Day 1, Sleep Sex (Joy)

Dreams turn into reality, and turnabout is fair play.

It’s who-the-fuck-knows o'clock a.m., and you’re still up because of the way your nympho girlfriend Sooyoung couldn’t wait until you were awake to ride your dick last night. She’d say: to be fair, she was out late what with photoshoots, radio event, the usual schedules. But you know the true words were in her meaningless groans as her pussy wrenched your cock dry. Left you napping at work ten minutes every hour, on the hour—good thing everyone was too busy with their Friday wrap-ups.

Of course, now Sooyoung gets to lay peacefully on the mattress; however, a few jostles and turns later, and the sheets become crinkled, her limbs splattered, peace betrayed. Might as well betray that peace some more. Give her gentle kisses. Her delicious neck. Her oft-rosy cheeks. Her smooth shoulders and toned tummy and long legs, and yet she’s still asleep. Must be nice. Kneel between her already spread legs, resolute when you whip out your cock. All it takes is one slip of her pale blue panties down her thighs. (There it is, the smallest dark dot on the fabric.) But a slip is also all it takes to rouse her from her slumber, so you ease down to ensure that none of your breaths are louder than the crickets outside.

Then you ease in. Your motions are deliberate as you dig your hands into the bed, to both get leverage and avoid falling onto Sooyoung and waking her up. Soft lips coax open to your cockhead. A raw feeling of warmth. She whimpers, even brings the back of her wrist up to her mouth, but she’s been making all sorts of little noises and spontaneous gestures the moment you entered the room, and Sooyoung doesn’t seem to react further. A question takes up modest residence in your head next to velvety sensations around your shaft: Where? Cum inside her? Maybe on her face, or in a tissue in the bathroom in regret? No, there’s no regret. The slide back out has less friction, and the slick responsible for the smooth motions—in, out, careful—gives your hands an idea. First, a few more slow pushes which already have you dribbling small beads of cum. Then, pull. When her pussy swallows only the head of your dick, instead of exiting completely, you sweep your fingers around your shaft. Both hands synchronize their strokes up and down as you prepare to unload.

Sooyoung bites her lip, then a knuckle. Your hands stop pumping since she’s astir in all but her tightly sealed eyes. Dreams be damned, her hands fumble their way down to your crotch and finish the job. Your eyelids fasten. Rich dreams fly past the almost pure black of the back of those lids. White flies in. You always flew in your dreams; they always made folly. The image of two birds in a nest, and a cracked egg. To soar, you had to break. This is a dream. This is not a dream.

It can’t be.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself lying on your right side while she’s on her left. Sooyoung’s gaze finds yours and quiets down any excuses or apologies. She falls back on her back. Sticky on her folds, some inside her entrance, while one drop of semen spills onto pale blue cloth. The rest of the blanket between her legs is smudged.

“Tsk. Who’s complaining now?“ Sooyoung wipes up with a couple of fingers between her legs, pushes some back in. "Fuck, babe, I know it should be me, but your cum feels so good like that. Ahem. Tissues?”

Somehow it sounds like a query and command at the same time. A finger between her legs takes that drop to her taste buds.

“Never mind.” Deemed already ruined, her underwear becomes a cleaning rag after she pulls it off her legs, then a perverse dish when her tongue becomes the cleaning rag. She didn’t have to show off that she cleaned all of it up, but you know her, the way it gives her pride. Sooyoung puts the panties back on, no doubt letting your creampie be there tomorrow when she fucks your morning wood silly once again.

Day 2, Breeding (Luda)

Safe. That’s how it’s always been between you and Luda. Wholesome, cute, snuggly cuddles. Even when you had sex with her, it was a sweet and lovely deal. Lots of kisses, lots of foreplay, pillow talk, aftercare, and lots of light caresses of each other’s cheeks. You expect the usual behavior when Luda comes home from the bar with her friends, and though you’re exhausted from your usual workout, you certainly would not say no if she offered. Yet less chaste ideas than vanilla sex plague your mind.

Luda tries to open your apartment door quietly, but she stumbles a bit, and her friends’ goodbyes are sharp anyway. Then, she’s a flurry of movement: She’s already straddling your waist as you lounge on the couch, waking you up from your nap.

“Oppa” is how you understand Luda’s call for you, but her speech comes out like a single syllable. She’s just in an old shirt of yours, simple white cotton that falls further down her small frame than her usual clothes though it barely covers her legs. If she were wearing something longer, you would still know that she doesn’t have underwear on; her crotch is too warm on your sweatpants. You swear you saw her wear something a bit nicer when she came in the door. A splash of water would be nice to fully wake you up. Unfortunately, the weight on your lap won’t let you move. “Oppa!” she repeats, a whiny higher pitch at the end of the word.

“I’m sorry,” you slowly rasp out. “I’m tired.”

She rocks back and forth. “Your dick?”

“Huh?”

“Is your dick tired?”

By its absolute firmness, pressed on by Luda’s unabashed heat, it seems to work on a different schedule than you.

“I was just thinking…” Luda nibbles on her thumb. “My girls were talking at the bar about who’d be the best boyfriend at breeding.”

“You talk about that?”

“Mhmmm.” The affirmation turns into a long moan. She sinks down, pressing her heat on you. “I know you talk about it with your guys.”

“Not like that!” Your rebuttal wakes you a bit, and you wipe some crust off the corner of your eye. A few lights open in other apartments across from you, one or two cars racing down the street, a black sky.

“You wanna do that to me, right?” Guess that rebuttal was meaningless. “You wanna put a baby in me.”

So that’s what plagued your mind. It was a cracked egg. But the egg lost its cracks, reforming to its original ovoid shape. Then, life. It came out. No, more specific, less abstract. You were in the middle of filling Luda’s tight pussy up in your imagination tonight. Your gulp is dry.

Luckily, a glass of water on the coffee table. You sit up a bit, down half, and offer the rest to her which she accepts, but not without an adorable petulant bounce on your lap when you say, “Probably not when you’re drunk.“

“Why not? I wanna be a mommy. And I knoow you want to be a daddy.”

“That’s different. Tsk. You’re drunk. And we’re a ways away from…” Luda’s pout shuts you up and she’s grinding on top of you as hard as she can, as though the simple motion of your hips will get your cock in here. It’s not unreasonable. A defter touch and she could slip off your pants then replace your underwear with her pussy as your dick’s imprisonment of choice. Definitely tempting.

Tempting enough that you take initiative and slide her down your legs, bringing your sweatpants and boxers along. Pull her back up your thighs and wriggle those garments off your ankles.

“Fuck it.” Besides, she’s on—

“By the way, mister, I haven’t taken the pill. It was annoying. Now, who cares about that? I miss your cock. So big, and it gives me so much warm cum.” She displays her yearning in the clumsy grasp of her fingers.

Luda quickly replaces the fingers with her delicious folds. They swathe so softly, but you can hear the slick sounds they make against your shaft.

“If I just pop this right inside,” she says, and a swipe of your cock’s tip against her clit gives her chills, “you would probably breed me so well. Right, daddy?”

“Damn… but we really can’t.”

She gets off and sits back on the couch. “Ugh. You’re riiight. But are you happy?”

“Luda, I’m happy every moment I’m with you.” You find a condom in your wallet, also on that coffee table. Roll it on. “Plus I feel all my energy getting back. We can fuck as hard as you want without worrying.”

“Bring it then,” Luda says.

You pull her waist to the edge of the couch and line your cock up to her entrance. Her fingers fondle the latex ring at the base of your shaft. A slight twist down at the corner of her lip but her smile returns when she takes both hands around your width. She nods. Push.

“Ffuck, that feels so good.”

A similar breathy sigh pushes Luda’s pouty lips while your cock pushes up into her lowering body. “Nnh, I thought so. I know you said you’d fuck me really hard b-but. Please, we’ve had sex so many times. We don’t need the condom, right? J-just, let me… once, one time, just the tip. And, and you can put it back on after. Right?”

It’s the boldest lie you can’t reject. “Fine.”

Usually, when you pull out, cum on her pert ass or her adorable face, she doesn’t have the smirk she has as you peel off the protection quickly and toss it to the side. She lowers her small body once again—not a second of pretense that she’ll take just the tip—then leans down to your reclined head. A few smooches on your cheek becomes her rambling voice in your ears while she bounces up and down on your cock.

"I promise, I promise, I’ll be a good girl.”

Can’t believe that, but there’s no point protesting now, her walls blissful on your sensitive member.

“'Cause apparently you don’t want to have a baby with me. Don’t wanna be a daddy. Hmph. I won’t wrap my legs around you, or beg and whimper and whine like a needy slut, or nibble at your neck and lips,” Luda says as she nibbles at your neck and lips.

The growl within you escapes at the same pace as she does off your dick, a slow lift which flaunts how urgently her folds hang on.

“Promise, I won’t make you forget that your bare cock is filling me up because I’m such a good… fuck. See, it’s, it’s just, just the tip. You won’t be a daddy like this. I’m not moving, no, no, I can’t, I’m not, my hips are, hah, they’re still. Wh-why is your fingers… my clit… make me cum… clench, milk your tip. It’s so big. I shouldn’t move, I can’t move, you’re gonna make me cum and drip and throb and make you cum and that’s so bad. Hmph, please, don’t make me a bad girl, make me break promises, I-I—”

Stammered breaths and tense thighs herald your body’s end times. Now or never, decide. Are you going to give in to temptation?

Luda helps with your decision-making. “Don’t you wanna make me a mommy? Don’t you fuck all your cum into me? You could feel how wet I really am, how my pussy grips and begs, how that load fills me up, and up, and forever. No pulling out, no condom, just me and you. Breed me. Cum, fuck, cum, breed me, breed, breed your fucking desperate mommy, fuck.”

At that, take her long hair with one hand, wrap your arm around her in the other hand. Sit up—make sure that every single spurt is deep in her warm womb. Understand. Follow. Breed. Won’t wrap legs around you, she said yet her feet are now locked behind your back as your hips are feral in their pistoning motions, your cock relentlessly when it hits her deepest, most sensitive parts. Three seconds away, moaning captured by your lips, and there is no such thing as two.

You can even feel her mouth in your kiss saying, “Breed me, breed me, daddy.” Your fingers press into her back, and every bone in her body trembles with her orgasm—yours included. One last push upwards from you, one last sinking down on your length from Luda, as her pussy soaks and clamps and renders you helpless in hot lusty waves.

Zero. Hold tight. No cum spills out. This isn’t about a pretty sight of some wasteful sticky streaks; this is about putting a baby into her, seeing her petite tits become handfuls and her belly grow, unloading everything you have to get everything back. It all begins from your balls, jostling around and sending their payload through every beat of your cock. Every part of Luda amplifies your climax: the musky sweaty scent of sex, the embrace of her limbs and her lips alike, the prolonged curl of her toes that mirror the roiling passion of her walls around you; all that her body does makes you want to give her all that she wants, all that she deserves.

Only until she’s sure that you’re finished does Luda pull away from the now messy kiss with strings of saliva that break and split down your chests. Fall. Back down onto the couch, she rests her chin against your neck. “Thank you. Thank you. I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for breeding me. Thank you for all the…”

Even as Luda tapers off as much as your dick’s firmness does, you keep yourself inside of her to ensure once more that none of your cum escapes. You feel your sore cock still warmed and engulfed by the myriad sensations of her insides, but it’s all worth it. Surprisingly, she pulls her head back up and looks at you in the eyes, her tone serious.

“You better hope this cum works. That way we don’t have to bother with stupid condoms anymore. Hmph.”

Day 3, Public Sex (Sihyeon)

Sihyeon covers your mouth at first, but she finds that kissing you is a much better method of keeping you quiet. Either way, you better, lest a curious apartment dweller heads to their balcony and find you fucking her back into the light pole, a single white LED spotlight on the adventurous act. Adventurous for others, at least—It’s a usual arrangement between fuckbuddies, one often too busy for a hotel. You still would rather not alert others to your presence with the sound of her body clanging against the metal fixture.

She shifts back for a breath, much needed with your dick’s implacable rhythm. It lets you see the subtle jiggle under her nice turtleneck sweater. Hypnotizing, but then Sihyeon clears her throat. “Remember, if you wanna cum down my mouth, you’re gonna have to make me cum first.”

“You were so close on the bus. I swear to god.” Keeping your grunts low is a struggle with the impressible textures of Sihyeon’s pussy. Graze your digits around her neck. “Oh yeah, that’s it. Feel that? Still fucking wet from then.”

“I know. Tsk, if you just properly ate me out at the dinner place—”

“Then we would’ve been caught,” you say, adjusting your arms to hold her shapely hips tighter. “Grh. My fingers weren’t good enough? How many times have they made you cum, huh?”

“Whatever. I know you’re feeling it. Just gonna cum inside me like you do all the time.”

“Nn, nuh-uh.” This time, you adjust your angle of attack to make sure that you’re hitting the fleshy, most sensitive parts inside of her. That arouses enough reaction that you have to kiss her again to silence her, but looking at the way her eyes lose focus, you slip past her lips, pull down the tall collar, and suck on her neck instead. Fuck staying quiet. Your fingers push into her nape to make her as loud as possible, make her cum on your cock, while the other hand kneads her tits over her clothes.

“Oh, god! You’re gonna, I can’t believe—” She interrupts herself. “No, I won’t let you win this time.”

Sihyeon jumps, wraps her legs around your waist, and she expects you to hold on to her. However, the surprise makes you stumble, clumsy steps backward and back until your ass plops onto a bench. “Warn me first!”

“You warn me when you’re gonna make me cum!”

“How am I supposed to know?” No, you definitely know; when Sihyeon cums, it’s impossible to miss it. For example, right now, as you add your fingers to her clit, another hand underneath her crop-top on her nipple, you know by her high-pitched mewling that she’s close. There’s also the way her pussy turns from comfortable to wringing you dry. And with a final suck on her ears, she concedes, letting her body fall to its natural unnaturalness. You have to hold yourself back too, so you grab her sides and make sure she doesn’t bounce any further. Sihyeon tenses up in an errant rhythm while her facial features twist in glorious pleasure. To further keep yourself at bay, you look around and find no one else witnessing her beautiful discomposure.

After a final few small jitters, her tongue falling out of her mouth lewdly, you seize her heady state and bring her to her knees. It’s been so long since you’ve cum in the cozy place of her mouth—that’s the only place you came the first few times you fucked in public, reluctant to dirty her clothes or get her pregnant—but now you miss it, and she knows. Sihyeon knows so well that when you take her cum-feverish head and fuck yourself into it, she has no complaints. Even when fluids start to darker the blue-grey cloth of her sweater, she says nothing—okay, fair, dick in throat, yet she bobs her head down onto your length with as much enthusiasm as you. You feel your load rushing up into your cock, and holding her down until her lips kiss the base of your shaft, Sihyeon receives her drink happily.

“I knew it. You aren’t tired at all of the taste of my cum.”

An audible gulp. “Shut up.”

“But you swallowed it all, didn’t you?”

“Ptoo.” Some sticky cream varnishes your cock with the spit.

“Ahh! I’m, ah fuck, still sensitive.”

Sihyeon keeps giving your cock kisses, painting her red lips white. “So now you know how it feels.”

The chatter of a gaggle of elderly men and women comes from around a corner of trees. You and Sihyeon share a glance—isn’t their bedtime 12 hours earlier?—then hastily both fix your clothes and run towards the nearest building. You lean a hand against the brick wall, pinning her against it. “Fuck, got my heart racing.”

“You know I have my own place now, right? We could’ve been fucking in there all along. Hah.” Sihyeon gives a frisky peck on your nose.

Day 4, Humiliation (Wendy)

The damsel in distress. A priceless princess treated less than a thrift store whore. An animal to the slaughter, but death is orgasmic, no less loss of her selfhood in abundant erotic need. Wendy is naked, tied up, feet and hands in one knot behind her back, showing off her perky ass perfectly. A blindfold wraps her pretty face, earplugs on, and a small clasp on her nose. Heavy breaths with writhing.

A vibrating dildo sticks out halfway in her pussy. Sometimes she clenches to take it in, other times it pushes it out, but you make sure it stays in her regardless. She can’t escape the pleasure no matter how much she wriggles, but it’s not about her pleasure in the first place. You just need her pussy to be throbbing, to be soaked, to be a thoroughly used hole for you later.

She has no knowledge of her location ever since you blindfolded her. Wendy can be certain that you started from her house since that’s where she waited obediently for you, on her knees, ready for a lavish welcome suck before the main event. After that thorough oral cleaning—even if you’re going to get your cock dirty with her throat again anyway—you bring her to your car. Her first assumption of the destination would be your own place, but it’d be hard bringing her through the apartment. Maybe putting her in a box would have made the job easier. The nature of trust is that it doesn’t matter how or where you bring her.

All she can be sure of is that the surface is cold. It could be the bathroom or kitchen tiles; for all she knows, you could have thrown her in a storage closet. You definitely carry her with the same dignity as a mop or a broom, less than your backpack. In fact, it’s the SM practice room, late at night when everyone’s gone home.

Pull out your audio recorder and hit the button. You can’t have this on your phone. “The fucktoy is squirming about in… I guess I’ll leave the location a mystery for it.” It’s not really for her to know.

Raise the intensity of vibration, and her legs kick out—or at least try to, held by rope. Your foot weighs down into the fit flesh of her butt, and you nudge her like a table off-center; it makes Wendy quiver even more. Then, approach her mouth, ensuring you capture the desperate moans.

“Listen to that. It has not stopped moaning since I brought it here.”

Take out a male sex toy from your bag. It’s a bit different from a fleshlight, with how it unfolds into two for easy cleaning, plus it allows you to show off its texture to her fingers, fidgeting at the tight bondage of her wrist to her ankles.

“Is this toy better?” Just as she can thoroughly feel the fake cock pulsating in her slit, she can feel the rubbery yet fleshy material of the sex toy. Then, when you shove your cock into it, she can probably hear the squishy sounds of the lubricated sleeve. You untie her so that her back can be flat on a bench in the room filled with mirrors; if she could see those mirrors, she’d see how her head hangs off the edge. Wendy can definitely taste the sweetness of the lube when you fuck her face instead.

Perks of Wendy upside down: you can watch the bulge in her neck grow, stroke yourself by choking her taut skin, grab her tits and nipples as handles, then reach down to her pussy to push her humming dildo back in, make her squirm when you rub and rub until she cums—and when she cums, you keep going, such that the only thing holding back her cries of overwrought pleasure is the cock in her mouth. Rivers of thick spit flow down her face when you finally let her take a suffocated breath, remove the toy from her. You get rid of the blindfold too, and her eyes widen in her immediate familiarity with the environment. Makeup ruined, reflections remind her.

Pause to drink in the sight. Fluids reach the floor and make puddles.

Wendy smiles and lets out a heavy breath; her beady eyes motion you to continue. You start by sweeping aside those saliva-soggy bangs, which turns into a clump in your hands. Drag her to a mirrored wall. Fill her mouth. You buck your waist to the tune of “acks” and “ughs”, fingers in her dark locks.

“It’s great. It’s all so great. You’re so happy now, shining even. Strong and beautiful. And what did it take to really pull that smile from all that hardship? Tell me, queen.“

This is where she blossoms, more than a stage, more than a microphone—in the depths of depravity. How lovely the shame. She catches your stern gaze for a blink. One eye closes, the other lets a tear drip down, she tries to breathe through her nose, strains, and Wendy is exactly as gorgeous as you tell her. Back against the wall, you move your hips and that back must be in the wall by how much you press. Her nose is flattened against your abs. She really can’t breathe now, can only choke, cough spit past the clog, a precious slather. Pulling back, she ensures she still has some lip on you but speaks in mumbles what must be spoken anyway: "Your cock. Thank you, sir.”

Wendy is so very good. But that’s not the point. Cute and sweet, you’ve given her every day for months. Now is time for an outlet, both you and her. Slap. She looks distraught, your chin in your rough grasp. “You’re just good for sucking fucking dick right? That’s all you’re good for, cock-addicted bitch. It’s why I’m using your body in the same place you practice every day.”

Slap. Slap. One by hand, one by dick.

“Cute dick sucker, think you’re so special just because that hole’s warm? Wet? No, you’re not special at all, just because you’re an idol. I have to remind you of your place on your knees so that when you’re dancing, you remember the way my cock is choking you, the way your pussy shudders.”

The other cheek. For a bit of balance.

“And look at you. Gagging like you’re not a slut, like it’s not all you’re good for. You’re not special, you’re a barely convenient toy. You’re only good because I don’t have to clean you up after. Stupid whore who can swallow the rest of it up.”

She coughs. “That’s right, fuck, you’re right.”

“Did I say talk? Making my dick dirty. with useless whore words.” Shut her up.

Apologetic, she shakes her head, but your cock returns to choking her.

“You can tell me all about being a useless slut when I fuck one of your other holes. I don’t know which one yet. Your asshole’s so fucking used the way I stretch you out. But you really take that submissive and breedable shit to heart, don’t you? Don’t even try to pretend like you aren’t begging for this cock when you step in the door. You don’t even know how creamy your pussy gets for me like it’s also begging. Pathetic.” Spit on her, adding to her already saliva-coated chin.

If the building weren’t empty, they’d all know about how Wendy’s hum around your cock turns into the beautiful vocal music of struggle. She’s a talented singer, so of course, that would translate to other oral skills.

“Speaking of which, you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” She tilts her head away—as much as she can with her mouth pinned. “Be honest, bitch. You want me to ruin your cum dumpster cunt even more, huh?”

You grunt at the notes she hit when she sings on your cock. No more time for words nor melody. With no love in your fingers, you throw her to the floor, spread her legs, her unclad back on the cool surface, and take that primal instinct into your crotch, into her body, fucking her hard—no, splitting her spent pussy apart in two ramming strokes that become a flurry, a dozen, a count lost; the fire sets within. “Sir! Fuck!”

Grope her tits, push her down further, as deep as you can go, and your body finds that uphill climb limit a cliff, brought on by Wendy’s hole enjoying the uncaring treatment too much for you to handle. Wendy’s entire body, from head to toe, is looking like an ideal canvas; so after your last push, when your first waves shoot seed within her folds, you extricate and jerk your slick shaft, giving all her exposed skin the gooey frosting it deserves. Her belly button a pool like the pit in her neck, her head whipped back, the tips of her tits swirled in white. Wendy even gets a small droplet on her tongue when she extends it all the way to her chin where a bit of your cum landed. Shake off the last of your load by slapping your cock against her pussy lips, and even then, she trembles.

Not yet satisfied as you compose yourself, you smear the semen all over her torso, which gets your hand sticky.

Wendy takes that hand to her mouth immediately, licks, and sucks with complete care. “That’s it, good slut. You know exactly what to do, but… make sure to save a bit of your energy for when you service my cock later. I’ve got some annoying phone calls to make and I need a ready throat to destress.”

Day 5, Pegging (Ryujin)

There’s something about eating a nice spicy meal, one that brings tears to your eyes and makes you sweat, one that has others asking you why you eat it if it’s unpleasant. They’d ask, “Do you like the pain?” But it’s not that you have to seek out pleasure in that small moment of discomfort; rather, it is pleasure in itself, as arbitrarily innate as any other thrill.

That’s why Ryujin’s kindness—the way she hugs you like a bear when she spoons you, how she leaves her many lip marks on her necks—is not some contradiction to her thick slippery silicone dick filling your ass; every stroke brims with care and affection. Of course, it could just be her lube brimming your tight entrance. Or maybe it’s when she gave you a blowjob in the shower with a particular ministration to your balls before a spit-sloppy tongue dove into your rear hole; that’s what mixes with the lube and drips down your thighs even more.

Her MO didn’t surprise you. Ryujin built up to the pretend dick violating your passage with beady kitty eyes, even if she didn’t need to ask you. If it’s your cock, then her tongue could get a bit lower, below your balls, and oh, how your cock twitched at the pressure. A magic button on your taint. So when you fuck her missionary, her hands idle on her side, how about she presses her fingertip there? Then a finger, two, then the toys, and after much practice, the plastic length and width to rival your own.

“Fuck, sweetie. You really get so hard between my fingers. But I know just what’s making you this hard,” Ryujin says. Despite the playful tone, her deep voice doesn’t help the veins in your dick burgeoning at the seams while she lazily slips her hand up and down, fingertips glazed with a bit of pre-cum.

You have to sigh with all your breath, clench your jaw, hold her other hand, whatever it takes to hold on while the sizable toy reaches all the way to its base. “Of course. Hss, of course, daddy,” you say, your pitch whiny at the way your asshole has to accommodate the thickness. The moniker suits her so naturally; it came out of nowhere one day, well before she started dicking you down with the strap. She always had that big dick energy after all, but only recently was she able to use it literally.

As Ryujin kisses the back of your neck with her thick lips, you feel her giggle in delight while the steady pace of her waist pushing, plunging, drifts in its rhythm. “That’s right, sweetheart. You love daddy’s cock so much, don’t you?” She growls a hushed note.

Every time she bottoms out, the end of her dick poking into your tummy, you want to answer, let her know “Yes, god, yes.” But you can’t, because when her shaft slides out, the emptiness steals your words and leaves you a mewling wreck instead. And though you can’t, you don’t need to reveal anything to Ryujin; it’s all laid bare in the hardness of your cock, in your firm nipples, in your rear entrance like a glove around her.

“Such a cute daddy’s boy. I love you so much. Nhh, you don’t understand how wet this makes daddy.”

“Hmnh?” Shivery panting accompanies your pitch, rising inch by inch.

