” you mumbled, half-joking, half-suspicious.

Chan laughed softly, turning you around so he could wash your back.

“I can be sweet. Sometimes,” he said, kissing the back of your neck. “Especially after making you scream my name for two hours straight.”

You groaned again, embarrassed, and leaned back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you under the warm water.

After the shower, Chan gave you one of his oversized soft t-shirts to wear. It reached mid-thigh on you and smelled like him. He carried you back to the bed (despite your weak protests) and pulled the clean sheets over both of you.

You were beyond exhausted. Your body felt heavy, legs sore, mind fuzzy. Chan pulled you into his arms again, your head resting on his chest, one of his hands gently stroking your hair.

“Stay the night,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t even think about leaving. You can barely stand.”

You wanted to argue, but you were already drifting off. The last thing you felt was Chan’s warm body against yours, his fingers still gently playing with your hair, and the soft sound of his heartbeat under your cheek.

“…Okay,” you mumbled sleepily, already half gone. “Just… don’t tell anyone I acted like a complete whore tonight.”

Chan chuckled quietly, hugging you tighter.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Within seconds, you were fast asleep in Bang Chan’s arms, in his massive bed, in his luxurious penthouse.

And for the first time in a long time… you felt completely at peace

You woke up slowly, the soft morning light filtering through familiar curtains. Your body felt heavy, sore in places you didn’t even know could get sore. You blinked a few times, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

This was… your room.

Your apartment. Your bed. Your messy desk in the corner with the half-dead plant you always forgot to water.

“…What the hell?” you mumbled, sitting up with a groan. Your thighs ached. Your neck had a few suspicious marks. And between your legs… well, you definitely felt what had happened last night.

You looked down. You were wearing an oversized black t-shirt that definitely wasn’t yours. It smelled like expensive cologne and Chan.

Before you could process anything, your bedroom door burst open.

“GOOD MORNING, MISS ‘I don’t go home with famous guys’!” Mina sang loudly, walking in with two cups of coffee like she owned the place. She was already fully dressed, makeup on, looking far too energetic for someone who had been at the same party.

You stared at her, brain still buffering.

“Mina…? How— when did I get home?”

Mina grinned like a shark that had just smelled blood. She sat on the edge of your bed and handed you one of the coffees.

“Chan brought you home around 7 AM. You were dead asleep in his arms like a little princess. He carried you from the car all the way to your bed. Very romantic, by the way. I almost took pictures but I was being respectful.”

You blinked slowly, trying to connect the dots.

“I… don’t remember that at all.”

“Yeah, because you were completely knocked out,” Mina laughed. “He knocked on the door, holding you like a bride, and asked if he could put you in bed. I obviously said yes. Then he tucked you in, kissed your forehead, and told me to text him when you woke up. Very smooth. Very hot. 10/10.”

You pulled the blanket over your head, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe I let him bring me home. I was supposed to call an Uber or something. I wasn’t planning on… staying the night.”

Mina yanked the blanket down, eyes sparkling with pure evil delight.

“Girl. You disappeared with Bang Chan for hours. You came back wearing his shirt, covered in hickeys, and walking like you rode a mechanical bull for six rounds. Don’t even try to play shy now. Spill. How was it? Was he big? Did he eat it good? Was he rough? I need details, bestie. I stayed up waiting for this.”

You buried your face in your hands, cheeks burning.

“Mina, I— we… yeah. A lot. Multiple times. He was… very enthusiastic. And vocal. Like, really vocal. Whiny. Moaning a lot. And he has stamina from hell. I lost count after the third round.”

Mina screamed dramatically and shook your shoulders.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it! The way he was eye-fucking you at the table? I told you! And he brought you home? That’s boyfriend behavior. Pilots don’t usually do that.”

You peeked through your fingers, still mortified.

“I woke up thinking I was still in his penthouse… and now I’m here. I don’t even remember leaving his bed. I just remember… being really tired and him kissing my hair.”

Mina fake-swooned, hand on her chest.

“He kissed your hair? I’m gonna cry. That’s so cute. So he’s a gentleman after rearranging your guts? I respect it.”

You threw a pillow at her, laughing despite your embarrassment.

“Stop! I feel like I got hit by a truck. My legs are dead. I think I have bruises on my ass. He spanked me. A lot.”

Mina’s eyes widened with pure joy.

“Yes! King behavior! Did he pull your hair too? Choke you? Tell me he’s a freak, I need this.”

You nodded, hiding your face again.

“He’s… very freaky. But also sweet after. He showered with me, gave me his shirt, carried me to bed… I don’t know what to think. I literally went from ‘I’m not that kind of girl’ to ‘let me ride you while you fill me up’ in one night.”

Mina cackled, almost spilling her coffee.

“Welcome to the club, bestie. One night with Bang Chan and you’re walking funny. I’m so proud of you. My little slut is all grown up.”