“I bet we’ll both be soaked messes after this. My sweetie’s dick leaky and cummy, all because I’m using your ass like this. Fuck, gonna get the harness all dripping with my slick if you keep moaning like that.”

“D-daddy, please. I’m really… I’m so dizzy.” There’s no other way to put it. Doesn’t matter how well-known it is, the sensation of your impending high, augmented by the fierce stimulation of her thrusting strap-on.

The way you beg and plead must be an emboldening force because she fucks you with more roughness than you’ve ever mustered in bed with her. The death of her tenderness must happen—and you shout in mind-lost pleasure, drunk on her cock. Only the tight wrap of her arms around your chest keeps your brain in this reality, yet that hold lets her shove the plastic phallus even harder. Ryujin takes your hands which are clasped together, and with little strength needed, pulls them apart so that she can hold your wrists behind your back. The speed of her cock races jets, or maybe it doesn’t, and it doesn’t matter because the shaky foundation of the house of cards which chambers your meager sanity tumbles.

“I-I’m gonna—”

The eruption starts inwards as heat and pressure and an infinite ecstasy then proceeds to exit you in sticky ropes of seed, your shaft convulsing. Ryujin’s cock falters not, keeps pounding the daylights into stars into black holes and you see nothing, your eyes tightening. “Yes! Give it to me. Make a mess!”

You whimper, whine, squeal, everything, anything your lungs can produce to match the intensity of your climax. Your ass cheeks make slapping noises against Ryujin, still at her wild pace, and the semen continues to pop. More than continuing, you’re uncertain if the shots will ever, your dick a brutish independent organ from you as you come down from your high. Finally, she slows down her hips, panting breaths on your neck which show that she needs the rest too; however, you unconsciously rock your waist, searching for the last few throbs within you. You are one with the cum on her sheets, both messy puddles. While the fluid sticks to Ryujin’s fingers, your limbs drop in lifeless torpor. With all the tightness in your body released, you can relax.

Not yet.

“Ohh, baby.” She can flip a switch so quickly, from feral to seductive teasing. Yet her actions are just as “You love the slick feeling of your cum on my fingers, don’t you? Makes them slide in and out your cute little ass so well.”

There is no give left in your body, nothing but to submit to Ryujin’s impish ways. Your rear entrance, so worked by her plastic cock, takes her digits easily. She flips you around so that you can finally face her; she looks just as disheveled as you. The strap-on is unharnessed from her body, still with a remnant glint of lube as it lays by her waist.

Her other hand slides between legs and pumps into her pussy in time with her other hand, her pleasure derived from your sensitive groans. Then the nasty, wanton woman takes her fingers working the last throes of your ass and sucks on them. She pushes deeper until she hits her gag reflex; her tongue lolls, and globs of spit choke out. Wanting yet more sin, Ryujin takes the used toy, smothers it with the dripped fluid from her lips, and tastes her work on your butt indulgently, without a care in the world.

You’re little more than an enraptured bystander to the tingle in her nerves flaring up to wholehearted spasmic joy; however, you add the last mote of bliss that she needs to tip past the edge—a hickey-strong kiss on her neck and a circling fingertip on her clit.

It’s enough to make her gag out the plastic dick. “You’re gonna make daddy cum, oh my god, oh my—”

Like you, the intensity of her orgasm must be enough to take her by storm—it’s a hurricane. Ryujin’s limbs stiffen and loosen in arrhythmic surges; the pussy on your digits torrents, making a similar inundation of the sheets to you; and she moans, deep, loud, enough to rock your core. The two of you linger in the disarray, a continuous combination of bodies attempting to return to the world through gasped air. You’re sticky, Ryujin’s sticky, it’s all so sticky, and you kiss with delirium as though the two of you could mingle into each other even more stuck.

Day 6, Face-sitting/Face-fucking (Mina)

An empty red theater all to yourselves, yet there is a more crimson vivid ardor in your eyes, even if she’s truly tinted in milky white skin and jet black hair.

The slide of your fingers from her hair is collected like her whole bearing; you have to contain yourself in such presence. “Such an amazing performance, Mina.”

“Thank you, babe. We should celebrate, don’t you think?” Her demure smile is caught in your lips, her pale cheeks flushed, while your hands explore her body, from the exposed shoulders, cleavage, and leg, to underneath her checkerboard dress. Your kiss spends no time in repose, as your passions intersect. No, there is no containment. The sweat of her brow after hours on stage, the pride in your heart for your star woman; not that she ever needed to be on stage to accomplish stellarity. This heated embrace of mouths echoes the acoustically treated auditorium, only loudens when you reverse her onto the stage. Hiking up her dress as your hands head lower, you delight in the way that there is enough flesh in her ass to squish visibly against the corner of the platform.

Kiss lower. From her lips to her jaw and ears, then her neck, collarbone, cleavage—it’s all so delicate to your touch no matter how strong her presence is on stage. Singing, dancing, acting for thousands, but you are a one-man audience to whom she melts and shivers. But there’s a limit to the bare skin you can taste and suckle on, so you tug the dress down from the deep neckline which reveals a utilitarian flesh-colored bra that wraps her tits tightly. Pull further down, and similarly ordinary lines her waist. Mina must be able to feel the intensity of your breaths on her skin, between her breasts, on her midriff, lower yet. Now you’re kneeling. Look up at her with loving eyes while you peck the inside of her thighs. “You know I’ve seen all of your shows right?”

She pats you then holds your head in a pause of realization. “Wait, all of them? I could’ve gotten tickets for you! Front row seats and all.”

Finally, you unzip the whole dress off, toss it to the side of the stage. You stretch out to reach for the clasp on her back while you take her panties between your teeth. “You didn’t need to,” you say, clumsy with fabric in your mouth. ”Lot of work for an already busy woman.”

“Tsk. You have to let me pamper you sometimes too, you know, babe?”

After pulling the underwear down to her thighs and throwing the bra to the side, you take a lewd, deep breath in. “If you wanna pamper me…”

Mina mewls at the wet swipe of your tongue, and her naked figure in euphoric tension rivals any performance, but you’d save that comment and put the verve in your mouth instead.

“Just stay still and let me make you cum.”

When you grab her sides, she shifts a bit with a giggle, ticklish, but you hold her down; her giggly smile wanes to tightening lips around her pointer finger. You mirror her with your own mouth, puckering up at the top of her slit. Increase, decrease your suction, then repeat steadily. Warmth adds to the wetness upon your chin—it’s half your saliva, to be fair, as you relish the ambrosiac musk.

Your hand sidles down her waist, frisky fingers juxtaposing resolute grip of your lips, then it reaches between her legs. A sonorous hum in satisfaction, in your craving fulfilled, in the whiplash of her head once a digit slips inside her entrance. Staying firm with your hands and mouth at such a glorious junction is a fragile task; it breaks with Mina’s fingers clasping desperately at your hair. You didn’t notice how unwound she became, faint at the few gasps of air you managed between alternating sucks and licks, distracted at the singular goal. Unwound isn’t enough—she spins out of control, her legs clamped down on your head. Already suffocating, you struggle to even extract your finger from her now creamy, clingy pussy, but when free, replace the slick insertion with your tongue.

Mina tugs bundles of your hair and shouts in reverberations: “Cum—cum, I’m—cum, fuck. Cumming!” Her legs judder and press their flesh into the sides of your head. Though you’d like to admit you’re a supernatural being who needs no air, you tap her thighs instinctually, and she looks down distraught as she reluctantly loosens her vice grip. “Sh-shit… are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Mina.” Wipe a bit of dribble off your chin, but you still savor the fluids on your panting tongue, licking your lips. As you stand up, one finger draws a trail of her wetness down her thighs. You reassure her with a stroke on her cheek, give her a sloppy kiss, and let her taste the salty addiction of her own nectar. At first, she’s confused when you climb up to the stage and lie down next to her, your legs dangling. But then you point to your mouth. “Pamper me, Mina. Ride my face, use me to cum.”

Though slow to recover from her interrupted climax, Mina eventually gets up from her seat on the stage, finds a new seat in your face. The only free part of your face is your eyes whose vision flies past her bare chest, shiny with her own drool, to share a romantic gaze. It’s a gaze with finality; Mina has to give in now to her need, care no more about your personhood. She weighs down, then rocks back and forth, grinding her mound against your whole face. Your nose is soaked, your lips and cheeks, and even the lashes on your eyes too. But as the sparks light up, she focuses more on her clit, rubbing it wherever she can find friction. This time, you will endure. No care for your respiration. Air is pointless. You would rather find your way to a deserted island than give up the taste of Mina’s pussy; you would rather find a way to live while drowning. And by the one-track focus of her motions, she is inches from cumming.

“No, no, wait, I want… fuah—want to really treat you too. Both of us. Same time.”

After Mina turns around, you get her ass’s ample shape in your face, delicious pillows of trimmed fat. She budges that ass down, lines her pussy up to your mouth. “God, I love your ass.” Not much of a comment considering how often you mention it, but it escapes your mouth every time you see it in full. Escape escapes. Your tongue has no choice but to nudge down her cunt with your nose in her asshole, and you’d love nothing more than to lick up, loosen the tight ring, but again you have no choice but to fulfill your mission. There’s no fight nor want to fight left in you. Mina grinds to and fro, and you’re merely a flesh and blood conduit for her pleasure. She doesn’t forget her promise, however: she leans down to unzip your pants and get your half-hard cock in her mouth which quickly lengthens to its maximum in the confines of her throat.

While you’re making physical sacrifices for her pleasure, Mina doesn’t even have to try. All it takes is vibrations in her throat brought about by the pressure of your tongue and the suction of your lips on her pussy. From the maximum, you feel a new barrier of firmness, of need, threatening to burst through like a dam in disarray—Mina. You are one and the same, slaves to the pleasure in the number sixty-nine in the middle of this empty theatre—and captives are set free. Her tongue slips out, while yours pushes in the deepest it can go. You shake your head, shut your eyes, and brace yourself. Mina gushes forth first, but the two of you take turns. Pulse, pulse, and it’s you, and it’s her again. It’s as though the sticky fluid that shoots inside the warm, inviting passage of her throat fuels her. An inebriation in cum. Your hips lock and thrust up with every shot, and she budges down with a vicarious force which only settles as you both unwrap from each other, though Mina keeps her whole body resting on top of yours, lips resting on your softening shaft.

You take comfort in massaging Mina’s ass while she looks back at you. “I, um… Ahk.” She swallows the load, shows off her tongue. “Fuck, you always taste so good.”

You want to say something but there’s no reply needed, and there are no words left anyway; they’re stuck with Mina’s juices on your tongue. Stage lights shine down on you—this is the only performance you need to feel like a star too.

Day 7, Lingerie (Seungyeon)

And that’s the other half of your month’s work; you close the KakaoPay app with a heavy sigh while your leg is restless, knee bouncing up and down your bed. There is not a speck of regret though. You could have walked away. You could have, then Seungyeon strode in. The sway of her thighs, a satisfying wobble. You wouldn’t let a stranger get past the doorsill without removing their shoes, though you let her into the threshold of your bedroom with black heels on. (High heels, no? No, yes.) The curves from her waist to her tits, clad in a tight black outfit that shows off her cleavage and midriff despite the suit-like long sleeves. Most notable of her attire is a matching black choker, lacy and accentuating the valley of her tits below. Shoulder-length black hair, long lashes, and a little more lipstick, all as you requested. She sets her phone down next to yours on the nightstand; you can do nothing but watch her legs, her ass, the way the fabric digs into the flesh, sets an edge, tells you just how much flesh there is to hold.

Dim the lights in your room, dark enough for the intensely erotic mood and to match all her black clothing, bright enough to see all her exposed skin.

“Thank you. Now, what would you like me to call you for the night, sir?”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

“I’m all yours then, sir. Now, where do you want me to start?”

No point in keeping any secrets from the woman you just paid for. You feel a need to tell her the truth to experience the full extent of her service. “Seungyeon.” It’s still strange for you to admit, the words having trouble escaping your lips. “I was… um. A really big fan of CLC. A Cheshire. And well, I’ve always wanted to watch you dance in person.”

Seungyeon’s smirk grows to a genuine beaming grin. “Really?” She runs up, then leans down to hug you on the bed; you almost fall over, but a hand behind your back on the mattress stops you. She looks at you in the eyes, gives you a peck on your cheek. “Did you know you’re the first customer to say that? I’ve honestly been waiting for someone to say that.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm. Now, as for your request. I can certainly do that.” She heads to her phone, then after grabbing it, to the speakers around the TV in your bedroom. (Hate to see her go, love to watch her leave.) “What do you want me to dance?”

“Hold on. I’ve always had this fantasy.”

“Oh,” Seungyeon says with a seductive lilt as she turns to look at you. Her eyes were always made of fuck-me material, how she narrows them. “Do tell me.”

“It’s simple. All those cover dances you did, Beyonce and Ariana, you always showed off your body so well.”

A small amused chuckle from Seungyeon. “That’s right. It even turned me on, knowing how hard I got guys just because of my tits or ass. Ah. I think I see where this is going.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, that’s just as easy of a request. Maybe even more so, now that I don’t need these.” Seungyeon shimmies out of her shorts, bends down slowly, pulls the tight black bottoms past her knees. That’s when you can see the underwear you requested, a thin black line that travels under her mound to a set of straps, attached by minute metal rings. It traces the round shape of her ass, lifted by high heels, and makes your mouth water. Fully practiced in her enticement, Seungyeon manages to turn around on her heels still bent over, giving a deep view between her tits, while the front of her panties has ornate decoration on top of the sheer fabric; she’s trimmed neatly underneath.

Seungyeon tugs the shorts off—how does she stay balanced—and flings them playfully to you. When you stop smelling it, you notice that smirk return to her face, while she unbuttons her long sleeve top. Again, a slow deliberate process, meant to have you foaming. The thin, skimpy straps and black mesh frills that compose the bra appear after a long tease. Provocative swings of her tits, with pauses at the perfect angle; she knows her body well, and you can tell how long she’s practiced flaunting it, a past life filled with mirrors. “Can we get some CLC dances first?”

“I was hoping you’d ask. You’re still fine with the heels, right?”

“You’ll even do that?”

“Of course.”

“Then go for it.”

Seungyeon starts in reverse, dropping her ass immediately with the opening move of Helicopter. It’s a surreal sight, and though imagination was easy considering how revealing her outfits were, it pales in comparison to the sheer amount of skin on display. More importantly, the ample flesh that shakes with the sharp movements of her dancing—she’s never lost a step.

“Must still practice a lot.”

“For sure. You’d be surprised how many clients ask me to dance.” Must be a lot, you’re surprised that she has enough breath; it looks much more exhausting up close especially with her heels on. Sweat grows on her lightly tanned skin as Seungyeon navigates her choreography in your bedroom which is decently big enough, but not the same as the stages she once performed on. It’s no practice room either. Regardless, she proudly bounces, her tits and ass barely held onto by the lingerie, and she even manages to throw in some winks between her intense eye-fucking gaze. The biggest mesmerization is at her iconic Black Dress dance break. Fancams you’ve watched a million times, just for her thighs, and now you earn the whole experience of her body in perfect motion, her black dress now stripped down to black lingerie. Buttcheeks rival the jiggle of her breasts, hair flailing to and fro, yet more than that, you feel the passion that Seungyeon has in her moves. It comes out of you in unabashed staring and stroking your growing erection over your pants.

“Fuck, you look so hot.”

At the end of her dance medley, Seungyeon takes a few panting breaths and gets closer to you, hands on her sides while trying to regain some composure. “Thank you. You liked your personal fan-meeting?”

“Hell yes.”

Seungyeon kneels down and pulls your pants off posthaste. The bulge in your underwear wrestles against the fabric. “I don’t think I need instructions for this, do I?”

“Nope—aagh,” you groan out at her immediate lips forming a tight circle around the tip the second your underwear is thrown to the side, while her tongue flicks at the already leaky slit. Her eye-fucking changes context—watch me dance to watch me suck the seed straight from the source. Seungyeon manages to get up from her knees, onto her heels once again, all with a mouthful of cock. She has to keep her hands on your lap to stay balanced.

Your own hands, too idle, reach forward, one for her hair, one for her tits. “Mmh, that’s good. What’s it like being an escort?”

Lifting her face off your crotch, she lets your cock flop back onto your stomach and rubs her chin. “I make way more money than I did as an idol, that’s for damn sure. Plus I’m getting paid to suck a cock like this. It’s so meaty, and that vein right there, delicious.” Seungyeon spits on it, wets her lips, and transfers that wet to your shaft. Each lowering of her head gets deeper and deeper until you start to hit the back of her throat; she keeps going yet. She even takes her hands off your thighs, puts them behind her back, and her only point of contact to stay on her heels is her gagging throat.

Your moans become needier, and your head light. “H-hold on there,” you say, your grip on her hair tighter.

Humming, a little stream of saliva on your cock, a bubble on the corner of her mouth, she frees you from impending climax, taking your erection in her hands. “Hmm?”

You slide back onto the bed so that you can be prone and comfy. Your dick stands at attention and grasps the attention of Seungyeon who bites her lip. “Tell me what to do, sir, please. Unless you want me to stare at your beautiful cock all night. I don’t mind sitting in your chair and finger-fucking myself to the sight.”

“That sounds like a damn good time… no, Seungyeon, I want you to fucking ride me.”

She slides her skimpy panties down. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Ah, wait.”

Seungyeon tilts her head, thin fabric at her knees. Either she’s amazing at playing the part or she just gets horny easily, a gleam from between her legs. Her folds look so inviting, but you have another request for her to fulfill.

“Put them back on. I’ve always wanted to slip some lingerie to the side while fucking.”

“Of course, sir,” Seungyeon says, containing her wetness with flimsy fabric. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you’re harder for my underwear than me.”

“Pfft, you have the sexiest body I can dream of. The clothes are just icing on the cake.”

“But at least, no heels on the bed?”

Nod your head, and she sheds the shoes before crawling to you, starting on the floor. Your boner’s never dwindled, only indurating when Seungyeon leisurely moves up to the bed. She gives your cock one kiss, then turns around when her ass is on your crotch. Like plump peaches, you feel the weight on your crotch and the heat of her sex against yours, even over her panties. She arches her back, black straps, and you tug on the sole strip that stands between you and her pussy. Snap, she jolts a bit; the string sinks into her meat.

Then, you sink into Seungyeon’s soft pussy lips. “Oh, pphh—sir, I thought. Fuck, I knew it was big when I looked at it, gagged on it, but this is…” Her admission needs no further detail; her moans say enough. Her back arches even more as the next half of your length splits her open.

Fair to say it’s money well spent by now.

Despite the careful start, her ride accelerates fast. Cock slams into her womb, ass slams into your waist, and slick noises slam around the room at the speed of sound—feels like that’s Seungyeon’s pace right now. Her moans turn into profanities and deities. Your hands grab onto her trim waist, slide a bit at the sweat, and end up at the inevitable destination of her ass—helpful, you have to hook the panties back to the side; they bury themselves back into the valley of her cheeks, though you allow the slight tension against your shaft for a bit because you’re too distracted by other, dick-pressing matters.

“Fuck, Seungyeon, never knew you were, hah, this cock-hungry.”

Loud exhalations every time she bottoms out. “With a dick like this…”

She stretches her arms into the bed, giving her more height and force in every spring up, her pneumatic butt cushions for the landing. Initially, every time her back arches and relaxes with every piston push, she leans forward and tightens her thighs, which tightens the grasp on your cock. With how far forward she is, Seungyeon has to squat to shove her pussy down properly. But with time, her breathing falters, and she has to lean back for a more comfortable position. At this angle, she yields control of the ride to you.

Her back on your pecs, you feel the bra straps and the perspiration and smell the hormonal passion of it all—plus you can thrust your hips up and fuck your cock into Seungyeon as much as you want.

Wet noises, slapping noises, you resume the drilling at a speed that parallels how she started. Your lips suck on her neck, and your arms wrap around her chest, pushing into the dark sheer bra that yet adorns her tits. “What happened, hmm? Can’t handle this dick anymore? I thought you had plenty of clients,” you say since, for the first time, Seungyeon sounds less like an experienced whore with purposefully tantalizing groans, more whimpers and mewls from her lips.

“Fucking me. So, so hard.”

Slow down. Kiss her ear and lick it. You lower your voice. “I want to see your face when you cum on my cock.”

Ragged breaths. “Wh-whatever you say. Sir.” Legs shaky, Seungyeon struggles to even push her feet against the mattress to lift herself off your length. When she eventually does, you can see the gloss her pussy caused as she turns around slowly. The short brunette hair is disheveled; strands stick to her face, tipsy with lust, eyes narrowed and out of focus. The very girl that performed years’ worth of choreo moments ago barely has enough energy to line your dick’s tip up to her slit. This time, when her pussy sinks onto you, the only way she accommodates your width is with gravity and time and the hard-earned drench.

The act has taken as much out of you; you’re only better at raising your waist enough to make her bounce, and the two of you find a rhythm in the elasticity of the mattress.

This new cowgirl position helps fan the flames within your body—soon enough, you have hands on each other. Seungyeon caresses your muscles, works her fingertips and even nails into you, while you pull her down by her shoulders. As much as you want to leave her soft breasts to the natural hypnotic oscillations they manage under the lacy, strappy bra, you need to know what they feel like in your hands. So during a makeout session—started with a kiss, but you had to collect all the moans from her drooling lips, taste the tongue that pokes out—you massage her squishy globes through the lingerie fabric. Squeeze; it’s only fair with how much her pussy squeezes your cock. Without surprise, her tits are amazing, jaw-flooring—this touch is not enough. Your fingers sneak underneath the bra, and you feel their utter fullness in your hands. Supple and tender though nipples firm up between your rolling fingertips. Your cock finds steel hardness. “Ahh, sir, your hands are so rough with my tits.”

“This is what you really wanted, right?”

“Hwng!” Seungyeon lurches forward when you slap her breasts.

“You always hoped a fan would fuck you into a haze.”

“Yes! Fuck, yes!”

“And you always hoped he had a big cock to ram into you.”

“Mmm,” Seungyeon moans, muffled as she throws her lips against yours. She plucks herself off when one beat in your rhythm hits something particularly sensitive within her walls. “Mhm! That’s why I keep in shape. I always wanted to dance like a stripper.”

You grunt, another primal, sloppy shove up her sloppier pussy. “And now you’re dancing on this dick. And I can feel you. You’re gonna cum on it too, huh? All it takes is some money and a thick cock to turn into a bumbling slut.”

Whining and trembling and clenching around your cock with judders and flares of her body’s pleasure, Seungyeon can’t disagree. You use your sliver reserves of stamina to pound into her keen cunt. A final smooch, then push her so that her posture is straight—at least as straight as her tender, near-climax figure can be—while you caress and work underneath her bra, absorbed in pinching the tips of her breasts. “That’s, that’s it, I’m almost there, god, fuck, your cock, I’m gonna cum on your—aahh, c-cuumming!”

Fucking Seungyeon through her orgasm is an arduous endeavor, mainly in the feat of restraining your own. Her hands claw into your chest in a mirroring action, and as she shouts, she throws her head back. All of her muscles compress in a flow of blaze throughout her body, though your whole attention is on her walls, a dire cinch and a dire flood on your shaft. Ending imminent.

The power shifts once more. You can see the focus in her brows—she pays no need to her own sensitivity, the soreness from cumming so explosively; instead, the raw, feral energy emboldens her to weigh down. She works through heavy breaths and says, “Your turn. Sir, where do you want to cum? Ahh, I can feel you throbbing in me.”

“I… I want to cum in your panties.”

“Really? Hssph, my clothes till the very end.” Seungyeon chuckles faintly, though there’s nothing faint about her ass shoving down onto your crotch. Her mounds bob up and down with newfound excitement, and her pussy clings to the promise of your load. But she has her orders, and you have your Earth crumbling beneath you in tremors and landslides and tsunamis and to explode right now, the blinding and shattering consequences of plate tectonics in your head; it leaves you with nothing but a silhouette and a pair of showy underwear like after the camera flash imprints your eyes. It’s absurd, abrupt, an ablaut of moaned vowels from your tongue. One spurt, one prolonged groan, that clingy pussy lets go as she promptly unsheathes you. You’re trapped between a pillow and a soft place: her thighs, her slippery folds, her sopping panties, every texture draws long strings of gloppy seed from your cock. Stain the lingerie. No matter what, it’s a part of you and her forever now. When your shaft leaves its flesh and fabric fetters, all wet, the strip slides back to its resting place, though twists as it smears your load on an asscheek.

Seungyeon lets out one last sigh, shifts and fixes her ruined panties, and flops onto the bed next to you.

Get on your side to face her and stroke her tangled hair. “While I get my rest, just keep the panties on and soak in my cum. I want you to remember how it feels when I fuck you in the ass next.”

“Yes sir. In fact, after we’re all done, I could leave my underwear with you as a souvenir. Free of charge because you’re such a good fan.” Seungyeon gives you a peck on your jaw, but it quickly turns ravenous towards your lips, tasting her enough to memorize the flavor before your faces pull away.

“I have a feeling I might be paying again. You know, for the next time I call you.”

“Sounds like a plan, sir. Now that was fun but…” Seungyeon gets lube from her purse to give to you. Your balls writhe, and somehow, your spent cock does too. It could be how every step is like a dance, a playful treat for your eyes, yet you know just underneath that underwear is the sticky reminder of your seed; it could be her look. Oh, right. Hate to see her go. Love to—

After she sits in your lap, her back against your chest, Seungyeon scoots up so that her buttcheeks rub against the sides of your shaft. Her right hand spreads one cheek, the other grabs her cum-logged panties to reveal the dark crimped ring of her asshole, and you help out by drizzling yourself with lube.

“Let’s really get what you paid for.”

Day 8, Praise Kink (Hyunjin)

It’s a whole ordeal having sex with Hyunjin. First off, it starts with dinner; it has to be a nice one. To be fair, the last time you forgot, you heard tummies rumbling while your own energy flagged. So this time, you remembered to take her out, stopped by her favorite bakery. The sweet time with your busy girlfriend was always worth it. Besides, not a man on this planet can complain about making out with her, massaging her body with oils, and most importantly, giving her the praise that gets her off the most. When you don’t get her in the right mood, she clams and tenses up which makes the session you planned quite lifeless—but it’s understandable, because more than that, your cock would not fit. Regardless of the lube you drench, the vibrators you use, the wrong atmosphere, and she curls up into a ball.

Like a kitten. “And kitten, your pussy tastes so good, you know that?”

“Hngh.” Hyunjin brings both of her hands up to her mouth, all clenched as she lays in the bed, tidy and scented like vanilla. Even your stripped-off clothes are organized—not folded; neither of you is that stringent. Your hand pats her head. “R-really?”

Only candles light the room, and their scent adds a delightful butterscotch tinge to the vanilla in the air. But her musk overpowers it. A slick lick up. A rougher set of lips down. Her whiny high-pitched squeal means that you’re doing a good job, but you have to let her know too. “Of course.”

Your long nurturing kisses on her pussy are joined by your careful fingers that ghost a swerved path down from between her petite tits, around her belly with tickles, onto the sensitive nub at the top of her folds. While Hyunjin giggles adorably at her ticklish midriff, she completely loses her composure at the pad of your deft fingertip drawing circles on her clit. Tongue pokes its way into her walls, and at her flavor, you can’t hold back. With your free hand, grip her side and pull her body the closest it can get to your face.

Thighs become warm, fluffy earmuffs around your head, and you lick and lap as though life depends on her every valuable fluid. Hyunjin yelps, brings a hand to her mouth, and her wired muscles let go of the hesitant edge. Waves rise and fall, and through it all, your mouth endures her messily wet orgasm. That’s when Hyunjin loosens up, and her whole demeanor goes from embarrassed and stressed, to needy and hungry for your cum in her pussy. How do you know she’s the hungry one? Because the moment you leave the heaven between her thighs, her legs fold around your waist without wasted moments, and she pushes her mound up against your ready erection. “I-I, I need it, and I… I deserve it. Because I’m, I’m a good kitten, and you really want to fuck me… right?”

You have to keep your smile gentle, not too smug that you have her so cock-drunk at the simple friction of her folds against your veins. “I do. Because you’re such a sexy kitten.”

Rub your shaft against her yearning slit as you lean over in your typical missionary position. No, you don’t need wild flexibility tests, a fuck over the bathroom to make her cum all over your cock. Just the right words, the right touch. Your fingers on her jaw are soft; lower down to her neck, and they lay on it lightly, yet you still feel her swallow some spit.

“Look at you, my cute kitten. So pretty, so fuckable.” A soft embarrassed moan, a shift beneath your weight, rosy cheeks. “You look so beautiful under me, you know that? Even the tip makes your tight kitty squeeze like that… I can’t wait to reward you for how good you are right now.”

She nods once, looks at you. Keep staring. Hyunjin nods more furiously, pushes her ample hips closer.

Slow down when she squeals a bit loudly, her arms tucked. Though you had a nice rhythm going, you certainly don’t mind your cock idling nice and warm inside of her. It’s one of your secret techniques, oft-employed. Maybe she wouldn’t be fully in the mood for sex, but keeping your dick cozy inside of her isn’t that big of a deal, right? “Are you okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, but you hear the unevenness in her tone.

“Don’t worry.” Keeping your cock fully sheathed, you roll Hyunjin onto her side and embrace her tightly. Her silken walls squirm. Give her a strong bear hug, hands patting her back, and lots of feathery kisses. Though it’s just you kissing at first, one at the corner of her lips, one on her ear, she starts to return some smooches to your face until it’s a back and forth relay.

Then, you feel a slow stirring of her hips, of flesh sliding up then down in small motions around your shaft. Though again her breath is shivery, her voice is more resolute. “L-let’s keep going.”

Your lips inches away from hers, you let the warm atmosphere take over, let Hyunjin work herself onto your cock again. You can see the distension on her abs, your tip which pokes as a small bump that you rub; it disappears more and more often as she arches her ass back: a third of your length free, back in; a half, shining in candlelight; then, finally, a languid journey for her pussy lips to seal around your tip. “There you go. I knew my pretty kitten could do it.”

“Of… of course—but whyy?” Hyunjin whines when your cock leaves, stretching her arms out and waving them like a little brat, but you need to so that you could place her onto her back again. Adjust the pillows under her neck, adjust your position above her once again, elbows into the mattress, and adjust your cockhead to insert smoothly. Her high, whiny voice hitches, then becomes a deeper, continual moan as you repeat your insertions. “Hmnnh.”

Even as you keep your fluid thrusting consistent, you can feel the way Hyunjin transforms with enough stimulation. First and foremost, naturally, the slick that builds on your shaft. But more than that, though you know that she prefers love-making over fucking, it doesn’t surprise when the bed starts to creak, her waist finding some motivation in the fullness of your cock.

Of course, Hyunjin is no prude—given the lewd noises she allows herself to utter—but it still surprises you when the profanity slips. “Fuck! God, yes!”

Not wanting her to catch and restrain herself, you hold up her chin and take her lips into yours, her tongue wet and swirling into your mouth. Hyunjin is so into it that you’re the one who has to pull away for some oxygen, slow down to rest the core you’ve worked up holding yourself above her, trying not to burden her with your weight.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Though your shaft glides in and out, Hyunjin’s body tenses again. The red on her cheeks spreads. “I am!”

“You’re my good girl. And what’s my good girl going to say when I spill my cum into your gorgeous little pussy?”

“Thank you,” she says, small and meek.

“That’s right. Now give me a kiss.”

You dodge her kiss, a teasing smile on your face, and she frowns. “Hey!”

Boop her nose. “You don’t even know how cute you can be, do you?”

The frown slowly fades, and Hyunjin attempts to shift herself against you, to find that sex-fueled heat in her core.

“Hmm.”

“Please, please move!”

“Since you asked so politely.” You resume your coordinated thrusts into Hyunjin, whispering more praise into her ears. “You’re my good girl, my beautiful kitten. I love you so much, and you being such an obedient baby warrants a reward.”

She can feel the smile against that ear, the warm breath.

“I’m gonna fill my good girl up, and I’ll make sure you feel all that cum hit your womb, okay?”

“Yesss,” Hyunjin hisses out.

“And are you… ooph, clenching around my cock? When I already made you cum with my mouth?”

“I-I didn’t, I’m sorry—”

“Mwah. What do you have to be sorry for, huh?” Your inward thrusts have more strength than usual, making flesh-smacking noises every time her pussy lips kiss the base of your shaft. “In fact, I want you to cum with me. If you really want to be good, cum all over my dick while it pumps all that seed into you. Understand?”

No reply, just soft grunts—“Nh, nh, nh”—and her wrist on her lips which you pull away. You know she was biting on it because when you make out with her now, she presses her teeth down on your lips, trying not to be too harsh, failing with the tautness spreading her body. “C-cum, cumming,” she says in your mouth, between groans.

Your kisses move down her face, on her chin, then to her sensitive neck. “P-perfect timing, kitten.” Suck on her neck, but nothing can rival the grippy friction of her pussy. She gasps and shudders at the saturation of bliss and heady hormones and thick dick shoving its way down. You do too, the mutual pleasure an infinity sign, a presage of your climax.

Thrust and thrust, and any last nervous noises spiral into chaos into pure surrender to the pulsations of your bodies intertwined. She cums, you cum, everything comes to a crest. Her orgasm is loud, only quieted when you return to taste the drool from her lips, and it’s messy, your semen pumping in aggressive delirium. Guaranteed given how much shoots out of your tip, some cum spills past the clutch of her lips, soaks around your cock in a cream, but the rest you push back inside while she throbs and mewls her way through the diffuse high. “Thank you, thank you! Your cum makes me feel so full, nnuh.”

“Take all of it, take it all, like a good—” You grunt “—Fucking—” Grunt again “—Kitten.”

The sounds elongate in your final push, an unwinding like gravity that was always bound to roll your brain down the hill. You struggle not to flop your mass onto Hyunjin, sensitive though loose and calm in her lust.

This time, when you fall onto your side, she mirrors you on her own terms. Breath makes your chests heave; you’re more focused on hers as you start with lips faintly grazing hers. Soon, a barrage of kisses, and after she deems the number enough, Hyunjin tugs on you.

“Cuddle?”

“Look at both of us, we’re all sweaty, there’s cum on the sheets.” You point, and Hyunjin crosses her legs. “Don’t worry, I knew this would happen, those are old blankets. But I’ll be back.”

You rush to the bathroom to retrieve towels then return to Hyunjin fully relaxed, casually playing between her legs, pulling apart gooey cum on her fingers. “I just realized, it’s been so long since I’ve tasted this.”

Your eyes widen when she takes a lick of her fingers, but you notice the slight discomfort and chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. I’m plenty happy as we are.”

You’re about to throw Hyunjin a towel, some tissues from the bedside, but then you realize you should just clean her up yourself. Lean down, wipe the messy remnants of your session from her thighs, and when she’s all clean, some greedy smooches on her perfect legs.

“Are you okay?”

“I still feel your load in my tummy, so… yeah.”

“Good. Very, very good girl.” Blow out the candles and give her the cuddle she longs for. Even though her head bears down on your arm wrapped beneath her neck, there exists no place with greater satisfaction, with greater peace. So as many times as Hyunjin gives gratitude, you return in whispers while she falls asleep. “Thank you… Thank you…”

Then your own doze takes you.

Day 9, Edging/Orgasm Control (Mijoo)

You have to be competitive to be an idol; there’s no such thing as debuting without it. In Mijoo’s case, she’s been working her hardest to stay in the spotlight, taking every variety show role that she can.

Mijoo is just as competitive in the bedroom, and it all started with an off-handed comment: “Aren’t you jerking off too much?” you asked because you were finding her soaked panties in your bed, in the dorm bathroom. If the other members in your group found them, you would’ve been screwed. While a dating scandal would be good publicity for Mijoo and you at this point, they’d never let you go as far as you are with her. Sneaking her in, fucking her in the shower, the practice rooms, the parking lot. It got to the point you’d find her in your own company building more often than Woollim, and though she notified you by text beforehand, she never mentioned how her pants were down her ankles, fingers in her pussy and her mouth then back to her pussy.

It was always about who could make each other cum the most. (For the record, she was easier, fell under your grasp without effort—a gentle bite of her nipples here, a pounding into the mattress there (fine, that takes more effort, but still, the actual time and energy investment is surprisingly cheap) though even the weakest vibrators can do the trick.) Now, however, it’s about who can go on for the longest without a climax. It’s easy—for two hours, then Mijoo comes up to you at the Inkigayo stage and gives you TV inappropriate touches. Good thing you’re both in the back.

You get your revenge at a serendipitous meeting at a Chinese restaurant: she’s eating with a couple of friends in a private room, and the two of you go to the bathroom at the same time. Without hesitation, even cursory conversation, you find yourselves in a bathroom stall making out, hands get frisky, and you’re the one who gets her pants off first to eat her out. But alas, the challenge, so you only get preliminary licks and wetness.

“This is gonna ruin my dinner.”

She narrows her eyes. “Oppa, please.”

“No sauce can compare to your flavor,” you say, standing up and wiping your lips. Mijoo scoffs and crosses her arms, and you exit the bathroom first.

The shots across the bow continue like this for a couple of weeks straight. A back alley mutual handjob/fingering, spank sessions after “choreo practice”, naughty flexibility tests, a passenger seat ride with no destination (and you make your blue balls fair by giving extra care to her clit while she bounces with enough force for people outside to understand what’s testing the suspension despite the tinted windows.) It’s an absolute onslaught, and you can see the struggle and sexual frustration painted on Mijoo’s face.

“You’re not—” She sighs a long puff of air through pursed lips.

Your finger down her pants is missing the softness of her pussy, now all tense, but you can appreciate the continuous slick. “Not what? I bet if I do this a few more minutes, I could even see the spot on your sweatpants, I know those panties are already soaked.”

“You’re not getting to me. And I see that bulge, you’re not even fucking hiding it.”

For your part, it takes considerable effort not to jerk off the whole time as well, especially when Mijoo’s texts are filled with increasingly risqué pictures.

The biggest hindrance to your orgasms though is not any kind of self-made barrier; rather, it is mere circumstance. The two weeks expand to turn what’s supposed to be Kinktober into an early No Nut November brought about by new activities. You find yourself as a side character in a small web drama production that’s slowly starting to build a cult following while Mijoo has new modeling appearances left and right—finally.

There was supposed to be a build-up, an entire event to get Mijoo cooing and begging, but time finally finds itself unplanned late at night in a hotel. Fog outside the window makes the streetlamps swirl. The coolest part about the room is the RGB lighting; otherwise, it’s a normal room. While you undress yourself down to your boxers and lay down on the bed, she plays around with the remote before she settles in on dark pink.

Matches the color on her face.

Mijoo works through the warmth that diffuses throughout her chin and tries to tease you: she goes up to the room-height window, bends down to slowly get rid of her sweatpants, but it reveals the truth. Not a single word, not even an innuendo nor hint of sexual act, yet her panties stain dark at her crotch, swollen lips visible in the pink light. When she notices it herself, she quickly pulls her pants back up—too late.

Your underwear’s cloth strains at her frantic pacing.

“So what are we doing now?” Mijoo asks. Her eyes can’t help but fall down to your bulge, especially at the intensity of your own eye contact.

“I was thinking we could just chill. You know, the two of us here, we could pull up Netflix on the nice TV.”

One step. A second, more hesitant, but the third is a leap.

There is no first kiss shared between the two of you; immediately, it is a swirl of lips and a tangle of tongues; immediately, the hotel walls and the hotel floor and the nicely laid out sheets are covered in sweat as you fumble your way around the room in such an intense makeout session that the sheer passion drives you close to the edge—and you can hear parallel desperation in Mijoo’s moans.

When did she get naked?

When did she get on her stomach and spread her buttcheeks apart?

When did you start ramming her into the bed with enough strength to leave your mark on the pliant mattress, enough speed to throw the sheets off, enough pleasure to already feel a threat of your cum looming?

And you slap her ass; the hue of your hand’s evidence on her skin is closer to red, and erstwhile questions disperse into the fog.

Already, you feel this fuck is different. She’s so sensitive that something new unfolds within her: a never-before-seen level of stimulation from penetration alone. Mijoo has to bite into the pillow, scream her frustrations into the cushion, whatever she has to do not to cum.

“Oppa, I’m gonna fucking—”

Stop. You bring the force of the mass of your body into your hips and hit something deep inside of Mijoo, too deep for her to move on her and fuck herself back into her cock.

“Please! Just, just, fuck, fucking move, I need to cum!” she whines.

Lean down—careful, too much movement will lead to too much friction for your twitching dick to handle. “Don’t you want to win?” you whisper.

“Mmrgh,” Mijoo growls. “I don’t care anymore.” Though her face is in the pillows, you can hear the gritted teeth.

Gradually, with a speed that displays the grip of her cunt lips, you pull out, flip her onto her back. When you kiss her on the neck, she writhes.

“No, no, not like this.”

Down to her adorable tits, you hum with nipples between your lips. “Is this all it takes? You’re so on the edge, even a kiss will do it?”

“Hnn, you’re just wasting time, that’s, fff, why you haven’t put your cock back in, huh? Gonna cum in two more strokes.”

“I don’t know about that.” Your hand holds your dick’s tip against her folds and slides up and down, especially around the nub at the top. “I bet this is all I need to do to make you cum. Have your legs flailing at one touch.”

You shove your meat crudely back in, and maybe Mijoo was right. And there’s no hiding anything because your body admits as much in the first spurts she feels coating her walls, and a smirk develops. Mijoo pulls back, and a droplet leaks from your slit.

For one, she’s a water faucet, a hydrant—can’t talk. As well, she finds great victory in your initial loss, but your body has yet to bow to its wanted rest; you and she know it, though that your pre-cum’s volume rivals your usual load signals a far messier end.

Somehow, both of you keep up the charade for too long in the night. Moonlight, whatever light, they all grey out in your eyes until your sight is like the rest of your senses. Ringing in your eyes, touch limited to a single body part, the lingering smell and taste of sex almost permanent in your nose and lips. You are a machine yet, a cold, human-distant piston of cock inside Mijoo. She is the longing of a loved one gone for years; she is the vines up the side of a house; she is so utterly human in her forlorn whimpers.

This has to end somewhere, and you know no matter how hard you try, Mijoo will try harder. Pull out. Stroke yourself. Initially frustrated, she realizes what’s at hand—or rather, in hand: your dick, veins popping out and all. You can see how badly she wants, needs, near-dies for your orgasm, not for your cum (at least completely) but for permission to release herself from the exasperating cusp. Mijoo helps you out, fondling your absolutely squirming ballsack. Then, the moment one absurd trajectory of your semen aims straight to her open mouth, she brings her fingers down to her pussy and rubs. The awareness from her to play the game till the very end doesn’t surprise you; what does is the way her body moves, clenches, and expands in exaggerated thrashing to match her profane yelling. Something else new—the clear liquid spray that clashes in the air with your seed. With the strength of your orgasm and the iron claw grip of your hands on your cock, your posture sags, your head pounds inward, and you cover her whole body in a patina. Fluids everywhere as Mijoo stirs through her decelerating thumps.

“I win. I win,” Mijoo says, streaks of white from her shoulders down to the origin: Your cock twitching wildly matter how faint the remaining pulsations are

“Hah. Ha.” Not much more you can say with the light-headed breaths. You fall next to her.

“That was a fun month, but let’s not do that again.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you want to go back to our old ways, then?”

“Well…” Mijoo gets up, sits down on your thigh, and grinds her throbbing cunt on you, muscles randomly bracing at its tenderness.

“We’re gonna go from edging to overstimulation that fast? At least give it a day or two or twenty, I don’t feel like cumming again for a while. Phew.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Mijoo closes her eyes, cum dripping down her entire chest to make Pollock proud. Your dick finds life once again.

Day 10, Toys (Bibi)

cowritten with existslikePristin

“Oh, come on. It’s so cool, and I can afford it. All you gotta do is carry it.”

You stare at Bibi through half-lidded eyes, challenging her with your silence and the fact that your outstretched arms are already lined with bags of miscellaneous sex toys.

“But your hands are free!”

“Do you want to try? Do you want to try carrying a mechanized dildo throne and fifty pounds of anal beads?”

“Please. They’re called Ass Orbs™.”

“The brand name doesn’t change what they are!”

“Ma’am, we do have dollys available.” The employee who dares to interrupt has a very good point.

You and Bibi freeze for a moment, then she remembers her line: “This is for a music video!”

Junho, according to the pen-scrawled badge, scratches his head. “Great! Uhh.”

Look back at Bibi, who immediately relaxes at the clear lack of recognition, then back at Junho. “Ah, no worries. We’ll take the dolly,” you say, raising a hand.

No amount of simple machines can coax Bibi to help with the loading, far too enamored with the other toys in the shop; for example, with a smile that you can see through the mask from her eyes, she pulls out a pastel rainbow, meter-long dildo lodged halfway into a “stone” that’s just a big paper mache butt. In her hands at the non-business end, The Excaliburlesque has a handle modeled like a kitschy 80’s movie sword hilt. The way the lengthy phallus flops down certainly feels more like a prop than an actual sex toy. The Dante’s Dive is much more convincing, the incredibly complicated vibrator holding her attention for a few seconds as well. And of course, she couldn’t take her hands off the demo version of the gigantic Eternal Torment device.

That’s the one you and the store employee are busy struggling to strap to the hydraulic dolly. It’s a partially backless chair, but the seat is one of those rocking horse torture devices with piston attachment points for dildos. Presumably only to make it heavier, and therefore make your life more difficult, it’s surrounded by solid metal bars as if it’s meant to be disguised as gym equipment.

There’s no way it’s going to fit in your apartment. Bibi will need to get rid of her couch.

As if she will.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“That guy was just a boomer, everyone our age listens to you. I, for one, would recognize you with a mask on.”

“What’s the flattery for? And big whoop, roomie.”

“Just saying. Oh, we’re here. You think we could convince a neighbor for an extra hand?”

“I know I can. Maybe I already have. With some… other issues.”

“Oh please, you’re in this house all day.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You will admit, the Eternal Torment is a fascinating addition to your living room. Now that you’ve had about a week to get used to its presence, if you lie to yourself just enough, you hardly miss your bargain lounge chair.

At least it’s hot. And you’re reminded of that as you step out of your room to see Bibi stretched upward, knuckles on the top bars as white as the loose dress shirt she wears. A dildo flies out of the center of the metallic vaguely-horse-ish contraption and into her pussy at breakneck speed. Her juices rocket back out of her, so at least she had the minimum courtesy to put a sheet of plastic under the device (not that it helps the spray hitting the wall, but you didn’t expect to get your deposit on the apartment back anyway).

You watch from across the kitchen counter, pouring yourself a cup of blue Cold-Assist. Bibi grimaces as she cums again, or so you assume. With all of the chaotic motion and vibration, it all blends together. Your best hint is when she shouts, “EIGHT!”

She’s been challenging herself for the past few months: cum as many times as possible within an hour. As far as you can recall, her record up to this point has been seven. Set down your beveragated sugar and give her a sarcastic round of applause.

“Wow, eight. What’s your time?”

Bibi lifts herself off the dildo and hits the off switch. She shakes her head. Several drops of sweat flick out of her ponytail to land in your cup. As usual, you can only be stoically disappointed.

“Fuck yeah! Fifty-nine minutes! Pretty close to the wire, but I made it!”

“And all it cost you was six months’ worth of rent. Woohoo.”

Bibi flashes a nervous smile. “Oh, it wasn’t that much.”

“Five. Six. What’s it matter?” you ask. Sniff the Cold-Assist. No sweaty smell. It’s probably fine to keep drinking. “Ah, speaking of which, I’m going to the main office to pick up a package. Rent’s not late until tomorrow, but I better take it down now. Seo-meon says they’ll probably be closed tomorrow.”

There’s a long silence. You sip your Cold-Assist, thinking Bibi might just be spacing out like she occasionally does, but she’s not stopping. She stares back at you. You stare at her. She stares at you. Stare at her.

Obviously, you have to be the one to break the silence. “Bibi. You have enough for rent, right?”

Rather than answer verbally, she turns her head slowly toward the Eternal Torment.

“Are you got-damn kidding me, Bibi?”

“Whaaat? No, it’s no big D, roomie!” Bibi flails her arms in front of her, settles them on her chest, and unbuttons the dress shirt halfway down, revealing her sweat-sheened tits. “I mean… About that rent.”

Set down your cup so you can palm your face with both hands. One isn’t enough. “Bibi, we’ve been over this! I don’t want to fuck y—Rent is late tomorrow!”

“But isn’t this body worth my portion? It’s no strings attached! Not a single fuckin’ string! You can fuck me literally any time you want!” She awkwardly worms her arms out of the shirt. It may be loose, but it catches on her hips as it falls since it’s not fully unbuttoned. “When I’m in the shower, in the middle of the night, even when I’m eating. Just rip the fork out of my mouth and put your dick in it! All you gotta do is pay my part!”

“That’s an attached string! That’s not no strings attached!”

“What if you cover eighty percent?” Bibi squeezes her tits together.

“No!”

“Sixty?”

“NO!” You start to walk around the counter to get to your room so you can slam the door in her face.

“Twenty… nine? Final offer!” She runs to intercept your path.

“Fuck! Bibi!”

Though she starts by standing in front of you, she crouches, bows, anything to make herself look smaller under your glare. She pokes her cheeks and puckers her lips while using her elbows to keep her boobs squished together, then tugs the shirt off her waist to give a glimpse of her ass. You’ve always kept her rowdy public image separate from her personality at home, but you know that image isn’t pulled out of thin air. Despite the fire that fuels the smoke, however, you wonder how Bibi can blow all of her rent money on sex toys and offer her body to make up for it with so little shame. “Pweease? I’ll pay you back… someday!”

You growl and grab her ponytail. This better be worthwhile. “Never again, Bibi…”

A fluttering noise comes out from deep in her throat somewhere. A mewl, a moan, a weak attempt to say something, you can’t quite tell. At least there’s some remorse still left in her. Whatever it is, you don’t want to admit to liking it.

“Since you want to play games with all these toys,” you say, tugging harder, “you better make it worth your money.”

Bibi’s exhalation is ragged; your temper never gets this flared up. “I, um, I have an idea,” she says.

Your grunt has a curious tone to it.

“I know you think I’m just secretly forever alone—”

“And you are.”

“B-but I have plenty of practice with throating the toys! Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.” Tap a finger on her temple. “Go.”

She steels herself. All these years living together, she has never seen your dick, since you’ve never given in to temptation so easily. Why this exception now? Motivation. She was always playing around with you, sometimes more like a toy than a roommate—now she’s the one munching over your pants.

“Did your toys teach you to do that?” This time, the darkness in your voice surprises you as much as it does her.

“No” comes out muffled. She lets go. “Pleh. I thought this would be sexy.”