You groaned again, but you were smiling.

“I’m never drinking again. Or going to parties. Or looking at Ferraris. Or handsome pilots. This was a mistake.”

Mina raised an eyebrow.

“So… are you gonna text him?”

You paused.

“…Maybe. He told you to let him know when I woke up.”

Mina grinned mischievously and pulled out her phone.

“Already did. I sent him a picture of you sleeping with his shirt on. Caption: ‘Your girl is alive. Barely.’”

You screamed and lunged for her phone.

“Mina!”

She laughed loudly, holding the phone away from you.

“Relax! He replied with a heart emoji and said he’ll call you later. See? He’s whipped already.”

You fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, equal parts horrified and giddy.

“I can’t believe I had sex with Bang Chan… multiple times… and now he wants to call me.”

Mina lay down next to you, bumping your shoulder.

“Best night of your life, right?”

You were quiet for a second, then smiled shyly.

“…Yeah. It really was.”

Mina squealed and hugged you sideways.

“That’s my girl! Now tell me everything. Start from when you left the party. I want the uncensored version.”

You were still lying in bed, laughing with Mina as you told her (with heavy censorship) some details from the night before. After a few minutes, you decided you really needed to change clothes. Your body was deliciously sore, but you couldn’t stand wearing just Chan’s huge shirt anymore.

“Wait, I’m gonna change real quick,” you said, getting up slowly with a groan.

Mina dramatically threw herself onto your bed and took a sip of her coffee.

“Go ahead, take it all off. I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. No shame, you little slut.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled the oversized shirt over your head, leaving you in just your panties. That’s when it happened.

You looked down at your body to check the damage Chan had left… and froze.

Right in the center of your chest, between your breasts, was his signature in bold black permanent marker — big, stylish, exactly like the autographs he usually gives. And written right underneath it in clear capital letters:

“PROPERTY OF BANG CHAN"

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“…No.”

Mina, who had been scrolling on her phone, looked up.

“What’s wrong?”

You pointed at your own chest in pure shock.

Mina’s eyes widened. She slowly sat up on the bed and let out the loudest scream you’d ever heard in your life.

“HOLY FUUUUUUUUCK!!!”

She jumped up and got closer, almost spilling her coffee, staring at your breasts like they were the most ridiculous masterpiece she’d ever seen.

“He signed them?! He literally signed your tits?! And wrote ‘PROPERTY OF BANG CHAN’?! Girl, this isn’t fanfiction anymore, this is straight-up 2000s porn plot shit!”

You stood there, mouth open, still staring down at your chest.

“I… I can’t believe he did this. When the hell did he even…?”

“Probably while you were passed out from all the orgasms,” Mina said with zero filter, still staring. “Jesus Christ, look at his handwriting. It’s actually pretty. The man has style even when marking his territory.”

You covered your face with both hands, mortified but also laughing nervously.

“I’m going to kill him. I swear to God I’m going to kill him. How am I supposed to remove this? It’s permanent marker! Mina, I have a meeting tomorrow!”

Mina burst out laughing, holding her stomach.

“Imagine you in a serious meeting, open your blazer and there it is — ‘Property of Bang Chan’ written across your tits. Best presentation of your life.”

“Stop laughing! This isn’t funny!” you complained, but you were already laughing with her, half-hysterical.

“It’s extremely funny! The man fucked you until your brain melted and still had time to autograph you like you were one of his posters. This is peak degeneracy. He treated you like an official trophy.”

You looked down at your chest again and sighed, gently running your fingers over the signature.

“…His handwriting is kind of nice, though.”

Mina threw a pillow at your face.

“Don’t you dare start thinking it’s cute! He literally branded you like cattle! Next step is a collar with his name on it.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you walked to the mirror to see it better.

“I still can’t believe I let him do this. I don’t even remember him grabbing a pen. I must have blacked out hard.”

“You blacked out so hard that he managed to bring you home, put you in bed, and you still didn’t wake up,” Mina said, standing behind you and looking at your reflection in the mirror. “But honestly… it looks kinda aesthetic. If you two ever break up, you could sell your tits as official Bang Chan memorabilia. You’d make a fortune.”

You turned to her, pretending to be shocked.

“You are a horrible person.”

“And you’re the girl who woke up with a famous pilot’s signature on her boobs. We’re perfect for each other.”

You shook your head, still laughing, and started looking for clothes that could hide the “artwork” as much as possible.

Just then, your phone vibrated on the nightstand.

It was a message from Chan.

Chan:

Good morning, beautiful. How are you feeling? Did you see my little gift yet? 😌

You showed the screen to Mina.

She screamed again.

“He’s even worse than I thought. Reply right now. Tell him you’re getting it tattooed permanently.”

You threw the phone onto the bed, laughing and dying of embarrassment at the same time.

This was going to be one hell of a morning