“You look like a lost pet.”

A stagger in her voice. “It worked, didn’t it. I felt you get hard between my lips. And look.” Bibi grabs onto the hem of all layers of your bottoms, and your cock’s door spring imitation would fit with a cartoon bo-oi-oi-oing.

The dick-print on her face is a different kind of slapstick comedy.

“So, so, so where—so do I start over here—do you want me to—gwk.”

“How’s the tip taste? If you don’t pay rent on time, you might need to get used to tips.”

Yours makes her plump lips fully round to accommodate the thickness.

“I guess I’ll push in now.” And you find quickly that the big game she barks comes with little bite—fortunately, that’s as true literally as it is metaphorically, but Bibi struggles to keep her mouth wide enough to swallow you. And every couple of inches, you feel a barrier stop your cockhead from getting deeper; she works through the tears and choking and dizzying heat regardless.

“You’re getting off to this, aren’t you?”

“Mmnuhgrph.”

“You can just nod.”

“Nn, nnh.”

She makes a point: the length in her throat pins her head up to a corner pole of Eternal Torment. “But whatever. If you wanna moan harder on my dick then so be it.” Stroke her hair. “If it means those toys were actually worth it.”

So she starts looking through the bag of toys next to the metal frame while you start your facefucking pace. Doesn’t matter how much momentum your waist gains—naked Bibi does her naked thing, rifling through floppy, phallic miscellany. Despite the satisfying tautness of her throat, you’re a bit put off by her distraction, though it shouldn’t surprise you considering she has the attention span of a false idiom. And the toys will probably add a bit more fun if her orgasm is half as loud as the pornstar absurdity that escapes out of her bedroom once in a while. Bibi finds a relatively plain flesh-colored silicone dick which prompts a deep cock-thrumming groan upon insertion. Yet still, she searches for more.

Some of your thrusts inwards are a lingering affair, meant to distract her yourself, but despite the dick cutting off her body’s natural air circulation, she still has the brain capacity to sort through the bag, to clarify dildonics—Oh, wait.

“Hey, hey.” You slap her face when her eyelids fall. “Breathe!”

Right, you’re the one locking your hips. Bibi spews out a whole gush of spit on your shaft, veins like rivers. Expecting complaints, raise your hands defensively; however, all she does is rub her sore jaw before she returns on finding the exact toy she needs.

You make your dick do that up and down bobbing thing in boredom. “Might as well have done this at the store.”

Join her in rummaging through the pile of pleasure devices. Perfect. Handcuffs. She thought of everything.

When you hold her hands up to the topmost bar of the faux gym machine, she takes the hint and grabson. She doesn’t see you taking the pink, fuzzy handcuffs out of the bag until it’s too late. Clamp both of her wrists together with the bar between them.

“Oh… Oh! A little BDSM? I like that. Don’t forget, the key’s in the same bag.”

It’s unclear to you why she’s talking about a key, given that you’re not sure you’ll be using it at any point. But there are some ropes in the bag too, and she did just say she liked BDSM.

“Fuck, roomie! This machine is some crazy shit. I can already feel another—M-my legs too?”

You’ve got Bibi’s ankles in knots at the bottom back bar, making her a diagonal with the rectangular frame. And with a quick tug around one of the rear bars, the ropes secure her thighs around the horse with, quite literally, no wiggle room. Stepping back, it’s easy to see all of the new possibilities, now that she’s held perfectly still. On the other hand, it makes the facefucking part quite difficult, given that she’s only slightly bent over from standing height.

“Dammit. I’m not untying you from that.”

Pull up a chair from the dining room. Is she the crazy one here?

Stand on it. Yeah. She is.

Lines up just right to her face. Your head is screwed. Tight, screwed tight.

Tie the bag to the top bar so you can continue looking for toys to add. (It’s not hypocrisy when you have to pay the rent.)

“You’re really…”

“Yep, I’m fucking your face no matter what it takes.”

“Please don’t fall.”

“Better keep my dick safe in your mouth then.”

Her warm passage shifts to receive you once again, cheeks hollow with air, and eyes water up. After the first insertion, you begin to use her throat in earnest. Although her reactions would appear as distress to the unaware, Bibi slurps and foams and enjoys herself too much for this to count as payment.

When you try to grab a vibrator, you get a tangle of strings, pills attached to each end. “Fuck it.” Tie makeshift knots around the Eternal Torment frame, more around her thighs, and now her legs are the branches of a Christmas tree. Instead of festive lights, a variable buzz.

Flick a few smaller toys out of the bag. You can’t think of why you’d put on a cock ring besides to squeeze down and make this whole affair last longer. Not this time anyway.

But among the bag’s remaining bounty, you find another toy you think you’ll enjoy. This time, for her butt.

Each bead on the string ranges from approximately two centimeters thick to some size you can’t wrap your head around. Or more accurately, your fingers. They get pretty big. No matter though. Bibi bought the world-famous Ass Orbs™ for a reason. Time to get some use out of them.

Leaning over far enough to push the beads up her ass without extricating your cock from her throat is a true gymnast’s challenge. But you’d have been a gold medal Olympian if you hadn’t taken the wrong road in life. Each bead coaxes a squeak out of Bibi slightly bigger than the last, matching the pattern of the beads perfectly. Even though her blowjob resume doesn’t qualify for an entry-level position, you can’t deny the rich harmony of her voice in D major.

Take your time with the last bead, pushing it in and pulling it back out several times before settling it fully inside her. Wiggle it back and forth to ensure she doesn’t forget it’s there. Not that she’ll need the help.

“How’s it feel, Bibi?”

You don’t shove your shaft down as hard and instead let her suck you off by her own prerogative. Her answer comes in a newfound enthusiasm. Maybe a bit much, Bibi’s drool might become an operational work hazard as it pools by your feet on the chair. Can’t complain about how her lips twist, how her tongue stretches, how her head struggles to push forward and take more of your shaft.

“Damn, maybe you are a natural at this. All it took was to fill your ass with sixty thousand won’s worth of beads for you to give some proper head.” Caress her cheek with an uncharacteristic amount of sweetness.

To rectify that, a switch. Boop. The machine starts back up, and the dildo responsible for an initial eight orgasms pokes repeatedly at Bibi’s ass. She lets your dick flip out of her lips. “Hey!”

“Oh shit.” Flip the switch off, get down, re-align her, get back up; it’s a whole song and dance. Shlick. Shlick. Louder than the whirring. Okay, so it works.

There’s one more classic erogenous zone that you haven’t attached a toy to or inserted something into. Her damn nipples. She never shuts up about how pretty her nipples are (though frankly, they’re just normal), so it feels like including them is some kind of obligation.

Like the dildo machine, your hips don’t miss a beat as you dig through the bag. Coiled up at the bottom is the last piece of this sex puzzle: a chain with some gnarly-looking clips at both ends. It looks like the sort of thing that one could purchase at a heavy-duty office supply store, not a sex shop. It’s exactly what you need.

Bibi screeches into your dick each time you let one of the clamps snap shut. No doubt she’ll be feeling those days from now. Hopefully, it will motivate her to pay her rent, since being unable to walk from the pumping dildo won’t teach her much. Even better, you find that the chain makes for a much more entertaining handle to pull on than her ponytail. Her throat clenches every time, accompanied by a muffled whine. The additional humming brings you closer to your grand finale.

Her finale, on the other hand, is playing on repeat. Juices pour out of both sets of her lips and over the Eternal Torment. The machine is proving itself as a marvel of modern waterproof engineering. It would be quite astonishing if you weren’t so concerned with the pressure building in your core.

Actually, its engineering concerns you when you realize you have to hold on to the top bar to ensure that you don’t crack your skull with an orgasm-caused loss of balance. The other hand gives one last jerk on the nipple chain; the yank smashes Bibi’s nose into your pelvis, and your release begins. You don’t intend for your jizz to hide away at the back of her throat though. Instead, you shove her head back and plaster one side of her face.

For her part, Bibi is nonplussed. You could be frosting her with powdered sugar and milk, and she wouldn’t care. If you didn’t need her to keep her job as a singer to eventually pay her share of the rent, you’d snap a few pictures to put online. Hopefully, getting half her face semen-splattered by a man standing on a chair is enough of a lesson.

Quite satisfied, but certainly without the intent of releasing Bibi from her sexual torment (oh, so that’s why it’s called the Eternal Torment), you wipe your cock on the cheek that isn’t fully creamed. Her mind is too far gone to mind. Sit down on the chair to regain your breath.

All of a sudden, her phone, forgotten up until now on the floor, buzzes loudly. It catches your attention with a bright flash and large text. It’s from that popular amateur porn subscription website, ExclusivelyStans. It says congratulations for something, but the screen goes dark before you can finish reading. It seems Bibi is still absorbed in her orgasmic bliss and ignores it, so you take the liberty of picking it up and swiping it open. She should really put a password on this thing. You keep telling h—

Slap the Eternal Torment’s off switch. “Three million subscribers?!”

Bibi, snapped out of her extended climax, stares at you.

“Like fuckin hell you can’t pay rent!”

Her lips tremble, but she still manages a half-smile. “Um. My… subscription cost is really low?”

The phone buzzes in your hand again. Another email. This time it’s her monthly earnings. Forget rent, she could buy several houses, cash. You turn the screen toward her and glare.

“W-wow! That’s a lot! I… wonder who that message is for?”

Set the phone down and flip the Eternal Torment back on. Bibi groans as it slowly begins to pick up speed. But you’re not done. You step to the side and grab the ring at the end of the string of beads in her ass. “Let’s see, what’s that record? Eight?”

Bibi must sense your intentions. She gives you a nervous look over her shoulder. “Hey. We can work this out. I can… I’ll cover the rent! I got you! HEY! WH—“

Yank the beads.

She purrs like a lawnmower.

Day 11, Phone Sex (Rose)

“What color is your underwear?”

“Starting off with the classics I see.”

“Well, you need no introduction otherwise, Rosie.”

”So you recognize me then?”

“Of course. I have the image of your perfect legs seared into my head. And speaking of…”

”Ah, right. Pastel blue, and I think these panties would show off a decent amount of my ass if I just twirl my dress.”

“Did you just smack yourself?”

“Mhmm. But that blue is getting darker now. Fuck, your deep voice sounds so sexy.”

“You like my voice? I’m not sure I can even describe how much yours makes me hard.”

“Oh, but do tell.”

“Well, first of all. I’ve seen everything. The shows, the interviews, the fancams. How does that make you feel?”

“Honestly, it makes me tingly. Warm.”

“Perfect. Just like how the rasp of your voice, plus that Aussie accent, makes me stroke my cock to you every day.”

“Then, you wouldn’t mind if I strip naked?”

“Only if you don’t tell me about it. In fact, tell me about everything, what you’re doing here.”

“Well, I’m in a fancy hotel room, forgive me if I don’t tell you right now exactly which one. Jisoo was just here, and we were bored and installed the app.”

“So she’s the one that took the picture of you with your legs crossed.”

“That’s right, and here I am, still on this couch.”

“You know, most girls I saw went for pictures of their whole body, in lingerie, with a toy inside them. This is a pretty adult app, so I was surprised to see you still have a dress on.”

“Don’t worry, I’m slinking out of that right now. Plus, you’re one to talk. A shirtless picture? I bet every other college student that goes to the gym has that same kind of picture on Insta. You’re lucky those abs looked delicious. But I’m more curious about what’s underneath those pants.”

“Oh yeah, I’m wearing those same ones right now. In my bed, just got home from a workout. And I’m rubbing my dick over my pants, it’s so fucking hard. If you want to picture it yourself. So, take your forearm—”

“No! You’re kidding me. Tss, no fucking way. Y-you would’ve used the pic in your profile!”

“It’s more fun letting a girl find out this way. I like hearing that exact reaction, the way your voice just hitched and got smaller.”

“Ah-I, uh.”

“It did. I bet you’re sinking into your seat right now. If you still don’t believe me, I can send you pictures. And well, I’m bad at estimating things, but I bet you’d have trouble wrapping your little hand around the whole thing.”

“Pphh. No, no, it can’t be.”

“It’s true. Rosie, are… are you hyperventilating?”

“Fuck, that’s, I can’t.”

“I should’ve known you were a size queen. Imagine my big cock filling you up. I’d take my hands around your tiny waist, and you’d be able to see the way it pushes into you from your fucking tummy.”

“Oh, god. I was already getting wet. But now, just listen.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you could get loud enough to pick up on a damn phone mic. I can hear how fast and desperate your fingers are.”

“That’s right, oh, ssh. That’s right, daddy—oh fuck.”

“Hah. I see now. Not only a size queen, but a slutty daddy’s girl, huh? I guess it makes sense, a baby girl like you wants to be split apart with a big dick like mine.”

“Nnh, you’re so filthy. Makes me want to cum so bad. Please, tell me what you’d do to Rosie.”

“Did you just—so it’s even like that. Well, Rosie, only if you’ll moan and scream for me the same way you would for real.”

“God, of course!”

“Slow down there, whore. I wouldn’t just give you such a nice dicking down so quickly. Just because I have a big dick doesn’t mean I can ignore everything else. I’d start by making out with you, calling you good girl, and digging my hands into your long blonde hair. But don’t worry, I won’t tease you for too long, maybe tweak your nipples and sample the taste of your pussy for just a bit. How tight is that pussy?”

“Well, daddy, to be honest, Rosie hasn’t had dick in such a long time. And never one like yours.”

“Aww, that’s no problem. I just have to finger you, focus on your clit, suck your juices diligently.”

“Thank you, that’s so good daddy. I’m pretending my fingers are yours.”

“Mhm. But I’m not sure your fingers could even start to pretend to match my length. You’ll tug down my pants, I’ll take a whiff of your ruined panties on the floor, remember those? They’re dark blue now. Fuck baby girl, you’re gonna get me addicted to this scent.”

“You know, I-I could coat all of your cock with that scent.”

“Ooh, now you’re getting it. I don’t even have to do any work then. Your legs hang off the edge of the couch, and all I have to do is line my shaft up to your pussy lips.”

“I forgot to tell daddy, Rosie’s slit is this tiny little innie. So…”

“That’s fine, I know you’ll try your best to grind your pink mound against me like a cute virgin, like you’re not a club whore.”

”Daddy, listen!”

“I guess I can hear your slick fingers louder than your whining.”

“That’s because they’re really grippy and I know just how to fuck myself. And, and you can only see the lips when it’s gripping onto something really tight, but, but if your cock is as big as you say it is…”

“Then when I push the tip in, the thick, leaky, twitching tip, what would you sound like?”

“Ohh! Hrrgh.”

“Such a cute little moan and grunt.”

“I know, I know, Rosie’s a good baby girl, right?”

“That’s right. And we can pretend that your hips and ass and thighs belong to a good girl, that you’re not sinking into my cock like some needy—wait a minute.”

“Noo, daddy, I swear.”

“You swear what?”

“Fuck.”

“That’s right. The tip just hit your womb right? Or maybe it grazed along your g-spot, that’s why you shivered like that.”

“Wait, wait, daddy, before you start, I just. Uh, I just, um, need to prepare myself. God, you really are that thick, aren’t you? I swear, I can feel your veins and your pulses and your, oh god, you’re shoving it so deep! Ahhh! Fuck!”

“Take it. Grr, take it, I don’t care, I need to feel this whole pussy, every goddamn muscle, and… look at me, Rosie, look at daddy.”

“What do you—”

“Look down. See that? Just what you said, your grippy lips, escaping that tight innie. Oh, god, I’m stroking myself silly talking about this. It’s making my head dizzy, making my cockhead drip with white.”

“I promise, I won’t waste any of your cum too.”

“Where do you think my cum should go?”

“Well, of course it should coat my insides all sticky. But, I’d love to play with it in my hands, rub it on my legs and my face and my tits, or maybe I’d swallow it. Even take some of it in my asshole.”

“Did you have to whisper the last part?”

“I’ve never done that before either.”

“Good to know.”

“Daddy!”

“Don’t you fret, Rosie. Just let me fuck you nice and smoothly, let your eyes fall, let your body give up to the pleasure. Oh, it’s leaking down your thighs now. That’s a fucking mess of pussy juices. You’re gonna make a pool on your feet, on the floor.”

“How did you know?”

“Wet sounds, duh. Why are you such a sloppy slut?”

“Because daddy’s cock is so good at thrusting into me. Nyahah, god.”

“I’m even making you mewl now, huh? You want me to call all sorts of names, I bet. Kitten, pet. You can call me master, owner. God, I wish I could hear your pussy clench too. Anyway, I know you’re getting tired of fucking on the couch.”

“But, daddy, Rosie wouldn’t mind if you fuck her tight hole forever, until it’s red and sore and needy grasping at air for days.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be nice to explore your fancy room?”

“I like that idea. I have a jacuzzi with a really nice view.”

“That’d be fun. Let the hot water splash all over us, and make your muscles relax… so that I can ram your pussy as hard as possible without regret.”

“There’s even a sauna. I’d love to sit on daddy’s lap and get all nice and sweaty.”

”And you can feel my dick poke into your back. Count the number of spine discs it hits. Then I hold your sides, all ticklish, and pick you up to bounce your petite, sweaty, musky body onto my dick. You’d just slide down with gravity and sink that slit around me. But we haven’t even gotten to the bedroom yet.”

“Yeah daddy, it’s so fancy. Such a tall ceiling, windows all over, and the biggest bed.”

“All that room, and the way I’d fuck you would have you curl up into a tiny ball of ecstatic pain. Like, there’s no position where I wouldn’t be fucking you into two halves. We could do missionary, and you’d feel the full weight of my shaft. Doggystyle, and it’d hit you right in the deepest parts. Pick you up, bend you over, throw you around, it does not matter. You’re an easy whore, my easy whore, so no amount of my cock less than all of it would satisfy you and make you whole.”

“Oh god, I’m playing with myself so much just hearing you talk.”

“Good. Very good. For now though, I have a simpler idea. Go to the window.”

“O-okay, daddy. I’m an obedient girl. I’m here now. It’s a really big window, I can see the city from here.”

“Perfect. Tell everyone in Seoul, ‘Rosie is daddy’s whore!’ and fuck yourself with your fingers like I’d fuck you with my cock, rough and strong.”

“I’m, I don’t know.”

“I know you have such a distinct voice too. People outside would ask what the fuck that was, while a few would recognize your voice. But maybe, if you shout loud enough, it might reach where I am in the city, and I would hear an echo, first from the phone, then from outside.”

“Rosie… Rosie is daddy’s whore! I’m cumming, daddy! I’m cum—eugghh, fuck!”

“Just in time. A few more strokes, I feel it. Right there, right there, I’m inside your pussy, I’m bending you over the railing, I’m pounding you like there’s no tomorrow, like there’s no tomorrow, like there’s no… mrnphh.”

“C-cum, cumming too?”

“Mhm, mhm, all over, oh fuck, all over. And it’s not all over my hands and tummy, it’s inside you as a perfect creampie… Oh god, oh fuck, I need a breath.”

“Me too. Ffooey.”

“I’m just gonna slip out of you really slowly, it’s so sensitive. Oh, guess I didn’t push it deep enough, that’s probably more cream down your thighs than in your pussy.”

“Daddy, we’re gonna get this couch dirty.”

“Maybe when I cum on your face next time, that”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, you have my number now, don’t you, Rosie?”

“I’m going to be honest with you .You just made me cum so hard. Phew. I don’t think a phone call is enough. Oh, you sound excited.”

“You’d like to sample the real thing, then?”

“Yes, please, daddy. We’re having a world tour, so if you can wait for me to come to your city…”

“Oh, I’m in Seoul.”

“Perfect. In that case… Maybe I will tell you what hotel I’m in.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Royal Suite of the Lotte Hotel. I’ll get things arranged so that all you have to do is walk in and open the door.”

“You’ll be naked like you are right now?”

“Mhm. I’ll probably just be playing with my pussy on the floor. You can just pick my head up and fuck my face, pound my ass into the floor, whatever you want, daddy. I’ll be waiting. But hurry, I don’t wanna cum too many times without your cock in me.”

Day 12, Knife Play (Chuu)

“I know you don’t like it, oppa,” Chuu says with a pop and cutesy raised tone, “when I leave you alone this long. So how do you think I feel when I come back, only to find you with other girls?”

Your voice is panicky when you say, “I don’t understand.” You last saw Chuu a couple of days ago when you and your friends went out bowling, and you never knew her that well, off in your own corner of the world, writing, so none of her words add up. Now that corner has been invaded. Theoretically, you could overpower her if you had anything else in the room with you. But as she stands with the knife in her hand in the way of the bathroom door, the hot shower fog is slow to disappear, and you’re frozen in fear. You’re vexed at how your cock twitches at the contrast between her tiny figure, her adorable cheeks, and the big blade she brandishes.

She raises the dangerous implement. “Remember? I was your first.” Her breath is uneven. “At least, I was supposed to be. And then you fucked some slut, a dumb cheating catgirl. And you fucking talk about her all the time, get over yourself.”

“Chuu, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“My name is Jiwoo. That’s what you called me, at least.” She gets too close with the weapon you’re not sure she can properly wield.

“Jiwoo, I’m sorry.”

You’re more vexed than ever when she stoops, even bows at your feet, giving your legs smooches the whole way up. This is where you should have run, where you should have kicked her, should have done anything to escape. Yet her lips are the opposite of her edge, soft and inviting and exactly where you want to put your cock—why does that thought enter your head? It enters your head because your head enters her head, your shaft dragging between her soft palate and tongue. Chuu doesn’t even move, just holding the knife to your side. Your hips’ speed to push your dick deeper is slow to make sure that no friction turns the side of your stomach into an open wound.

Breathe the longest exhalation of your life. “Is this what you want Ch—Jiwoo.”

The knife makes a faint snake down to your legs, circles from the outside in. It cuts more hair than skin but the idea alone of all that pierced flesh scars you.

She pushes you onto the edge of the tub, and you stumble into your seat. Chuu swallows your cock in earnest now that she has you completely threat-bound, fully frozen in fear that the knife flanked by both thighs may shank either of those thighs with a slip.

“I just, gugh… I’m mad, gugh. I’m mad that I can’t be mad because I’m stuck in this same spot.” She must certainly be mad in a way. Chuu digs her nails into your sides, which prompts a tickled laugh, and that laugh makes your dick slip out. Fire in her eyes.

“W-wait—”

A careful incision on the inside of your thigh isn’t careful enough not to be a double negative, lacerating you. Your pained wail rings in the tight bathroom. Through the animal cry, Chuu manages to keep vacuuming your shaft with a wanton fervor, with a beautiful gagged tear and choke. “Ptoo. Better not do that again.”

Would you protest here at her hypocrisy? Get another nick for your trouble? You zip your mouth tight.

“This could go higher, you know?”

The knife’s tip makes a point.

The point is a threat to burst your sack open.

The threat is enough to burst your heart out of its feeble container.

Your heart wastes energy on pumping the blood that drips down.

Jiwoo’s spit heals not your scar, but she gives plenty enough to soothe the sting. “Where were you, oppa? You had me trapped. And, and I was so scared because I felt so incomplete.”

“Jiwoo, I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. You’re lucky your dick’s as yummy as ever.”

“Wait a second. Those lips.”

“Are you starting to recognize me?”

“You were always sucking on something, and it’s coming back to me.”

“See? I told you.”

The lie born of simple observation placates Jiwoo, her knife further away than her nose to your stomach. Of course, with lips like those, she had to have some kind of oral fixation—it’s not just the lips though; it’s her skilled suction, the way her plump pillows pucker and nurture and slide up and down centimeters. “B-but oppa, I need you to finish the job.”

“Oh, oh god, what do you mean?”

“I thought you remembered!”

“I did!”

“Then what was it? What was our plan?”

“Ahh, I, uhh. Oww, fuck!” The extreme pleasure of Jiwoo’s throat on your cock sends a ludicrous mixed signal with the obvious pain of a knife a whisker deep into your waist. You scream. Her throat distends as she works her way down.

“Wait, so you did remember! I wanted to take your whole cock down my throat.”

“Yeah, I did, fuck, why did you have to stab me?”

“I’m, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what got over me. It’s just that this day is so weird and makes my head spin—no, no, no, you’re not cumming in my mouth. That’s for good oppas who remember to finish things. Get in the bathtub.”

She turns on the faucet, and you step in, unable to activate fight or flight. Drops of blood fall in, then when you lie down, the clear water murks red in swirls from your thigh and your waist where she had cut you open. “Ahh! Fuck!”

For the next ten minutes, sanguine-diluted water overflows the tub. How much blood does the human body hold? How much blood does the human body lose when exerted by the force of a tiny, adorable girl, bouncing on cock like a seesaw—"Which is right? I see, or saw you?”

And she’s right to omit the future tense, even as the future you tenses.

The previous prescriptions of perforations are restrained in comparison to Chuu when she’s horny at the replete stimulation of your dick bobbing in and out of her. Unfortunately, while she lets herself go, dancing in the night of your head passing by—oh, consciousness is a visitor—she lets not her knife escape her clutch. In that dance—oh, consciousness is a fleeting kids’ game; we pass it onto the next generation, not for us to consume too long—she draws funny portraits on your chest. With silly little sketches, your load exits inside Chuu’s pussy like a burden, like 21 grams, like the ice sheets—and she’s the ocean.

Wish that Chuu knew how to color other than in red; wish she knew how to color in the lines; wish you knew how to finish the third thing. Wish you…

“Your skin is as weak as the fourth wall.”

Your skin is as weak as the fourth wall.

Your skin is as weak—

Finish your story.

Day 13, Double Penetration (Yoohyeon)

Yoohyeon’s pussy is quivering and dripping and drenched with semen; that’s not why you’re here, but it is the reason for the gooey puddle between your legs. There’s too much of a mess for you to care about the fact that some of the sticky white gets on your shaft, your balls.

“Having a good time there, Yubin?” you ask.

With her dick aching and cum leaking out the tip, Yubin stands in front of you while Yoohyeon is seated in your lap. Yubin can’t hide the joy in her voice. Sure, she was third in line after Minji and Siyeon, but she likes the sloppy seconds that build a perverse veneer on her cock. “Of course,” she says with her voice even deeper than usual, recovering from her orgasm.

“So who’s turn is it next?”

“Umm.” Yubin’s dick jerks up, half-hard again. “I don’t think any of the unnies want another go.”

Look at Minji and Siyeon on either side of you. They both sleep beautifully, their dicks flaccid. Meanwhile, Yubin already has hands back on her shaft to let it grow. “Well, I’m certainly not stopping you. The more cum, the merrier.”

As the manager and the person responsible for bringing the empty-headed, seed-filled Yoohyeon home after these sessions, you were always last in line. To make up for the inconvenience, you get the most coveted position, exclusively, every time. Though right now, your dick needs its rest—it’s quite the workout having your shaft anally strangled. Semi-firm, it presses against Yoohyeon’s back. Her head is leaning back on your shoulder, her eyes closed.

While true gangbangs with the whole group are saved for special occasions—Handong was absolutely stretched, legs gelatin when she returned; no doubt a music show win would be a whole week of debauchery—they still often take turns using the needy Yoohyeon as they see fit. And since Yoohyeon herself has ceded all control of her asshole and pussy to you and the phallically-endowed members whenever the urge arises, if it so happens that a group of you visit her house serendipitously, then the train was always inevitable.

Yoohyeon’s couch is a hub of musk, sweat, cum—squirt when you fucked her through a climax an hour ago. “I’m guessing no one’s down to cook dinner then,” you say.

Yubin aligns her tip to Yoohyeon slit, rubbing up and down to add a viscous layer. You note her dick isn’t really that thick or lengthy, but she makes up for it in a surprising tenacity. “Well, I really wasn’t planning on having dinner here.”

Friendly small talk like this is commonplace: with the abundant service of Yoohyeon’s holes, it’s quite routine by now.

“Are you gonna fuck her ass again? It’s like you’ve just been her chair while everyone was fucking her.”

“And I find absolutely nothing wrong with that.” You chuckle. “Anyway, I was gonna order a pizza or something while you took care of things.”

“Really? Did you even cum in her butt yet?”

“Nah, I was gonna do that later.”

Yoohyeon opens her eyes, and they look beady glancing up at you. “Really?” she asks. Those eyes roll back into her head when Yubin dives into her ruined cumhole cock-first and sucks on Yoohyeon’s fingers.

“I think you should use her anally now,” Yubin says, her stare seductive as she licks up Yoohyeon’s digits and thrusts gingerly into her pussy. Turns out those have some semen on them too; she must have been fingering herself while waiting.

“Oh. You just wanna feel my cock push up against yours, don’t you?”

Yubin’s face flushes, and she sucks on fingers even harder as she looks away.

“I get it.”

“It’s because we’re always taking turns, and I don’t, I don’t get why we have to wait like that when she has all those holes.”

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, and your words reach both Yoohyeon’s and Yubin’s ears. “I love the way your cock feels too, makes her ass even tighter.”

Lift Yoohyeon on your lap; her pussy lips leave their cum coating on Yubin’s shaft as they grip up the meat. “But my dick isn’t as big as yours, and—”

You pull Yubin’s head in and kiss, interrupting her. “Don’t feel bad, baby girl. Listen to the way this slut moans.” Drop Yoohyeon back onto your lap, and she sinks loudly, back down onto Dami. “It’s because of your dick, how good you are at filling her up with your load.”

“Yeah, Yubin, your cock is my favorite,” Yoohyeon says.

“Aww, you guys don’t have to say that, hss.” Yubin must have felt Yoohyeon clench when your hands underneath her ass start to explore her tight ring once again. You pull apart the ample cheeks, a few fingers venturing deeper.

“No, no, toy. I know your favorite cock,” you whisper quieter in Yoohyeon’s ear while Yubin accelerates to a desperate pace, making cum fly out. “It’s the first one in and the last one out, the one that splits you open, the one that makes you cum from anal alone.”

Yubin whimpers and amplifies in the same way as her aggressive thrusts.

And then she stops.

“Oh, fuck.” A chorus of expletives, yours comes from the preeminent squeeze of Yoohyeon’s rear entrance; Yubin’s is brought by the rolling texture of the walls she sieges, your cock a neighborly newcomer into the shared buttocks.

Yoohyeon’s yelp is obvious.

As more and more of the whilom creampie is shoved out by meat, down to the blankets that line the couch with hindsight, Yoohyeon replaces it with her own stickiness. Two cocks inside a girl would get her a bit slippery; one cock, meek and losing meekness by the second as it pumps with mad lust, and another cock, thick and immense and ploddingly slow, makes her miss the eye of the hurricane.

While there is no light sleeper in Dreamcatcher, the bestirring of the other girls was inevitable. Minji puts an open hand up to her mouth in faux awe. “Oh my god.”

“Wow, you two are gonna make our puppy pass out,” Siyeon says. The two of them get on their phones.

Yubin, though often rough, has never gotten Yoohyeon to that point. You, however… “That’s just a regular occurrence. I love her whining, but that tight hole really relaxes when she’s been fucked out of her mind.”

You check up on Yoohyeon with a few light slaps to her cheek. “Hmm?” she says softly. The hum draws out as your plunges coincide with Yubin, though you lose that synchronicity when she has to readjust her cock and take a breath. Pause. Yubin pauses too. Both of your dicks are stakes that keep Yoohyeon upright as her holes adjust in throbbing and shifting.

“Yubin, how about you lie down?”

“I don’t know if we have space for that on this couch.” She looks at Minji, and you look at Siyeon, and naturally, they’re both touching themselves, fingers stroking furiously.

The audience pauses. Siyeon gets up, slides her pants back up. “Oh shit! I’m gonna be late for a recording! See you guys later!”

Minji stands too. “Aren’t you the manager?”

“Aren’t you the leader? Look who’s talking Ms. I-still-have-my-hand-on-my-cock.”

She looks down. “Dammit. I’m gonna go for a shower. A cold one. You kids have fun. Not too much without me.” Minji giggles and walks out of the living room.

“Can you order us some food?” you shout to the bathroom.

“Sure thing!”

“Now where was I?” Take stock.

Yubin is lying down on the couch next to you. Didn’t even notice when she pulled out, but now she’s jerking herself off, hands a complete mess of cum and juicy nectar. Yoohyeon is limp in your lap, a far cry from your tungsten rigidity inside her butt. Hoist her slightly; it’s enough to smack her cheeks, and she leans to the side where Yubin lays. Yubin pulls Yoohyeon for a kiss, though the kiss is filled with pained/pleasured moans as Yoohyeon is still impaled anally, just sideways on your crotch.

You hold her by the chest, drool and sweat-slicked, and carry her while keeping your cock inside of her until she’s on her hands and knees above Yubin. Kneeling behind Yoohyeon is a lot like sitting up when you awaken, slouching while you sit—such a natural position. Is it a waste of time admiring her butt in its proper presentation?

Yubin doesn’t seem to mind, returning to her makeout with Yoohyeon, though you see her bucking her hips up, poking her dick against tummy and clit. She could just align her shaft properly, but she’s too absorbed by lips—she must think she’s in control, her tongue all twirling inside Yoohyeon’s mouth, but she’s lost that control in lust.

Only when you slam your length into Yoohyeon’s receiving end does Yubin resume her sloppy fucking. Too high on her hands and knees, instead of just pushing Yoohyeon down so that Yubin can insert, you opt to just pound Yoohyeon as hard as you can. Slap and massage and fondle that butt while you destroy her asshole. “Take it, you fucking anal toy.”

Wide-eyed, Yubin stares at you, and though Yoohyeon tries to look back, she starts to feel the intensity in her muscles and bones that wish gelatin could give them some strength. Her knees and elbows buckle, and she readily falls into Yubin’s tender embrace, and her pussy falls to Yubin’s cock which spears with no such tenderness.

Back and forth, one shaft breaches, the other flies out. Sometimes, they both go in then they both go out. But neither you nor Yubin have the mind to harmonize again as you each give in to dick rattling bliss. Not once can you ever comfortably soak in the tautness of Yoohyeon’s rear passage, since you are just too big to idle—Yubin pressing against you once or twice a second doesn’t help. However, you can feel through Yoohyeon the way that Yubin flags.

“Oppa.” Hold on. Yubin never calls you that. She slides out from underneath Yoohyeon’s lazy, limbs-bent doggystyle which turns into her being face-down/ass-up with no support left.

“Uhh… what do you want?”

Shyly, she taps her two index fingers together. “Can I, um, well, can I use her ass too?”

“You know what?” You pinch Yubin’s cheeks. “Since you’re so adorable…” Pull out—Yoohyeon’s asshole grabs your width with longing—and Yubin sticks out her bottom lip. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you—oh.” Your lips stay rounded as Yubin rubs her cock on Yoohyeon’s glistening buttcheeks.

Though Yoohyeon hasn’t spoken much through the groaning and panting, she lights up like a puppy with a new toy. “Wait, wait, really?”

You’ve never considered it previously. While the deal gave you exclusive rights to her anal passage, it isn’t some kind of contract written in stone. Yoohyeon certainly has enough ass for two people. And you’re sure you can accommodate Yubin in there, considering you’ve put an extra finger once in a while for extreme pressure.

While you kneel on the couch, Yubin has one leg on the floor, the other one on her knee on the sofa. She’s entranced by how you make the considerable ass flesh jiggle, your rhythm restarting. Yubin bends down, drools on your cock, and slathers whatever fluids she can find with her hands. Then she puts an exploratory pinky in, coaxing a sore shout from Yoohyeon against the couch. A ring finger, and Yubin pumps. The added tension slows your hips down, but there’s enough give you to continue dragging along.

“Fuuck,” you say breathily. “Minji and Siyeon are really missing out. Imagine if they had their cocks in that sore pussy. Hmm, we have a long way to go for that, but goddamn. Such a tight fucktoy.”

“Yeah, unnie, you like my fingers, don’t you? You can feel my shaft on your ass? Now, what if I just…” Yubin’s fingers wriggle out, substituted by the tip of her dick.

“Oh god, oh god, is it gonna fit?”

Her question is fair; it’s her asshole, after all—

No, it’s yours, free to use (Yoohyeon’s exact words), and if you want to let Yubin have some fun too, then there isn’t anything stopping her but the natural order of the world. For example, two dicks don’t belong in a girl’s butt.

But Yoohyeon is different—she’s a cocksleeve. And like a good cocksleeve, she takes it happily when Yubin rubs and shakes her shaft, hands firm on her base, and presses down her whole weight into the sliver given.

In the extraction of your dick, only your tip remains in the tight ring, and as the hole adjusts to the new width, Dami finds an opening.

“Oh, fuuuu…” This refrain of strain takes on a high tone, whiny and prolonged and atonal, your concurrent cockheads easing their way in. However, it is anything but easy, each inch a trek, a mountain to climb. Yoohyeon’s back arches to the point that you’re afraid she might snap, and her face digs all the way into the couch. You need to hold on desperately to anything so that you don’t pass out. Your hands find her waist and use the leverage to pierce her further while Yubin holds onto you for presumably similar reasons.

Through thick and thin, Yoohyeon budges backward and has to use all remaining strength in addition to yours until finally, each cock is at its Marianas trench. Tears, you can see them drip down Yubin, you can feel them drip down on your face, and you can hear them from Yoohyeon.

Yoohyeon is the first to unfreeze, taking her hands between her crotch to finger herself.

“Holy shit,” you say, throat tight, “you really are an anal addict.”

“How are you… words…” While your throat is tight, Yubin seems to clam up completely.

“Just follow me, okay?”

You bring her hips back and move your hands back to Yoohyeon’s butt (where they belong) and push her forward. The motion is much more natural, as her asshole wants to be empty. It’s still a torpid affair, your dick pulling out and dragging Yubin’s along with it. Yet eventually, you end right where you started, and Yoohyeon reaches clumsily for a sack: she wants more.

Yubin is a passenger in the anal ride because when you ram yourself forward, she can’t help but be brought along once again. Every minute-long, scream-inducing exit is followed by another two minutes of entry. And you can’t know if the metrology is correct since your thoughts are in the hadopelagic, crushed. But with enough inward drives and outward hauls, you and Yubin finally match in lewd, ass-clapping cadence. All it took was to share holes.

“Oppa, oppa, I really, oh fuck, unnie, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your ass, gonna cum in your ass with another cock!”

Turn to the side and peck Yubin; the peck turns ravenous at once. You hold her chin and look her dead in the eyes. “You better fill this thick ass with your thick cum, make my dick feel all of your load. Or maybe I’ll push it up to her tummy to feel tomorrow, isn’t that right, fuckdoll.”

A piercing smack of Yoohyeon’s butt and a playful grab of Yubin’s butt and your disgusting words and the alluring rhythm and the overall tautness of her strained ring—They all come together in Yubin’s mind as a confluence of fire, like a ring of volcanoes, shaken in a bottle. Yubin pushes her digits down into the spine which is already folded, and with an overwhelming shout, she releases herself. The cock that nudges up against yours pulsates and fires an infinite stream into Yoohyeon, which you feel as your tip has to wade through the semen inside. Pumping and pumping, more of that semen seeps out between your shafts.

Stuffed, plugged, filled to the brim, the lush ass of Yoohyeon trembles as the stimulation arrives to her, a crash at the top of a mountain. She’s had plenty of orgasms today—none of them resulted in a fountain like this. Clear liquid sprayed from underneath where Yubin spent her load, and it soaks both of your thighs. With hooking, desperate digits, Yoohyeon fucks herself through her orgasm despite the extreme sensitivity, knowing that you’ll piston into her clenching tight hole regardless. This is when Yubin starts to go offbeat, or maybe your beats are too fast. Too much cum, too much meat, too much precious flesh, too much mind-numbing bliss.

You realize that it’s all too much and that Yubin and Yoohyeon both have an uncanny sense of timing because you yourself understand the ends of the Earth, the immensity of plate tectonics in your brain’s hormones as searing lava. Erupt. Hold Yubin’s hands. “Cuuum” isn’t much of a warning, but it’s more than Yubin, at least. And you can’t measure volume, as your seed mixes with hers in throbbing and tightening, but you’ve been saving up all day, and you feel it deep within. However long Yubin’s climax lasted, her little dick softening up and being pushed out, yours lasts twice as long. Your head spins.

Yubin unplugs herself, and the dirty girl gathers the load from her flaccid cock onto her fingers, tastes it. When she goes to give some to Yoohyeon, pulling Yoohyeon’s head off the blanket, you can see that Yoohyeon’s head must be spiraling in a deeper chasm than yours. Truly, even as you inject the last of you straight to her stomach before pulling out, Yoohyeon is still backing her ass up at the same desperate pace, a mind of its own.

Slowly detaching yourself, you lean against one end of the couch on its arm and see Yubin on the other end with shut eyes. Soon enough, Yoohyeon relaxes her ass and her knees and lays prone on the bed. Sit between her legs, and pull her up. You watch as the cum from her holes gurgles and churns out. There’s something beautiful in the disgusting.

Minji steps out of the shower in nothing but a towel. “So, anyone wanna fuck before dinner arrives?” she asks enthusiastically. She scratches her head as none of you even acknowledge her. “What’d I miss out on? Oh, you came in her ass. Nothing new.”

Yubin sighs heavily, you sigh heavily, and—oh good, Yoohyeon is still breathing.

Turn to face Minji. “Oh, we’ve definitely been trying some new stuff. Suck off Yubin’s adorable cock and tell me if you taste something familiar.”

Day 14, Food Play (Ningning)

Ningning is the sweetest girl you know, and you’re not sure you deserve someone like her. You’re content to do nothing all afternoon but stare at her, even if all she’s doing is scrolling through inane videos on the couch with you, sucking on a grape lollipop. Cozy up next to her; it’s a lazy day. There’s a half-finished slice of pillowy vanilla cake topped with whipped cream, the can still on the glass coffee table. You should really move the chocolate syrup back to the kitchen too since your living room is starting to look like a greedy dentist’s paradise. The fruit bowl doesn’t really make it better. (Lots of sugar in that as well.) However, you’re too focused on the girl and her giggles and pouts in reaction to the short videos that fly by.

Poke her on the shoulder, and she tips her head, ear towards you. But that’s not what you want.

“Ning. Ningning.”

“What?” she asks, still swiping down.

“Ningie, you know, you’re my sugar, my honey…”

“Hmm?” Her attention slowly leaves the screen.

“My candy, my sweetheart, my cutie-pie—”

Realization accelerates the asymptotic function—she’s reached her limit. “Stop!” Her whiny voice has been perfected. Ningning uses a throw pillow exactly as it’s named and tackles you onto the sofa. As you toss the little cushion off your face, red disperses her cheeks, and her waist holds down onto your legs. Though she’s in jeans, just stopping at your place before she has her lectures, you can feel her thighs squirm through your gym shorts. “You’re so mean.”

“How am I being mean? I’d say I’m doing just the oppo—”

This time, it’s a forkful of cake. “Wait, I wanted that.” Instead of grabbing another bite, she scooches and stoops to your face then takes a bite from your stationary mouth, keeping the purple lollipop in her offhand.

Had a feeling that was going to happen—it’s why you didn’t chew.

She doesn’t deem it enough, so she bows deeper for a second serving, though this time, her lips smack against yours. It would be a small, adorable gesture, but she adds the grape lollipop to the kiss, her ass begins a rocking motion—tempting, however slight the movement is—a mess of cake spills out onto chins, and a mess of tongues intertwine.

“Ning, we’re gonna get dirty!”

“So?” The change in her tone, in her gaze, transforms her into a seductive creature with the tiniest effort.

Pulling away from her eyes is a herculean feat, yet you have to so that you can get tissues and try to clean up. But Ningning pokes out her tongue and converges towards you and the vanilla filling on your chin. She laps you up like a hungry pet—no, she can’t be late for class yet again.

Unfortunately, she is the temptation of gluttony with how you want to eat her up. Plump red lips would be delicious making out on yours, more delicious on the rest of your body. Droplets of chocolate spill from those lips, and a strawberry between them matches the red. Ningning rests a playful finger on her chin, pointing to her mouth.

“You’re not gonna finish your food?” you ask.

She shakes her head with tiny lefts and rights and holds the strawberry so she can stick her tongue out. “Ahh.” Ningning takes the bottle of chocolate syrup from the table and squeezes a bit more onto her strawberry, trickling yet more.

“And you’re gonna get cavities too. Let me take care of that.” Her stature is minuscule compared to yours, and you need to dip a bit to take the chocolate-coated fruit from her mouth. She pulls off the leaf as you bite. A dribble of syrup falls between you and Ningning; some falls onto her bare shoulders, under her neck, the rest she collects with her fingers and after licking, she sucks on her nails and the tips. Relentless.

Ningning gives a final peck to her finger, steps towards you until an inch is an overstatement. “You’re feeling it too, right?”

“What?”

“This is kinda hot. The way the sticky food is getting on our bodies.”

“Damn. You’re right.”

She wraps her free hand around your neck, drawing you closer. Having kept the purple lollipop in her fingers the whole time, Ningning sucks on it again, now close enough that you can smell all the artificial sucrose flavors. Faux chocolate and fruity sugariness fuse into her growing allure. But as you attempt to take a lick on her lollipop, soft lips pursing, she drops down and kneels before you. “Hmm.” She tongues her candy then over your shorts then the candy again, back and forth. “You, you know what I wanna do but, ugh… I don’t wanna waste the lollipop!”

“So you’re gonna finish that first?”

“I dunno.” Ningning gasps when you yank your underwear down with your shorts. Her eyes dart between your partially hard meat and the purple sweet. “No! If you do that, then I really don’t know what to pick. Hm.”

It’s in her precious bratty nature to squeeze her lips around the grape candy. “I have an idea,” you say.

Ningning raises her brows, then her eyes widen when your hips advance forward. The head of your cock jabs into her lips; she drools around the lollipop. She whines, but the hum of her pillows on your tip only hardens you. After enough prodding, she accepts your dick, mouth open slightly with tongue flat underneath. The candy pokes into her cheek, and you feel the hard sticky sugar rub as her lips taste your tip. Down to the ridge, up to the drops of initial seed from your pinprick, a torturous intent on your sensitive cock head alone.

With enough plaints and moans from your mouth, Ningning releases you with a kiss. “Aww, I know you want me to throat you, but you just feed me so much yummy pre-cum”

Reach down to the can of whipped cream on the table; you point the nozzle towards your shaft.

“Isn’t the whipped cream kinda cliche?” Ningning asks.

“I mean, it would be if you were sucking my dick properly.“

"I’m sowwy.”

“Ningie. You don’t have to act like that anymore. We’re already here.”

“Act like what?”

You nudge the nozzle, spraying a swirl of cream on every inch or so. “Never mind.”

Ningning licks her lips and goes for the throat; alas, she chokes after only four dollops reach her lips. Though she tries her best to extend her tongue on the underside of your shaft, there is no whipped cream there. So when she gasps for air, saliva mixing with foamy dairy, her face falls.

Pat her head, stroke her head, and say, “It’s okay, baby. I know you can do it. You’re a good girl.”

At your words, you watch Ningning’s expression go from sullen to resolved as she takes precursory slurps. While she tastes from underneath, she’s careful in avoiding the whipped cream she doesn’t yet deserve, giving the bottom veins more love. After it’s saliva-slick enough for her liking, Ningning is back nurturing your cockhead.

“Oh, right!” She puts the lollipop in her mouth too, lips swirling between the two round tips. What started as a big ball of purple-dyed sugar is now less than the width of your dick. Ningning polishes both, and the hungry sloppy soggy suction is like she’s trying to suck your cock down to a similar size, like she wants you drained.

"If you wanna eat your food, don’t play with it.” Grab her by the hair and shove her head down. Five, six, you feel the barriers break while whipped cream paints her lips white the same way her lips paint your cock red.

Though the spewed spit, the sticky lollipop friction, Ningning smirks and coos when she reaches the base of your length. “Ahh, did, aht. Gsk.”

“And don’t talk with food in your mouth either.”

She backs up slowly, gulping down the sweet cream, and the distension of her throat disappears. “I said, I did it!”

“I knew you could. I know you haven’t done that in a while.”

“I knoow, I forgot that your whole dick is just as tasty as your cum. Speaking of which…” Each time Ningning switches modes from cute to cock-focused, it sends you into whiplash, though that might just be the drenched tightness as she sets a delirious rhythm face-fucking rhythm. She swallows your member like it’s Thanksgiving, like it’s Christmas, like it’s her last meal on Earth. Her head bobs, and your shaft slides in and out, even if it’s not so smooth whenever your tip hits her gag snag, only muddled by the dwindling candy in her mouth. But she’s so lewd that it doesn’t bother her if the room fills with moaned sounds that might spill into neighboring apartments, if every plunge makes saliva flow; she’ll gulp you down. No matter how much whipped cream you spray or how much chocolate syrup you squirt on, she isn’t satisfied with the flavor.

Ningning wants one filling alone, and at her fastest throat-fuck, your dick pulsates while your eyes shut and your muscles shudder. Hold her head down, and with the cloying sensation of the warm wet of her mouth, you feed the first few drops straight to her stomach—fuck taste buds. However, she pushes you back, and you relent, grabbing an improvised ponytail to tug her back until you’re giving your salty-bittersweet jizz for her to taste, next to the remaining pebble of her grape lollipop.

Her hands, though they struggle to wrap the whole way around your width, stroke and jerk to get as much of your seed as she can. The rough yet enthusiastic stroking intensifies your orgasmic palpitations so that your load flies everywhere in reckless arcs. It gets on the last bits of her cake, on the plate, on the strawberries and melon and blueberries and bananas; a stream of it courses down the soggy stick of her candy. But of course, cream is best served on her face—lips to cheeks to eyebrows all gooey—and by the time your wild shots become feeble drips, one hand lets go to spread the cum before bringing it to her mouth to eat her treat up happily.

Sit down, panting and groaning and letting your dick rest.

Ningning sees the mess on the table and is distraught by the realization. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, don’t worry—”

Respite for your dick doesn’t last long when she begins cleaning up the cum on the furniture and food with her tongue. Ningning eats the fruit pieces stained with your load, shows off her empty mouth when she eats the last semen-iced cake, then mixes a puddle of cum with chocolate syrup on the glass table and laps it up, leaving a dirty trail which she cleans with more tonguing. “Damn. That was good.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” Ningning says, licking her fingers. “So I was thinking about a new diet recently…”

Day 15, Tit Fucking (Jamie, Lee Hi)

Hell is what you make of it. You’ve been drinking too much to refuse the otherwise truth. And it must be true because hell can’t be so goddamn hot—

Wait, it should be, god damned and all.

Drinking too much is an understatement then.

What confuses you and brings about hallucinations of hellfire is the presence of the Devil herself, along with her secretary; they turn out to just be a couple of women dressed in the usual slutty Halloween attire.

The fire is tangible though, albeit inside your core. You work inwards towards your consciousness: you’re at a costume party at a rented house, way bigger than your own; it’s a chilly, breath-visible October evening, and you should have some outfit on—can’t even recall what it was other than a suit and a mask; instead, you’re naked in this bedroom as dimly lit as your drunken awareness.

A wakeful version of you would have noticed the two women on their knees at the foot of the bed, tugging on your suit pants. This would make you the master of hypothetical damnation, the antonym of punishment for sinners.

“I told you he had a big dick.”

“How’d you know? Damn, Jamie, good catch. And it’s not even hard yet.”

Each voice is distinct, but you can’t place them on the tip of your tongue the same way they place your tip on the tip of their tongues for a first taste, but they pull back as they clash in timing. The more well-endowed secretary, with the neckline of her pinstripe dress deep down her cleavage, draws your interest first, her hands cupping your balls. “If I told you instinct, would you believe me?” Jamie asks.

“I don’t understand. He was staring at our tits all night. Is that how you know? Wait, that doesn’t make sense.” The tipsy devil in the red dress is more of a succubus, playfully poking at your legs with the toy trident and wetting her lips with her drool.

Jamie massages and rolls your sack around her grasp. “That would make every guy hung. Nah, Hayi, you should know first. I saw the way you were grinding on him.”

Hayi. Jamie. These names are familiar, but they pass over you.

“Oh, yeah. Damn, how much did I drink?” Hayi scratches her temple.

“Well,” Jamie says, “definitely not as much as this kid.”

“Kid?” you interject, recouping a random spark of awareness with a notably tight cinch on your writhing balls. The heavy lipstick, the faux scar across her nose, the red-tinged hair tied back all stand out, but none as much as her collar and short tie which points straight to her breast’s open valley—look at me, it clamors, and you can’t deny the order.

Hayi leaves one hand wrapped around your flaccid shaft. Her thumb and index finger stimulate under your tip, and more light hits your eyes. A stronger flush on her cheeks, thin plastic devil horns atop her short-haired purple wig, gems under her eyes, and a choker for the black belt head-givers.

“Woah. That’s a lot. This isn’t some fresh-faced college dick’s puny thing. This is a dick fit for a daddy.” Hayi puts a free hand up to her lips, as though she didn’t mean to say that—she meant to say that.

Jamie smirks, her hand joining Hayi’s. “But you think you can get it up, mister?”

With an eager mind of its own, your dick perks up in their warm hands after a couple of lazy twists. While Jamie mouths a “wow”, Hayi spits on your tip, claiming it for herself.

“Let me try first.”

Jamie hikes Hayi’s dress up and spanks her ass, a surprised whimper. “Go for it.”

Hayi slips dress-straps off her shoulder and unhooks her black bra; after she throws the bra towards you and loosens her arms from the straps, the dress hugs its way down her chest. Beautifully perky handfuls—no, bigger—spring just a touch at the freedom. Only the moonlight and the streetlight from outside reveal the trace sweat that’s built upon her skin; your warmth must emanate, or maybe it was earlier dancing and shaking. Regardless, Hayi holds them up proudly, her fingers trailing towards her nipples. “Not bad, hmm?”

Not at all. Shake your head. “You two are so fucking sexy.”

Hayi bites her lip—“Thank you, daddy”—while Jamie helps her by tugging down the dress to her waist. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume the tattoo between her ribs was some mystical mark of seduction, the sensation magical as she scrapes your cock up and down against it. Rivers of drool make her tattoo glimmer in your eyes; your shaft is a tributary. Hayi rises from her knees, only enough for her to get your length properly seated in her cleavage before she kneels back down. She needs to push together her breasts for full effect, but at once, the pillows of her chest bury you alive.

Rapt, you can only stroke Hayi’s fake hair and watch as she bounces up and down. Hormones drizzle into your mind. Must be the same for Hayi as her nipples stiffen at the stimulation between breasts alone, while her legs writhe and rub together.

Jamie massages your thighs, the muscles in your arms and chest. She gets up, closer to your face so she can whisper in your ears, “Look at baby girl over here. She must be fucking dripping. I bet she could even cum like that, don’t you think?”

Hayi moans and mewls each time she drops her chest until your length peeps out from between, tongue unfurled to its utmost.

“She can’t even reach the tip. How cute,” Jamie says.

Trying to help out Hayi’s open, waiting mouth, you diligently thrust your waist up and on occasion, you raise your hip, requiring your core strength as your legs dangle off the bed. Jamie takes advantage of your diligence by kissing you. You can do nothing, don’t want to do anything when Jamie’s tongue explores your mouth, lewdly sending spit that’s wasted dribbling onto your chin. She makes sure not to waste by exiting and tongue cleaning the saliva, though you realize that’s an excuse for her to leave bruises on your neck. The suction of her lips is powerful—not enough for you to forget the perky breasts that stroke your cock.

Indeed, when Hayi stops lifting and lowering them in sync, and her boobs feel like they’re twisting around your shaft as one goes up and the other goes down, you forget every square inch of your body that isn’t your delicate diamond-hard dick. You sense a bit of jealousy in Jamie’s coos and hums on your neck, but you’re content to let them work it out.

“You have really nice tits, Hayi, but you know…” Jamie looks down.

“That’s not fair!”

“Hey, I just work with what my dad gave me.”

“But daddy didn’t cum yet!”

“So? I didn’t get my turn. Oh, I get it. You don’t want to hear him admit who gives better titfucks.”

“Fine. Take him.” Hayi harumphs.

Jamie lowers her tone, almost growling at you. “Don’t you feel bad? Such a pretty girl with such nice tits like Hayi giving you a titfuck, and you still have your eyes on my cleavage.”

To begin, Jamie keeps her dress on, as there’s plenty of creamy soft skin on display. She leans over to peck on your abs, and the channel between her tits naturally falls into place. Breasts weigh down on you while her nipples tickle you. Your cock jerks up every time she squishes her tits together with her elbows; it twitches more when her kisses fall from midriff to cock. A hitched inhalation.

“I know what you’re here for, mister.”

Each button that she unfastens is a grueling test of your patience—a test of her dress’s integrity too. Seems that at the burst, suit flaps will fly open, which is why Jamie holds the neckline and only allows it to open at her own leisure, though more likely she’s just trying to tease and make your cock long for her rack.

Well, it’s plenty long now.

Finally, her great bosom is free, and gravity casts its natural form which makes you slaver onto your chest. So familiar is the spectacle that the round shape scrolls past the forefront of your mind yet is quickly dismissed by her approach. Jamie sandwiches her boobs between her arms and aligns your length towards the tight, sweaty valley. “Fuck my tits. Use my body like it’s just another hole.”

Wedged like a sheathe, you’re unhurried in your entrance as you savor the squishy compressibility of her breasts as the flesh works its way around your shaft’s grooves. It’s the nicest vice, the meanest elation. A reprise of a hand on your balls obliges you to move faster—still agony in steadiness—if only there weren’t so much pleasurable pressure impeding you.

Of course, with Jamie’s bigger tits, there’s more silky skin to embrace your cock. And it’s softer too, more pliant in your hands, taking on your width and your shape better—though Jamie may just better at salivating for your shaft. Either way, the bed doesn’t even near the softness that lingers on your mind. The sheer mass of her mountains dawns upon when she adds her hands on top of yours; there’s enough room for the two of you to grope.

This whole time, you’ve only embedded yourself halfway.

Long enough for her ample breast flesh to engulf the bulk of your dick, your cockhead surfaces out from between. At last. Jamie still needs to bow her head, strain herself to take your member into her mouth. Your fingers dig into her one last time to earn an unexpectedly cute yet; then they fall to your sides and relocate to the back of her head while her hands knead smaller grasps until she pinches hard tips alone.

Even if you aren’t moving, Jamie has thicker lips than Hayi which makes her nuzzling and sipping more moan-inducing, more paralyzing. If her body had ratings, you know those lips would be too low given that her chest steals the spotlight. Eventually, Jamie unlocks your dick from her lips and lets your shaft slide downward. The both of you work together to create a loving, filthy rhythm. You fuck her tits like she’s riding you, and she has the same carom as perfect fat and muscle rebound against your lap.

Loud pops, squelchy spit-caused noises mingle with Hayi’s moans on the side; she begins stroking into her pussy, divested completely off her dress. It’s fitting the only thing left on her is the choker when she starts to slinks underneath and moans around the base of length, readily receiving every filthy, thick fluid that drops onto her face. Not so much a devil nor succubus, but a sinful nympho nonetheless, aiming to vie for your attention.

Jamie can’t let that happen. Sometimes, she releases her boobs, allowing herself to completely throat herself onto your cock. More. Saliva. More. Pre-cum. She tears up. Mascara runs. Sweat on her hair. The makeup-made scar on her face falls off with her lashes while her chin drips. Just like Hayi, the only thing that stays on Jamie’s body is her collar and tie; the rest of the dress and her thong are keenly pulled off, flying to the corner of the room. You notice more of Jamie’s curves, shaking as the intensity of her facefuck alone makes Hayi back off. You can only say Jamie would make a good secretary if her position were underneath a desk the whole workday.

Hayi interrupts with a rippling slap to Jamie’s tits. “Hey!” Jamie says, annoyed, though not without a docile moan.

“You’re having all the fun here. Aren’t you supposed to be giving daddy a titfuck?”

“Sorry, Hayi, I just get really into sucking cock. And look at him.”

Your head is in the clouds, your eyes glassy. Difficult to think about anything other than the constriction of her throat.

“But you’re right.” Jamie places her lips along the side of your member, hums, and mumbles through the shaft. “Don’t you wanna taste it, too?”

“Of course! Daddy, you don’t mind if I have some of your dick again?”

Not at all, but any reaction is too slow for them. Jamie starts by returning where your end will begin.

Lips joined at your tip stay joined going down your length. But at the base, they diverge. Jamie works on your ball-sack while Hayi licks up the side of your shaft. After milking enough pre-cum, Jamie works her way up on the other side of your shaft and places her puffy lips on your cockhead. One gulp of your length in, then Hayi takes her turn to swallow your meat. Each back and forth session becomes longer, needier, uncaring of the other as they spear their faces with cock. When Jamie’s full lips aren’t busy, she’s back on your balls, taking each one to enjoy the spit-wet warmth of her mouth, and when Hayi isn’t in a frenzy deepthroating you, she gives you smooches and licks around the base of your shaft.

As your hands, your legs, even your grunts lose power, the women slow down their salacious double blowjob.

“Feels like we’re missing something,” Hayi says after clearing your dick from her lips.

“Yeah,” Jamie adds as she pulls back as well. “Oh, duh.” She palms each of Hayi’s mounds and massages them.

“Oh, fuck.” Hayi whines when Jamie addresses one nipple with fingertips, then the other, and you’re happy watching Hayi return the favor. Even if your cock isn’t between them, it stays solid as ever because of the two talented women making out.

“Wait a second.” The two of them turn to you. “Aren’t you both, uhh, singers?”

Hayi smiles; Jamie is bewildered. “Really?”

“Really, what?” you reply.

“Daddy, don’t worry about it. I get it. I’m feeling woozy too, and you know, if I didn’t know my name, I wouldn’t know my name or anything.”

“Huh?”

Jamie pulls you until your feet are no longer hanging, planted on the ground, and your waist is on the edge of the bed.

On your left, Hayi’s hands support her tits while she makes a steady stream of saliva that flows warmly on the side of your shaft. On your right, Jamie takes her larger mounds and droops down to your feet. One of Hayi’s boobs presses between your stomach and your cock; the other one, she nudges up your length before letting it fall. Jamie swiftly reminds you of her presence when she drags her breasts up against your legs with more erratic sprays of spit to smoothen the ride. Your calf, knee, and eventually thigh are graced with the finest squishiness, her lips garnishing the trip to your cock, until finally, her tits bump into Hayi’s. Hayi lowers herself so that she can make eye contact, be level with Jamie, and match the distinct shapes and sizes of their mounds together by aligning their nipples.

“Look at him,” Jamie says, and Hayi follows. “Must be heaven on Earth.”

“Makes me feel good too though when daddy feels good.”

Precisely. Your moans and pleading gibberish mirror the sounds that Hayi makes when Jamie circles her tits, mutually stimulating their sensitive nubs. The tricollective pleasure heightens as their surrounding flesh does the same, lifting to shield your cock from any last threat of light—it shines too prettily. To hide further, they push their boobs together until every corner closes in, until the novel sensation trounces you and makes your chest rise as you arch your back in overt bliss.

“Mnnn,” they duet in hums of bliss; the hums become even louder in their makeout session while they twist their tits. This is nothing like the warm hold of a quivering pussy or gagging throat: the smooth skin is only wet from sweat and drool which amplifies every frictive force, and pillowy textures trap you like no other hole.

You don’t want to be free, and even when you are, freedom isn’t free. Sure, your cockhead is exposed to the air when your length is intimately inside the makeshift hole, but they stop making out and their lips probe and tongues lap the moment your leaky end comes loose. “You’re both so good with your mouths and your tits. Fuck, have you done this before?”

“Hayi, you’ve never given a titfuck, have you?”

She denies it in gesture, but gesture is also what coaxes dribbles of white from your cock. “Of course, you have.”

“Don’t talk like you’re not a freak in the sheets,” Jamie says. “Didn’t you let a guy fuck you in the ass after the second—”

Hayi smacks her hand towards Jamie’s face and holds it there. “No! It… third.”

“See, she’s no stranger to this. Not like I’ve given a double titfuck. And besides…” Jamie leans back to the right for a break, and Hayi immediately takes real estate on your cock—she looks poised to charge rent if you were a tenant named Jamie. “What have you been calling him all night?”

“Fuck. Daddy, don’t worry. I’m not a slut or anything. I only call people with big dicks like yours daddy.” Pecks pepper your cockhead, and Hayi manages to get red lipstick on it despite how much makeup has been washed away.

“Sure you do.” Stroke Hayi’s hair, and while Jamie is busy catching a breath—those must be killer on the back when free—slap on her sensitive bags of flesh. After the first, your smacks escalate, audible skin strikes like clapping in the room. How they undulate, moonlit silhouettes making waves, and how the faint red is almost a glow of handprints make you want to give her more.

“Nngh, damn. I didn’t expect that out of you, mister. Thought you’d be wasted by now.”

Your hits slacken, turning more into digits that burrow into her tits as returns to provide her half of flesh-blanketing ecstasy. Your left hand which once gingerly caressed Hayi’s wig now falters. Shaky, as you feel your doom at hand, but it also focuses more on her choker—no, her neck. That is, your fingers alone understand jealousy, want to know the place of her necklace, twisting and writhing.

“Daddy, you’re so rough. God, it makes me so wet.” Hayi fingers herself again, and she transfers the viscous strands on her fingers onto your cock whenever she has the chance. “Oh, fuck, that feels so good around your dick, so good rubbing against Jamie’s huge tits, but is it bad if I just want to jump on you? Make you creampie me right now?”

Lord, the offer is tempting, but Jamie keeps you grounding when she reaches over and starts sucking on Hayi’s collarbone and neck to leave hickies then she sucks your fingers that wrap around to tell you who’s in charge here. It’s enough to keep you focused on fucking the space that their shared cleavage makes, to keep Hayi weaving her pert breasts around your shaft. (Truthfully, it’s more of Jamie swatching you, but the effort does not go unnoticed.) From the high, delightful pressure of quadruple peaks, you buck your hips up and propel yourself with more acceleration. The acceleration transfers energy to heat—down in the depths of inferno once again. It’s a comprehensive collection of the most pleasurable sins that rack up to the nth degree, Fahrenheit or Celsius.

Hayi attempts to get a final suck of your tip between her lips, but you pull her face up, and she pouts.

“That’s right, don’t be such a needy slut,” Jamie says. “I’m sure there’s plenty for the both of us.”

And she’s right. At the top, an escape from the tightly winding muscles. At that spot, mouths agog. At last, long last, you erupt. Jamie and Hayi stick their tongues out to catch whatever semen they can, but it spurts everywhere, from their faces to collarbones, shoulders, and boobs. While Hayi slows down her pace, trying her best to collect seed where it flies and where it lands, Jamie returns to slamming tits down onto your crotch, the contrasting feelings lengthening the weight of your sins, crashing down like the heights of fire eternal.

Still going at it, Jamie finds Hayi’s lazily open lips, lolling tongue, and once again devours her. This time, ulterior motives mean that she’s not only reveling in the euphoria but also cleaning and claiming as much of your cum as she can. If it’s in Hayi’s cheeks, she’ll lick it up as well as she licks up that sticky, semen-drippy neck.

You revel in the euphoria too because your cock finds too much purchase to escape and your mind finds no need to either.

The next moments are a dream: Hayi joins Jamie in kissing your cock clean, before the two of them get up on the bed, knees red. A lapse in memories’ time. They don more casual pants, though neither have tops on, then another lapse and both of them are giggling on their phones.

“Wow, you’re right, these are filthy.”

Jamie sets down her device and turns to face you. “So you’re a writer… and you know I’m pretty good with the English language, right? You’re lucky those stories made me really wet. Hayi liked them too, didn’t you?”

“Yess,” she says, staring right into your tired eyes. “Yes, daddy.”

Splay your arms on each side, and they lay their necks upon them. You wrap around their chests, massaging each girls’ tender flesh. Tonight, you don’t need pillows to hold on to.

Day 16, Gangbang (IU)

One grain of sand isn’t much of a sight; neither is two. With a trillion of them, you could sell average-sized hotel rooms with below-average cleanliness for double the price. Beauty in the chaos of the crowd. Lovely in the number. The blue horizon, the sheer volume of water, only adds to the effect.

Earlier, you would have lamented about a vacation, being on a beach, escaping the cubicle in the boring cuboid skyscraper. In the basement, an entire village of workers sorts, redirects, and loads packages. At heights that would have deities scattering language, the village council takes calls; some of them get on their knees, some of them stand tall and stare, while all of them are looking for a single pen stroke at the bottom of a paper of utmost importance (notarized, of course). You’re in the middle, the everyman’s everyman, the background villager that anyone could self-insert into, and you’re in a large reception hall people have worked lives to be in, even sacrificed vacation days for a chance.

All it took was one raffle hosted by your company, an annual prize to loyal employees. No one realized this one would be the most coveted of all. Jieun is celebrating her twelfth anniversary with twelve men, and you’re fortunate to have the number 12 on a lanyard to let you within the sealed doors.

The fan meeting starts normally, if not an atypically closed affair. She would normally have a massive audience, a theater packed to the top row. However, this one is special. A dozen fancy lounge chairs are quite an uncommon sight to find in a large room typically reserved for wedding receptions. Jieun sits at a small round table, with a gorgeous flowing black dress, transparent sleeves on her arm, but most remarkable are the blankets and mattress laid out at random on the floor.

It starts with a one-on-one meal. Tiny portions of beef, unknown green leaves, and colorful sauces in haute cuisine presentation, so that even by the time she reaches you, Jieun is as enthusiastic as ever. She sips then pours more champagne into her thin flute. Timid, almost shaky, you mirror her every action.

“I’m still a little confused, n… Can I call you noona?” you ask, sitting across from her. Your all-navy suit is nicer than any attire you chose for interviews or weddings.

“Of course.” Her smile melts away anything cold, chips away at every negative emotion, thrums your through and through. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the gymnasium-sized room.

“So, um, noona.” Look around the room. The other eleven fans look more anxious than impatient. It’s fair; you felt the same way waiting for your turn, time that fled just staring at her. “You ran a whole background check on me and everything.”

“Yep.”

“That seems like a bit much for a fanmeet.”

“Well, when it’s such an intimate event like this, I have to be sure.”

“It feels like you have the military right outside the door with all the security guards.” You laugh nervously. “But I, well, uh. Found out… You got my STD tests too?”

“Oh, cutie pie.” Jieun pinches your cheek and plays with your feet under the table. She whispers, “I got much more than that.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Her voice is still low. “I heard from a friend of a friend that you’re such a good fuck.”

Your eyes slam open. Clockwork in your head rattles.

“And I needed to make sure you were trustworthy. As much as this is a present for the fans, I need to enjoy myself too. Oh, look at that. Looks like you just finished your food.” Jieun stands. How did you scarf it all down without thought? “Alright, Uaena! Are we ready for the main event?”

Cheers from behind you, and now you’re the only one still seated.

Without warning, in a delirious minute, you’re the only one still decent. The other eleven follow Jieun in disrobing until they’re in their underwear. Meanwhile, Jieun has a whole nother layer of clothing underneath. All-black again. The skin-hugging shorts, a sheer mesh top atop a simple brassiere, the garter digging slightly into her thigh while her petite ass is lifted by her very tall heels; she twirls around to show you.

Despite confusion—did everyone get an email beforehand?—you’re a slave to the moment, shedding down to your boxers the same as everyone else. And just like the others, you keep your numbered lanyard on too.

“Come on, cutie, get back in your seat. I have a show to do first.”

Return to your comfy chair. It feels like a throne, and sitting upon it makes you feel like a king among twelve kings. Jieun moves the table to the side, takes her phone, and plays music. She finds a mic and taps it.

“Hello! Welcome to IU’s twelfth anniversary extra-special fan-meeting!”

Applause which you join in.

“Tonight, you and I, all of you, are going to become one through… music. We can start with that. I’ll perform everyone’s favorite songs, what everyone expects and, well, we’ll figure out what you boys wanna do from there.”

Piano and strings fill the room fast, but not as much as Jieun’s ever-soothing voice. The gorgeous airy light singing enthralls the small crowd of you as much as her dancing and her body. She hits those famous high-notes with ease and performs the highlights of her discography up to Lilac.

Of course, while you assume this section is just to enjoy her stage presence, her ability to command attention, you find a few of the other guys with hands down their pants. “Yo, what the fuck?” you say out loud, but it reaches nobody. In fact, in the middle of choreography, Jieun makes eye contact with one guy—number 4, he’s got high cheekbones, sharp eyes—and winks at him when he pulls his dick out from his underwear.

So, you missed a memo.

She winds down, wipes sweat off her brow, and puts away the microphone. Jieun walks up to number 4 and sits on his lap. Other guys start to stand up and throw their underwear to the side. “Looks like Mr. Eager over here was the first one brave enough to volunteer.”

Jieun grinds against him. Your mouth is agape, jaw straight to the floor when she starts to service the people in a circle around #4, leaving his lap to get on her knees. You have no choice but to follow their lead, and you’re thankful because she gives nice and wet kisses to each cock in front of her. Red lipstick faintly marks shafts in different places; yours is square on your tip.

“Noona, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I know,” Jieun says, licking up the side of someone else’s cock, “that I left it as a surprise for you. But truth be told, I wanted to see your reaction. I love your adorable face.”

The warmth in her words assuages any doubt in your mind: you will gladly partake in the madness.

Her initial sucking comes with panting and sucking, sweaty from the earlier performance, but it’s not enough for one guy. A tanner man, a whole head taller than you, takes initiative—just like number 4, he could be a model. Numbered 11 on his lanyard, he is avid to get drunk in lust because as soon as Jieun has his cock in her lips, he thrusts and plunges down her throat. She holds onto his legs, reciprocates by pushing further. You help your neighbor out and place a hand behind her head for support.

It starts a chain reaction of blowjobs, of cocks that pop in and out of her mouth. A variety of shapes and sizes, though it’s obvious the 9-labeled man is the longest of all of you. Jieun can only enclose half of his length with her lips before suffocating, before a visible bulge in her neck stops her. For his part, he looks thankful, dark circles under his eyes.

“Damn man,” you say to him, a few spots over in the circle. “You didn’t get any sleep?”

He grunts when Jieun’s throat squeezes. “Damn. Bro, I couldn’t sleep. I was already up all night trading crypto on margin, it’s not like this helped my heart rate slow down at all.”

Nod in commiseration.

The shadow of number 7’s trimmed facial hair suits him unusually well, though he has a shift look about him. “Really, crypto? Let me tell you, it’s all about real estate.”

On the opposite end of the circle, the fourth man interjects, “Are you guys kidding me? The most beautiful girl on her knees, and you’re gonna talk about money?”

Jieun spits out 9’s cock. “I don’t mind, I know you boys have plenty of time on your hands. I’m just one girl after all.” She’s one girl, sure, yet she tries her hardest to please as many as possible with all her appendages. Everyone shuts up and returns to stroking their dicks in unison if Jieun doesn’t have her hands on their cock instead. Every individual blowjob she gives adds lubricating spit to the interlude masturbation. She crawls around, moves on to number 10, and keeps eye contact as she sips on his tip. “Fuck, your pre-cum is so tasty. So you’ve been following my instructions, then?”

“Of course, Jieun. Fruits every day.” Jieun’s long dark hair becomes a tight bundle in his hands. His glasses slide a touch down his nose. He’s definitely the suave nerd type. “Please, ugh, I don’t wanna cum yet. I’ve been saving up.”

Jieun’s lips slide deeper in mischief, wrinkling and loudly sucking. One of her hands fondles his balls while the other fondles your own simultaneously. Your moans are deeper than his, even though his face writhes more. “It’s so yummy though,” she says as she gives a final cute lick on the underside of his thrashing cockhead.

Some men wait patiently for their turn, others break rank in the circle and leave to feel up her legs, her neck. She loosens her necktie as she goes through the whole file.

You are the average, stand out solely in the value of your y-coordinate on the bell curve: your dick isn’t the longest or thickest, nor is it the shortest; you won’t unleash the most cum, last the longest; you’re not particularly tall or short; and even if you’re number 12, you aren’t even first or last. In the exact middle of the crowd, you stand.

And that’s okay—because, in the exact middle, she fucks her face onto you with the same passion, and nonetheless, you will cum all over Jieun’s face, her eyes, or the ruined makeup of her lips. “God, noona, how are you so good at this,” you say, groaning, and she can only smile and coo on your shaft.

And though you’re in the middle, the middle is still great; this group is an exceptional group of men since she is unable to fully wrap her fingers around anyone’s girth, though she tries her hardest to twist and tug every shaft that enters her vicinity. “Guhch, gch” are the sounds straight from her throat as you hold her sweaty, spit-slicked face against your stomach.

And her makeup is not that ruined because even if the mascara smudges to her cheeks, more running whenever you hit the back of her throat, it still matches her all-black attire.

The skin-hugging shorts pulled down.

The sleeveless crop-top pulled up.

The mesh top layer soggy with spit.

Now, her garter is a conduit for seed to run through when the zealous #4 strokes himself and gives her the first load on her legs, a starter pistol that shoots more than blanks to cover her thigh in stickiness.

But that’s enough of clothing; handsy guy number 5 deems as much when he tugs at her sleeves. He’s the one who’s been touching her the most with his sizable hands, a fancy Rolex on his wrist. One by one, articles are torn off of her until only the garter remains. But clever Mr. 11 takes back the tie and fashions it as an ad hoc collar around her neck. He brings Jieun to her knees, pulls her around, and makes her crawl.

“Isn’t this where you belong?” he asks with a wry smile.

She looks up with beady, expectant eyes and nods, a cute faux-pout. Look down and already, you find traces of her excitement between her legs.

Another couple of guys pull Jieun back up to make out with her. Meanwhile, a guy on his knees, hair dyed dark blue like an idol, skin as white as Jieun’s, pecks at her calves and ankles.

“So we have someone who wants to be even lower,” Mr. 11 says with an amused chuckle.

Idol-guy wipes his mouth, looks up, and grins. “Nah, I’ve just always wanted to taste her feet.”

Jieun scrunches up his hair. “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?”

He takes it as a cue to remove one of her heels, but then Jieun trips. When you try to catch her, you stumble too; luckily, there’s a bed for you to fall on. You feel the lightness of her small body as her back presses into your cock.

She looks back at you. “Sorry, cutie. Oh, looks like your dick doesn’t mind the way my ass feels on it though.”

Less than minding, your shaft cherishes the temporary softness, the wetness of her folds that grows as number 8 sucks her toes and licks the arch and sole of her feet.

Yet again, however, you are not the first, content with going along with it all, letting her sit in your lap while other men slap her with meat. Your dick stays firm anyway watching her glistening pussy being spread with fingers. Naturally, it’s the fifth man who takes his digits and unfolds the lips apart tenderly, but he’s willing to concede to the bespectacled #10.

Like another first shot across the bow, his entrance is a signal for everyone to turn into a horny frenzy. Half a dozen jerk off while the other half dozen wait in a more packed crowd around her. Glasses guy pounds her pussy for a few minutes, but after a tap on his shoulder, he gives up his spot. This is a lawless land, yet all of you are willing to share. Must have been quite the thorough search for such a crew of selfless guys when the naked Jieun is free to use for the whole room.

She is a single drop in a sea of men, and she is spread around the room like a stirred droplet of semen in water. Her mouth, her legs, her arms spread too—spread to receive, spread to drool and tighten and purse and extract and get her hands between her legs so she can climax. And after enough clenching and cumming on her body, number 5 is the first to explode inside of her body. Whether there’s cock inside of her or not, she kneads her clit and pleasures herself anyway. Her legs wriggle, and that first seed spills out. Sure, it’s a waste of the creampie, but that’s just aesthetic, a message to her fans: She’ll take it in any hole, like a good cum receptacle, just how the nation’s sister should be.

Modest breasts in rough hands, tweaking nipples. Legs down to feet caressed the whole way to relax. Lips on her nape and her ear and her cheeks and none of them fail to leave a mark in their wanton suction. Where did that large bottle of clear viscous lube come from? Who knows, but five-man continues to massage her using the sticky substance as a medium.

But soon the massage turns rough when it’s your turn inside her needy cunt. Lay on a mattress and let the squelchy sounds overtake your hearing and let the sensations blur your vision like a hallucination won’t stop passing by your mind.

One man choking Jieun with hands on gossamer flesh and the other with his cock from above treating the inside tunnel of that flesh like a mechanical piston and two men fucking hands as though pussy, wet from spit and lube and miscellany fluids such as sweat and squirt, while fingers curl and twist all in all one for the many, the wicked, the wise, all paid less than a penny and fuck her as such, and you, a man triumphant standing joyous and proud in her walls knocked down like Babylon to her womb knocked up so she sings murmurs and whimpers that vibrate cock and make pathetic empathetic empathic sounds through hordes of men like a siege perpetual in motion though finite in incursive armies, inerrant in resupply.

It’s dizzying, disorienting, and you can’t say where you are. Like continuity has been completely shattered. Like a random sequence of disorderly events. Like it’s been ejaculated into existence carelessly. Sometimes, you’re at the edge of the room to catch a breath, to drink some more champagne; sometimes, side by side with your fellow man stroking above her face; sometimes, inside of her mouth, but she spews your shaft out needing a breath herself.

Jieun lets a sorry inhale slip past then inhales your cock back in. “Thank you.”

You’re welcome in her folds, soaked and wild.

Soaked and wild and truthfully, used, slicked with other men’s cum, some from Jieun’s pussy, sore, throbbing and pulsating but still clenching, yet more gooey slick from her asshole oozing down like melted candle wax to your shaft, filthy and indifferently thrusting to the filth of it all.

As she rides you with pure joy, she jerks off two guys on the side, #7 with the mustache, #2 with a pinch of gray hair. Her oscillations on your cock make her alternating blowjobs between the two men more mind-melting. Sure, 7 could be your landlord (even if he didn’t mention real estate, you’d know since they have a look—it might be the hair that stays neat through all the sweat) and 2 could be your professor (this one’s more obvious, a stern older face yet dashing regardless), but you’re all equals in this palace of an aleph-null cardinality carnality.

Someone takes an unopened bottle of champagne and sprays it all over her body, and everyone laughs and revels in the mess, but the landlord-looking guy leaves the pleasure of Jieun’s stroking hands to lick up her body, unperturbed by the sweat and spit and cum of other men.

Cum glues her eyes too as a third from behind approaches—number 1 must be in college, and though he might be closest to your age, he has to be the youngest of the group. The first-numbered guy lays his dick onto Jieun’s face and leaks pre-cum onto the existing fluids. He spits in her eyes, getting it mixed with more cum as others join in to cake her face with icing. No amount of semen can wipe her big adorable smile; in fact, when the cum naturally seeps into her mouth, she gulps down happily. The insulation of blankets and mattresses can’t stop the moans from echoing through the reception hall.

Your hands dig into Jieun’s rocking, grinding hips, and you have no choice. When your climax surfaces, you have to hold onto her waist. No matter how tight you hold, she keeps bouncing, keeps clenching your cock to a snug end, keeps licking up semen and spit fed to her mouth. One last plunge and your balls contort, your dick contracts, and you explode for the first of, no doubt, many times tonight. Your cream spills between the taut hold of her sticky, grippy pussy. Only when your high subsides can you open your eyes and notice number 3 on the side with a champagne glass.

He’s been waiting patiently the whole time. While he’s the most stout of the bunch, he’s as handsome as the rest of you with his strong jaw and more impressive facial hair than number 7; more than any of that though, he certainly has the thickest dick, an actual soda can. After he collects the leaking creampie into the champagne glass just as Jieun instructs, she gives her best shot at taking his cock down her throat.

The wildness of the situation keeps you erect, but you leave to let the next person in line go. You can’t help but continue stroking yourself to the decadence. At this point, you find the social nature of humans takes over as a few teams form.

The blue-haired guy must have extolled the virtues of Jieun’s feet to the eager #4, the perverse #7. If he were a landlord, he’d probably have sex dungeons in his properties because he’s the most brazen, fucking her feet, licking up her sweat, turning bundles of her drenched clothes into improv restraints.

You and the first guy, ends of the range, take turns ruining her innocent face with gloopy white paint, but then the tenth joins you, and Jieun licks her lips.

“Jieun, please, can I cum now?”

“Tsk, hah I’ve been waiting for you,” she says breathily as a tag-team becomes less patient taking turns inside of her pussy. They decide to lie prone next to each other, and Jieun hops back and forth while keeping her mouth on #10’s trembling cock the whole time.

You know when the patient man explodes because immediately, Jieun’s mouth overflows with seed. She spews up half of whatever he sends down there, but the instinct causes her mouth to seize up and milk even more cum from him. A rain of tears from her eyes as it seems like his orgasm lasts forever. Her jaw locks open because his flood does not stop until the rainbow appears—you’re indoors.

One of the tag-team members, number 6 who has long, flowing hair like a surfer, ends up carrying her inert figure to a chair. She lays over the armrests as her petite tits hang, nipples firm. You love the way her faultless face is filled with faults. Wet hair sticks to her cheeks, lashes out of order, more of 10’s unending seed that she gags up. She tries her hardest to swallow it down but is interrupted, spitting globs of white more out when the presumed surfer slams his way into her pussy with an impressive amount of stamina.

Jieun moans and describes the intensity of the pounding in less elegant words: “Fucking, pussy, fuck, so much,” but then her words are interrupted by a pull of her hair, a ponytail in professor number 2’s hands, and that man shoves his dick in her mouth, using the tail as a handle. Though the oldest, he couldn’t be a day over fifty, as his thrusts are just as brutal as #6’s.

With no relent, cock still in mouth and pussy, a curious finger teases at her asshole. The stout man says to the tired guy, “What do you think would split her open more? My thickness? Or your length?”

Louder moans of anticipation vibrate the cock in her mouth, and even louder still when the finger pushes in after a generous amount of lube. It’s the first time you see life in number 9’s eyes. “Nah, I know she’ll love the way my tip hits her tummy, isn’t that right?”

“Mhm,” Jieun moans around the professor’s cock.

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

The surfer pulls Jieun’s head back as she drags her tongue along the underside of the professor’s shaft in her throat’s exit. “I’m fucking cumming!” He adds spanks to her pert ass and floods her pussy, adding to the waterfall of cum that flows from between the throbbing lips. He lies down with his limbs splayed on a random blanket on the floor.

A couple of guys help her spread her legs apart further while they hang off the chair. Of course, the eight-guy is one of them, nurturing her heel in his mouth. The thick and the long swap back and forth, slapping their cocks between her cheeks. As he rubs his girth along her used slit, number 3 holds tight to the glass of semen while the long number 9 (maybe that represents the number of inches of his dick) takes more time to poke his tip at her asshole.

But then number 5 interjects with his big hands and slaps her sore, throbbing cunt. Cum splashes out onto sheets on the floor while her lips throb and swell. (Diligent Mr. 3 makes sure the cum doesn’t go to waste, collecting it into the champagne flute, half-full of thick white breeding juice, used for anything but.) #5 continues hitting and hitting, and more people join in on the fun, hands crudely cupping and striking the folds to make her drool and her eyes roll back into her head.

“Oh fuck!”

“You think she’s gonna cum?” you ask number 1, sitting in a chair next to you, also jerking off.

“I think she’s cum plenty of times. Haven’t you been hearing the way she’s whimpering? And her toes? I bet blue hair over here is loving it.”

He is indeed loving it—with his tongue.

“I guess,” you say. “Why is no one using names? The numbers are pretty confusing.”

The youngest stops jerking off for a moment. “Well, duh, look at her. She’s getting absolutely railed in every hole. One of the most loved celebrities, one of the kindest. Used as a toy. No, I don’t think she needs names.”

Gagged-out moans harmonize with a myriad of deep grunts, shouts of joy and release.

“She needs cock.”

What she needs, she’s provided in spades.

Thick cocks and long cocks ram into her asshole from left and right, and soon her rear entrance which started the night tight and puckering, is loose and relaxed and as filled to the brim as her other holes. And just as soon, she is no longer on the chair, but stomach-first on another mattress on the floor again. This is where number 6 jumps in and slides underneath her limping body.

You make eye contact with Jieun, unsure if she’s okay.

She’s more than fine: she’s an excited nine to his number 6, laying atop his chest. While the long-haired man becomes disheveled eating Jieun’s pussy without shame nor cleanliness, raring number 4 returns to dip his cock into her equally seedy asshole. Finding the position uncomfortable (for them since her comfort is secondary), they stand up. With the tie that’s long since fallen off, the tallest number 11 helps out by holding her hands up and knotting them together. The upright position is perfect so that a man behind and a man in front can fuck her at the same time. All the while, Jieun has to be on her toes if she doesn’t want to be impaled—she relaxes her feet. Two cocks spear into her with gravity, and both hold her by the hips to bob her body up and down.

Since man can’t fly to fuck her face, the lot of them bring her to the floor. On her side, her last useful hole, tongue and all, is marked for use by the number 11. As the tallest, it’s difficult for his cock to reach when he’s on his knees, so he has to bend over to force his way in Jieun’s receptive mouth.

Life goes on for a long time, and the night passes like entire spans of years in your mind. On occasion, you’ll interpose, embed your shaft into the mix of her swirling tongue or clamping asshole, but it’s hard to tell when is when and who is who, barely even yourself One by one, these dominoes fall, and men become more patient when they’re weary. No man has less than four orgasms today, you reckon. But she keeps going, a perky little nympho, when it’s only you and her against the wall—well, it’s more just her, her hands flat as her back arches and her legs split to accommodate you between her loving cunt lips. When Jieun reverses her ass up against you, looking back with a deadly smirk, this time you pull out at your peak and cover her asscheeks in semen. Her hands rub her backside and smear the stickiness, though you remember to collect a good amount of it yourself. Your hands make an awkward bowl as you return to your seat. On the way, you bow to #3, gasping for breath, and deposit your contribution.

The champagne glass is now two-thirds full.

“Get in line.” You can tell the verve has disappeared from her tone; it’s all channeled in her body instead. This is an arduous marathon—and this is the final dash. Jieun sits against the wall, lifts her legs, and spreads them, patting her cream-soaked pussy. “Who’s up first?”

Everyone is sweaty. Everyone is drunk. Everyone has less than a tenth of the energy they started with, definitely less than a tenth of their cum. But Jieun doesn’t care, does she?

She’s here to get dicked down until the world’s over.

Since everyone is at least a bit drunk and unsure how to order yourselves, number 1 takes his spot. The rest of you fall behind in your natural order according to your lanyards. The line isn’t straight, curling up into a semi-circle so that everyone can watch. The last in line, you sit on the wall similarly to Jieun. Some stand like the tanned man in front of you; however, most take the time to recuperate.

The young-faced guy brushes Jieun’s hair between his digits while his dick returns to full mast. Her eyes are unfocused, looking off at nowhere, though you believe it catches yours for a split second. He doesn’t seem to mind since it makes her fatigued mouth drool. As he places his shaft across her lips, the most effort Jieun can put in is frothing up the spit and slobbering all over the length. There is no hint of purity left on her face. She is corrupt through and through. Jieun grabs onto his cock and uses it to clean the cum on her face that hasn’t dried yet. A deviant mix of other men’s semen and her saliva—no one cares anymore. Her hands tug and swirl like her tongue around his tip, around the rod to polish it of any fluids, and when her tongue reaches the base of his shaft, semen showers her face. The familiar sight by now isn’t any less novel nor arousing; a sweet face like hers should not look so good, does look so good.

His head sags, and he walks toward you, finding rest against the wall. “What a fucking crazy night.”

“What time is it even?” you ask.

“No clue. Look at number five. Even he wouldn’t know, since that watch face is definitely stained now.”

The two of you laugh while number two steps up.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, Jieun.”

You realize you have yet to hear the more mature gentleman speak yet his voice suits his serious countenance. Despite his silence, he has been just as enthusiastic throughout the night, his hands snaking onto her body whenever they can. Right now, they massage her shoulders in a previously unbeknownst affection.

“I never thought a sweet student like you would ever end up as such a naughty whore.”

Those words from his mouth hit you like thunder. You can’t imagine what it’s like in Jieun’s position, the words adding on to the mass of his dick hitting her cheeks with force. She yelps and she’s still unfocused. But unlike the first, he does not appreciate the laggard reactions, the laziness of her lips. So instead of just cock, a blunt strike to her other cheek. He repeats until Jieun opens her eyes more, putting more effort into kissing the shaft lovingly. Still, it isn’t enough, so he gets an idea. Even if she’s more diligent in sipping the spit that bubbles on the shaft, it gives him the impetus to spit on her face too.

“That’s right, fucking take it,” he says, pistoning into her mouth deeper, with more force, more slaps, and degrading words of “fuckdoll” and “cocksleeve”. The words slur into a huge moan that’s more like a shout.

Though Jieun tries to jerk him off onto her face as well, he plows into her until his very end. “Yes, sir! Cover my face! Please!” She sticks her tongue out, but it gets more on her chin, dripping down to her bare chest between her tits. Like a mindless bimbo, she tries to lick the cum from her breasts and collects as much of her bosom between her elbows. It’s cute to see her try but she’s just not built for that.

The shortest guy with his nice watch scratches his head and waves politely to the finished gentleman, cum glass in the other hand. “Really, going for the mouth? It’s certainly not bad, but that asshole is still so fucking tight, no matter how much we abuse it.”

He sits down and places Jieun into his lap. She bends back into the wall as the wide round tip pokes at her rear entrance. “Ahh, lube!”

“Look at all the cream dripping, bitch. I know I should collect for you to guzzle down later, but I’m gonna need some for myself.” He coats his hefty erection using the cream. “That’s probably all that a fucktoy like you needs to take a thick dick like this, isn’t it?”

She whimpers, whines from her lungs when he shoves his way inside, and when he pulls out the whole way, the wrinkled hole doesn’t just stop gripping silently, it pops out.

“Fuck, someone, pass me the lube!”

Sitting next to you, number 1 looks at you and chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course.”

Number 10 finds the big bottle of slippery lube and hands it over to #3 who applies a liberal amount on his shaft. He tenses up his neck muscles to prepare himself for her consummate tightness. As he ramps up his burrowing pace, he wipes up cum from her face to add to the glass, the creamy-white drink rising like the tides.

“Hey, it isn’t your turn,” the landlord says, cross-legged on the floor, while the slightly dorky guy palms his flaccid dick inches away from Jieun’s face writhing in all-consuming anal pleasure.

“Number 3, do you mind?”

He’s too busy grunting at the tautness of Jieun’s anal passage around his girth.

“And we know Jieun doesn’t mind so…”

Only now have you noticed: “What happened to your glasses?”

“They got covered in spit somehow. Whatever, I don’t need to see. I’m here for the feeling anyway.”

A naughty grin spreads on 10’s face, not as naughty as when he fucks Jieun’s head into the wall. If thickness in her ass didn’t make her dumb with dick, then every skull-pounding knock into the surface must be deleting her thoughts until bliss alone remains. However, the resolute man does not let temptation overtake him. You remember him telling you about how he edged for so long, how it’s his favorite thing to do. So it holds up when he clenches his fists tight as Jieun’s grasping mouth is a lock around his shaft and he has to pull out his sensitive member delicately. As if she’s some wild beast of sex to be mindful around, it’s a fair thought. His dick plops out, and he gets back in line.

“Wait, you should go to the back,” #11 says.

“I didn’t even finish yet.”

“That’s your choice.”

“Hey.” Ten-guy turns to you. “Can I jump you in line?”

“Sure, whatever.”

You don’t mind holding back, basking in the absurd sight of the thick cock fitting in such a tiny butt. But number 3 makes it work, makes her work, lifting and dropping her entire frame. It’s not so much a drop as it is a languid sink into his girth, and in that sink, that unyielding hole working the shaft inside, a swift stun of his muscles. His orgasmic convulsions would be a ridiculous pantomime if her asshole weren’t sopping with milky seed. He shoots so much in her ass that he’d find a way to breed her through. As ridiculous as it sounds, the semen seems to permeate her body.

Though dizzy, he’s sure to collect the cum that spumes out of her bleary asshole, bubbles that drip and concoct a new effervescent drink in the champagne glass. Instead of finding repose, he stays by Jieun’s side, and you know he’ll gather all the load, whether it’s on her bare body or in any of her holes (if she doesn’t swallow the cum up.)

“I’ll move back to eight,” number 4 says.

“Wow,” number 5 says. “Weren’t you all impatient?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to finish with my boys.”

You never thought the antsy, handsome man would find a rapport with strangers, but anything can happen in a weird place like this. The instant the fifth guy has the opportunity, his fingers are on Jieun. He earns great reward from the touch alone, from a massage of her back to a tease between her legs. But in less gentle touches, he attains a higher high. Nails scratching her back. The outline of his ample hands on her ass. He slows down his erotic, unwarranted punishment with his grip on her butt firm. Carrying her up to the wall, he kisses Jieun’s neck while she wraps her legs around his sturdy waist.

She leans her head back, hitting the wall, and he steps forward, squaring her posture up against the surface. “Come on, fuck me again, give me, cum me. Fuck, yes.” Jieun sounds like she drank the most despite how her only drink is semen. But no, she’s cock-drunk, she’s high on cum, and she moans and whines through every insertion. Her performance is killer because with how much #5 tries to hold back his release by clawing into her, her sultry stare, her active hips lures his erection to palpitate in its rapture.

Mr. Surfer gives Mr. 5 no time to breathe, peeling her pussy from the still-gushing rod and fucking her against the wall himself. Instead of carrying Jieun, number 6 holds her hair so that she stands with her back flat. It’s a technique he’s happy to use again; he loves how she whines when she needs to stand on her tiptoes if she doesn’t want to just fall into dick.

So she doesn’t even try. “Hmmn!” Jieun cries as the length buries into her slit by gravity’s pull. This time, instead of making her bounce, he squats—that must take a lot of core strength—and spreads Jieun’s legs apart. Eventually, he lies down on the floor while her feet continue to drift away until she is at an obtuse angle. Each up and down, more of number 5’s semen (though you suspect she’s adding her own creamy nectar) layers white on his shaft. The layer collects and settles in a sloppy ring whenever she lowers her pussy to the base of his shaft. With how much fluid there is, you wouldn’t realize his orgasm if his hands weren’t behind his head, grasping at invisible straws while he growls. The sticky wetness builds up, and more spills from her cunt’s folds as she twists, uncaring for his sensitivity. He peels her off his cock, a palindromic end, before swimming away woozy.

Jieun is a flower in a field of oxen. Trampled and brought low, the flower is prettier than ever. Halfway through the line, and she’s still singing, albeit songs of lust, chants of pleading for more sex, more dick. You have to wait for now, but this is the beauty most worth the wait. You stroke yourself still, both hands working up and down. Your buddy next to you is back at it too, somehow.

The line is a bit of a jumble at this point since the trio of model #4, landlord #7, and blue-haired #8 all go up to her at once, but the ninth man waits his turn by lying with all his limp limbs splayed apart.

“Stand for me, will you?” the model says, and the other two offer their hands to pull her up.

This time, number 4 is the one with his back on the wall, while Jieun faces away from him. It’s a perfect angle for him to thrust his erection between the gap of her thighs. His tip appears and disappears as he quickly gets into pace with the help of Jieun adding saliva with her hands. (You’re reminded of his earlier appetite.) Number 7 helps by reaching for that bottle of lube and handing it to her. She applies it not only between her legs but on her feet when the two other men lie down in front of her. While Mr. Landlord lays there unsure of what to do, number 8 embarks on licking every part of Jieun’s left foot, spreading the watery lubricant. Once it’s wet enough for him, he smiles at his fellow man recumbent by his side; the smile grows as Jieun swaps between pleasuring the left and right dicks with her feet. For each member, her toes curl around the head, they spread apart and twist, then she slides the soles of her feet deftly up and down the shaft. This is all while the model partakes in her silky smooth leg flesh, crammed between her legs that keep on shifting so that her feet can continue to jerk off the two prone men.

“Who wants to cum first, hm?” Jieun asks.

But the question is rendered moot when the thighfuck concludes in a surprising bang.

“Oh, fuck, what a mess. Mm, just how I like it.”

The trajectories of #4’s semen are impressive, landing all the way between #7 and #8’s heads. Neither of them are too nonplussed about it, even as his emissions become more erratic since Jieun doesn’t stop stroking cock with her feet. When the model is complete in his work, his hardness abating, he lowers Jieun onto her ass. In this stance, she can finally use both feet at the same time. Though they love sweat on her brow, the focus in her eyes as she attempts to make the two simultaneously burst, the true foot-fetishist understands what’ll make him pop the hardest: “Bring both feet over here.”

Jieun complies, and the landlord’s boner is in stasis while she wraps her feet around his dick. She tightens, rolls, and coils her feet, the left up and the right down. You can’t compare orgasms anymore with how many you’ve witnessed, yet you’re sure the volume of his groans when he contorts in utter bliss can wake up the entire building of dreary office workers—right, you can only guess at this point, but it might be sleeping hours for even the most tortured souls. Her feet covered in sticky cum, she gives #7 the same treatment, and he cums even faster after everything he’s been through.

Number 9 takes his spot somewhat reluctantly; you’re surprised he’s awake, even more surprised at the state of his erection. Still writhing, still longer than everyone else. It’s so long that when he gets on top of her, spreads her legs apart in a mating press, you can see its length poke out of her midriff as a bump. He looks tired, yet you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the last one out of the gathering place. You might know the least about the guy. If you had to guess, he’s an office worker just like you, just trying to get out of the rat race.

That’ll probably tide him over for a while, especially as he transfers his cock from her weeping slit to the crinkling ring of her ass. Maybe his girth isn’t as hard to handle, maybe she’s provided more natural lube this time, but he lunges in with as much concern as every other action he’s taken. To be fair, he bottoms out, and she screams all the same. Looking ready to pass out as ever, he parts her legs the furthest he can and slams into her with an astounding speed.

While the endowed ninth is fucking her ass, the tallest man approaches her.

Seated, his dick in a firm fist, number 10 looks up as he says to number 11, “Hey, what happened to the order?”

“Bah, whatever. And you wanted to hold it in.”

Ten-dude scoffs. #11 pins her arms to the wall and jerks off onto her face. She tries to lick though he chokes her neck and holds her back. Despite the rough treatment, despite the euphoric pain of breadth in her asshole, Jieun keeps trying. Her tongue is weak, and her head can’t push far enough past the eleventh man’s hold.

"This is all I have left. Enjoy it slut.”

It gets in her eyes, dribbles down her button nose to her lips, and her tongue finally receives its payload. Jieun can’t rest, however (not that she ever had a chance nor want to); a low moan rattles her, and she moans as well. #9 stops his assault and keeps his dick fully planted in her ass, pumping seed after seed into her system—maybe it’ll join the rest of the swallowed cum in her tummy if he shoves deep enough. The moan becomes tired respiration. He looks and weakly smiles at you.

Naturally, he’s still hard.

Almost feels like an insult by now.

Most of the crowd has dispersed, finding mattresses or chairs in the great hall to rest in. Edging number 10 finally gets his turn. He pauses a moment to enjoy the perfection of a cum-drenched naked Jieun, slack against the wall.

“There’s so much cum everywhere. On your face. In the cup. Fuck, Jieun, I love it.”

“I know you do but…” The sweetness in her voice is cloying. Must be the sticky mess in her throat. “I bet you have even more for me?”

“Even more for you? I’ve been watching your holes get wrecked all night, just sampling here and there. There was that first time I filled your throat, but I think this time… this time I’m gonna give you”

“You better follow through—Mmrph!”

After he bucks his hips, drives his member towards her lips, he touches himself at a frantic rhythm. Jieun’s soggy lips suck and pucker like a lollipop around his head. Her hands aren’t idle either, joining his hands, holding his waist closer, caressing his sack. “That’s right, ahhh, I’m gonna, ahh, follow through, god!”

The nerdy guy tries his hardest to buck his hips forward; Jieun denies him the chance to flood her throat directly this time, keeping her lips glued to his cock’s tip. His whole body twitches, and he nearly slumps over with each hot pulsation of cum. The only thing keeping him up is her hold on his waist, though that weakens as well because of how much semen enters her mouth—her cheeks are puffed up like a squirrel. She swigs down half of it without a single tear (a single new teardrop, at least.)

#1 gives you a salute when you walk towards her.

“Hey, cutiepie.” Jieun purrs.

“I never thought this"—gesture around to the pile of men, all drained of their seed—"would ever happen with you noona.”

“You’ll be surprised what people like. I’m just lucky to have the means to pull it off?”

“You’re lucky? I should be thanking you.”

“If you wanna thank me, give me the last drops in your balls.” Jieun grasps them.

You, the twelfth and final. The end of a pervert’s dozen. Your being is summarized in that grasp, placid.

There isn’t much left of you, not much of a climb to your final hurrah. She lazily laps at your half-hardness and that’s all she needs to coax your seed out. You’re not even the first to cum in her mouth, as she’s kept half of #10’s load in her cheeks. Always the bridesmaid. No matter. It’s a slovenly mix of different gene pools and just like the tenth man, you can tell so badly does Jieun want to swallow your load; however, she spits it back out into the champagne flute, a vulgar cocktail. She doesn’t look much different from the cup, a pure receptacle for fluids, an exemplary objectification. Still, even as the crowd chills down, searching for inner repose, they return to her body. They slap her ass, grope her tits, smack her pussy bright, throw her around, and twist her limbs like a toy. No, there’s no point arguing for things like personhood in this situation. But you say nonetheless, “Thank, thank you, noona.” Your last drops, you let dribble directly into the mix.

Jieun ensures that she’s glanced at all dozen of you as she raises the glass. Everyone else is lounging back in their chairs, watching her performance like it’s any other stage, so you return to your soft throne.

“I don’t think you boys understand how much I love the taste of cum.” A smirk, a skimming tongue around the edge of the brimming glass, then a first sip so that none of it spills. Her hands are back on her crotch, and at once, Jieun swills the entire glass. She gurgles it, swishes the glut of semen around, cheeks puffing up, and shows off her clean tongue while she makes herself cum with her fingers. As amazing as the view is, standing ovation-worthy (and a few guys actually do it), there’s no way you can get your dick hard again today. Close your eyes as you lie back in the chair.

You would’ve asked when this was supposed to end, but exhaustion takes over.

The night lasts till the day, till no man is left standing. How do you know? Because you wake up with dried fluids surrounding you, and Jieun is still riding number 9’s length in his half-sleep. He tries his hardest to hold her hips, to slow her pace, but she cannot bring herself to slow down. She holds her hair up in a ponytail behind her.

Stretch and get up. Without words, when you stand next to her, Jieun sucks your morning wood clean. #9 flashes a weak smile and a lifeless thumbs up.

You know not another man’s name in the group but you feel like you’ve made eleven comrades today, smiling back at him before you focus back on Jieun who sheds tears gagging on your unleashed load in her clammy throat. Yes, you are one man in a sea of many lucky men; it makes you no less fortunate.

People leave one at a time—it’s 5 am. and only the guards and the janitors see people exit the room into the office skyscraper. You dress up into your navy-blue suit again. Jieun is still giving head; you give her a peace sign, and she returns with a heart. When you finally walk out of the reception hall, out of the building, you take a deep sigh of the summer air. Your spent dick is ready for more sleep, in a proper bed this time, but you’re refreshed as you’ve never been before.

You receive an email at home:

Sorry!

It’s Jieun. I forgot to mention. Not only was that a celebration, but that was also a test. In fact, everyone passed with flying colors. Whenever you feel like it, you can call me again and I’ll be down to fuck. Though I’d love another fun time like that again, I doubt you’d mind if next time was just us two, would you, cutie-pie? Here’s my number….

Day 17, Shower Sex (Yujin)

Tiptoes. You’ve done this many times. If you wanted to rob a bank vault or the Smithsonian, you already had the stealth skill set. It’s getting too familiar at this point, tedious.

Yujin is the only one who leaves the bathroom door unlocked.

A bunny smile and half-moon eyes drown in not enough water to drown a man lying in a puddle. Her face is more serious, intensely fixed on the filling felicity. No kisses—not enough time. She bends forward and splits her legs. Feet a bit more than shoulder’s width apart on the sodden floor.

You split her further, stretch her, unfurl the pressure in her tummy, add pressure of your own. Your hands wandering sense the tingling heat suffuse her insides.

“You know how hard it is for me to meet you anymore?” A primal instinct makes you growl, takes you over. The growl passes misted air and manifold drops like rain.

Yujin’s hands hold onto the hazy glass door. Though flat, they hold on like she might sink into you so unabashedly that you’ll never let her live it down.

Too late.

“You should introduce me to some of your group members.” You don’t let this sound like a playful tease—it’s an offer you’ve legitimately considered.

“Oppa!” Her last word, you’re certain. Tiny, adorable squeaks and mewls from here on.

Water splashes from her milky back onto your chest. More splashing sounds. The cramped bathroom resonates in that proof of pleasure. In that clap, clap.

Because of her unreasonable tension, you grip onto her sides. Rough fingers pull her body, bounce it around such that her soggy hair sways to and fro. No, that doesn’t help the tension, only embroils your capricious mind. The only relief is a torrent to rival the shower which smoothens the cycle. Even as the water washes her natural coating anyway, more replaces it with every slick insertion.

“I’m kidding. All I need is this.” Your grip lowers. One’s a cheeky massage, the other between her thighs, then higher up.

Up until a most perceptive nub between folds, even the slightest motion on it makes her knees buckle. Yujin whines.

“But they are right outside. You better keep quiet.” You make the command difficult for her to follow—not that she doesn’t try, a hand over her mouth. Now only one arm braces her to the glass. Is that the shower’s water? Sweat is just as reasonable for the droplets that fingers trace given your relentlessness. “Don’t wanna let them know you brought your friend into the dorm.”

Despite the covering hand, more moans slip. Grab Yujin’s hand on the door, pull it behind her back, push her up to that door, add your hand to her mouth to quiet and balance her—shove fast, pluck slowly—no rest while the water’s hot. What was supposed to be a hand on her mouth becomes a hand in her mouth: she sucks your fingertips, whole digits, gags. That’s fine; the choked noises aren’t as loud as her groaning.

“What if she heard you? I saw the flirting. Wasn’t just for the camera. Would she be jealous?”

Yujin looks back at you. She knows exactly what you’re talking about, her eyebrows raised in fluster. It turns into a snarl, a request for you to shut up and just pay attention. Finish what you started. Water continues to hit the floor, splash, wash nothing in particular.

The only thing getting washed is her insides. Scrape by walls.

“Mmrfh.“ You make the tortured sound when she clamps down. No surprise if she can control that at least a bit—she knows her body well. "Fine.”

To keep away from monotony, even in these few minutes that you have with her, you spin her. Back to the wall. Yujin is flexible enough for you to lift her right leg up to her shoulder. You’re sure she can balance on her own, but you give her support at her crotch. The support pierces over and over. You keep your eye contact fierce but the truth is that shower thoughts cloud your mind even while your lust takes over the rest of you. A brain-body paradox clashes judgment of fiery truth and fluid vagueness. A tighter grasp on her wrist leads to a tighter grasp of other parts. You can use these thoughts to make you last one moment longer. The fog of who you are emerges. You’re a whole person, reduced to sex, engaging in the reduction happily. Are you a manager? An idol yourself? A childhood friend? Who cares. Every day, you get to fuck a hot idol. Weak introspection punctuated by the breaking of very thought to hormonal inevitability—Here to get flesh wet. Here to unload on pretty girl. Here today… gone tomorrow.

A stream down straight paths onto faces. Kneeling, Yujin sticks her pink tongue out and gets water in her mouth. All you need to spike your pleasure is the tip of it on your tip. Eager lips wrap: she wants other substances in her mouth.

“Trust me, this cream’s going to make your skin look great too, I promise.” It’s a paltry cliche, but that’s all she needs to let go, let you let go. Like a plane in a thunderstorm, you’re struck—you’re sure the showerhead is fine and attached to no mains. The unseen blow liquifies you the same. A straight line from her forehead to her chin as you lay the shots from beneath her mouth. Lines become an abstracted tree with running, dripping branches of white. As the shower drizzles your face, you drizzle hers.

“Th-thank you.”

Spank her. “Good luck with the new debut.”

Day 18, Hunter/Prey (Nako)

“Hide and seek” is the right way to put it for the first ten minutes, when the two of you are actually playing the game. Nako does a good job of hiding—the house was too big for two people, and she’s the most fun-size woman you know—and relishes finding a good spot, either one you’ve overlooked or one that’s truly hidden. The best ones are outdoors in your backyard that’s more like a personal park.

But for the next hour after that, “hide and seek” is too juvenile a name.

No, after the first ten minutes of innocent fun, Nako stops trying to hide as hard.

And what you’re doing can’t really be called seeking.

It never started as such a raw, animalistic act. Rather, it was simple: she yelped the first time you caught her by surprise in a wardrobe. “Found you.” You didn’t mean to say it that loud nor menacingly, but Nako looked adorable when she curled into a ball, whimpering and pouting that you gave her such a mean scare. So you did it again. She hid behind the pot of the shrouding rubber plant in your office, and you missed Nako the first time. But the second time you heard noises. Slick noises, squelchy wet noises—was she even trying to hide? Nako’s back faced you, and she folded up again, knees to her chest. This time, instead of words, you grabbed her with a big bear hug. Instead of a yelp, a mewl. She was half a pointer and middle finger deep.

“You still wanna play?”

Her continued self-pleasure answered that. You made out with her, hands in her hair. You had to bend far to kiss her properly, so she did what she often does—climbed up your legs so that you could carry her while your lips mesh. With one hand supporting her ass, the other around her neck, you carried her to the bed… and started another round. “Really?” Nako asked. She refused to play, harrumphed with arms crossed, and sat there on the mattress, giving her best seductive glare. But she was always far too cute for that.

You left the bedroom, faced the wall, and counted to ten. But you heard no noises, and at “one,” she was still sitting there, pulling up her oversized tee to entice you. A bare shaved innie. Temptations would not stray you from the routine of the game. You grabbed her thin wrist. “One more round.”

She was confused why you were so serious, though this time, she hid, ran somewhere when you counted to ten. You found her quickly underneath the living room sofa. Nako stuck her tongue out, “ha!” but tight there, against the front window, you tugged off her t-shirt and bred her. Pretty little pussy split apart, and she was pawing at anything to avoid losing all senses but touch—an expanding, reaming, all-filling touch that evolved to warmth in her womb. From then on, you were ravenous when you caught her, rabid and frothing at the mouth to ruin the little kitten with your cum.

Nako is not the only animal after all.

Now, all the lights are off. You can play like this in the daytime too with the blackout shades, but you work better as a nocturnal predator. Or at least it fits the mood better. Nako is weary from her work. When she asks you for a game of hide and seek at midnight, it doesn’t make sense at first; however, you understand it isn’t even a game of hide and seek anymore. She can’t hide anymore. She has to—

“Run, kitty, run.”

And Nako storms out of the bathroom. Motion sensor night lights like tripwire guide you on your chase. The pitter-patter of small feet down endless hallways. Stomp your way through your house. Bang the walls. It’s a message: be as afraid as you should be. You can easily outrun her—that’s not the point. Because no matter how many rooms she enters and exits, the kitchens and the library and the guest bedrooms, she can’t run in circles forever. Eventually, she hits a dead-end, too hopped up on adrenaline to bypass the one-way walk-in closet.

You used to point a pretend gun or say something like “Gotcha.” However, that leaves too much time for her to think, breaks her out of the mindset that she’s prey about to be eaten up. The sweat does not have time to drip down her back before your hands are on her dress. Nako has plenty more in this very closet. She chose one she wouldn’t miss so that you don’t feel bad when you tear it off judiciously. Bra nor panties underneath allow her entire raw body for the taking.

She screams for her life.

This ending is the same as many others. Kiss her, and she turns away. She scratches you; you scratch her back. “No” doesn’t mean “no” anymore—only her safeword does that. She cries the denial with true tears, pinned down against the floor. And when she struggles to pull away from your grasp, she’s happy that you exact revenge in her walls. Pound her. Without warning, with reckless abandon, your cock pierces her inside. You are a predator beast who gives no quarter. Bruising lips’ suction on her neck keeps its force as you kiss your way down her collarbone, her perky, surprising tits. It’s the contrast with her minute frame that makes her breasts so delectable to handle, to swirl your tongue around, to nuzzle on nipples. All the while your shaft slams down onto her body on the floor.

Spread her legs apart. Nako wants to look away, can’t look away at the fury in your face. You hold her feet high up, lift her ass, and incline her for your length to hit as hard as possible in her innermost sensitive spots. Growls from your mouth speckle her soft squeals between loud “no’s” repeated. The hidden folds of her pussy reveal themselves whenever you unsheathe, though that same alluring sight betrays you as you’re distracted for a blink of an eye, and she’s gone, sliding back deftly before she dashes away.

“Good one, kitten!” You walk out of the closet, out of the bedroom. She must have run far, fast. Nako is a ball of energy, managing that kind of speed after you use her body thoroughly.

“I won’t, I won’t let you catch me!” But the shout lets you locate her.

She’s headed to the backyard.

Unfortunately for her, the hills behind your house span many acres—and it’s all yours.

Sprint out of the house. You remember to bring a blanket with you.

Owls hoot, crickets chirp, and the moon threads through the sparse trees. The susurration could be the wind as much as it is Nako. Despite all the area to cover in your search, you have an advantage: She won’t go past the fences because she wants to be found, doesn’t want to be kept waiting.

There are trails behind your house that the two of you have been mapping ever since she moved in. Signs staked into the ground, markers on the trees. Nako would not concede so easily by hiding on one of these beaten paths.

You search outside-in with a spiral beginning at the limits of your property, zigzags off your marked trails. She knows this place as well as you do

Only one place she could be. Where the stars lay on the earth, reflected on water, you find a petite nude shadow by the stream’s bank. Audible fear in her whimpers. Even Nako could hop over the skinny river, but she’s backed up. Cornered again. The chase is over.

You get close enough to hear the racing heartbeat, to smell the pheromones. Fear that blends sweetly with arousal. Throw the blanket onto the grass. Nako gets on her knees without an order needed.

“Bad. Bad, bad, bad kitten.” Slap her with your cock. “Tell me, can you run now?”

Her slit is more soaked than the flowing water behind her. Regular sex, you need lube. Here in the stark open, in the pulse-rendering, she has more wetness than you. What a way to relax. Starlight shines in the trails of her juices between her legs. Beautiful. Like stains and spit and tears. She touches herself while you fuck her face. You bend her all the way back, force her onto her back again as you mount on top of her chest in complete dominance of your quarry. Your cock hits her throat and elicits endless spit.

Whenever you feel your orgasm near, you pull out of her delicious mouth and reach back to her pussy. Still, she can’t breathe properly when you’re sitting on top, much bigger than her. It’s a destruction of your prize as you eat her alive, your fingers punitive inside her slick folds. It makes her desperate hum on your dick even better.

A deer frolics in the distance. A cloud hangs lonely and wispy in the air, way above. A howling wind. These are all part of the natural order, like how your cum must naturally bathe her throat with its gluey warmth. So you push and push, and Nako touches herself with more and more heat. The heat that builds up in her tiny body can’t last long inside of it; it must come out as screams, as an outburst of quivers, and though your body has more weight to it, you fall prey to the ending all the same.

You used to warn her when you burst, but an adorable little animal like Nako for the taking gets no more than a primitive grunt.

Around the clench of her choking passage, your semen falls with the natural order of things. A bare Nako in the moonlight coughs up cum onto your shaft.

You flop onto the blanket next to her and stare at the dusk.

“What happened to relaxing?” you ask.

Nako giggles. “That was a relaxing thing.”

“Running?”

“Mhm.”

“Wait, look at me.”

She turns her head with big eyes that could outshine the moon. Nako opens her mouth in realization. “Ha. Of course, I swallowed it all.”

“Good kitten.” You pat her head. “Next time, I’m not letting you get away from me so easily.”

Day 19, Daddy Kink (Heejin)

The sun hits one person dead-on in the open hallway. One becomes two.

All that is strange begins in the small details and claws its way outwards.

You’re not significantly older than her, but she’s always had a peculiar nickname for you ever since she moved in alone. She’s a talented, incredibly capable girl. When you come home from work, she’s always at the park on the way doing something new. Drawing, exercising, dancing, and singing in public without care. Yet she balls up into a different person standing next to you—she becomes little.

“Hi, daddy,” Heejin says as she takes your hand meekly. To be fair, you could act the part: you’ve visited her house and cooked and cleaned and helped her fall asleep with a story. It’s the same each time her fingers interlock with yours. Every bouncing ounce of energy becomes jitters in her grip, goosebumps on the back of her hand when you brush it.

You go on these silly dates with her all the time. They don’t count. A girl like Heejin is far out of your league. Playdates, she calls them, and you go along with it. Both of you are too old for swings and slides; neither of you cares.

“Happy birthday, princess.” You don’t know how you got to this point. Or more accurately, you don’t know how you’re still here, calling her that. She’s just your friend. Stepdaughter might even be a more accurate term. Either way, that’s how you retaliate to her strange pet name for you. You need to, lest depravity blackens the mind.

She smiles. Is it much retaliation at all? Furthermore, who cares? Her smile is worth more than any revenge. “Stop looking into space like that, will you? Besides, silly, my birthday is tomorrow. Did you really forget?”

“No, I’m sorry, Heekie. I’m gonna be busy tomorrow, and I wanted to go out with you today.”

“Aww, thank you.” Heejin pecks your cheek. She pouts. “I want to be mad at you but you’re always such a thoughtful daddy anyway.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧

After the riverside picnic, you head straight to bed. It was a good day, but naturally, you’re disappointed. You really would have done it this time, confessed at the bridge. You had the roses to match her cheeks and everything. Couldn’t even get one step in before backing up. How much did she know? Because when you stopped, Heejin ran up to you and gave a tight hug to the tune of bystanders muttering about puppy love. Felt like it was your birthday.

Didn’t deserve it. Though your eyelids may fall and a clear mind dims to sleep, your insecurities are too slow to wash away. There’s no way she doesn’t know what she’s doing to your heart. Altering its common pace with such little words and little actions must be premeditated. It makes you overthinking; overthinking makes you overthink. Thoughts fly over and crash the mind—you’re back where you’re started.

Then, with the Tuesday sunlight, disappointment disappears and is replaced by confusion.

Heejin is in your bed. Only this thought remains when you wake up. What is she doing in your bed?

What is she doing cuddling you?

“Daddy. Don’t go. Please.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve slept together, and she was often clingy when you were awake; however, these two never intermingled.

You carry her from your apartment to hers—use her spare key, nudge the door with your elbow. How she manages to sleep through this is as much a miracle as her beauty. As you lay her down on the bed, you give her a taste of her own medicine, a kiss on her forehead. You leave gingerly, quietly, but don’t miss the squeal.

After getting ready for work, ironed dress shirt and pants, you stop by Heejin’s place one more time for a proper birthday greeting. Knock on the door. Nothing. Send her a text. Same nothing. You don’t want to be overbearing, but you give her a call too.

Knock, knock, knock. “Heejin! Are you okay?”

Put your ear up the front door and a faint groaning. Shit, she might be sick. This use of the spare key feels more justified to you. Barge in and jog to her room. The door is wide-open, yet your eyes are wider. As if all at once, the world bore down its weight on your perception.

This can’t be happening.

But what’s happening happens nonetheless.

Heejin is on her bed, lids shut in full rapture, while she grinds against the big brown stuffed beat you gave her exactly a year ago. Nothing on but a striped yellow tank top and fake round glasses. “Gonna c-cum on, all over your cock! Daddy!”

The plush toy’s leg is dark. Grows darker. All wet. Her ass is perfect, and you even catch a glimpse of the side of her breasts. Wide-eyed, you watch the smirk form on her face when her orgasm settles down. But for you, panic sets in. “I’m sorry. Heejin, I shouldn’t have—I’m gonna go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Heejin’s sudden anger isn’t just in her voice; it’s in her hands pulling you with urgency back into the room, digging into your shoulder; it’s in her feet as they step on yours. Despite all that, you can’t bring yourself to see her more than a bratty princess.

Your exhalations are too loud, anxiety too obvious.

“Still wanna leave?” On the tips of her toes, she leans in until your breath bounces off her lips. Heejin is motionless. Imaginary ropes hold her body.

It isn’t the sexual tension that makes you act first for the first time. Somehow, she manages to keep some pure charm. Somewhere. Somewhere you can’t reach, deep in her eyes, and instinct animates the stillness. Your lips lunge towards her, and when they connect, fire blossoms within you. There is no justification for your reticence: you’ve always needed this kiss. Yet, Heejin makes out with you as though she needs it more. A small clash of desire when your lips pucker and pull away—push back in with the heartbeat thump plain to hear.

This is the flip of a switch.

This is a circuit breaker and a circuit broken, and this is the circuit—you always had dirty thoughts about Heejin, a girl too innocent for that, so you had to pull away. And because you pull away, she doesn’t deserve your indecision. There was no universe that “daddy” could mean anything more.

Should’ve seen through the lie. Should’ve known from day one. Too innocent for that, you thought, but the way she kisses you, the way she softly bites your lip, the way her tongue invades holds no innocence. Her unclad crotch grinding you over your pants fails a test of purity. Neither of you is on the wall anymore. As you make out, each of you tangles and swirls around the room, bodies like lips. You on the wall again. Heejin lifted onto her desk. Hands on her back. Naughty hands lower.

The bed was inevitable. Your head on the pillow, Heejin straddles you, bends down to continue kissing you with less inhibition, more spit. “I don’t know if we should have sex yet, daddy.”

The word hits you differently when she’s kissing you, when she’s sitting in nothing but a flimsy top. It gives you shivers. It makes your erection perk up in your pants. It digs to the deepest parts of your psyche. This is someone you saw in her most vulnerable times, someone you almost saw as a daughter. Even if you didn’t raise her, far too young to be her actual dad, you were the closest substitute when hers willingly stayed distant. This isn’t right.

It’s right because it isn’t right.

Heejin twirls her hair, bites her lip. You’ll never understand how she manages to keep such a cute image while your erection burgeons with a full head of steam. The only layers that separate you from Heejin’s slit are your dress pants and boxers, both easily removed in one motion.

“We shouldn’t have sex because you’d put a baby into me instantly. No, no, we can’t have that happen yet—” Heejin yelps when you push her off your legs. Sit up, and now she’s the one on her back.

“You’re right, princess.” Air bounces around in her ear as whispered words, but Heejin only feels the warmth. “Yet? We can’t have that happen at all. I’m your daddy, right? And daddies shouldn’t be filling their baby girls up with cum.”

Part her legs around you. Fingers and knuckles knead her thighs, get closer between. A long bout of teasing and rolling warm skin. Slick leaky holes. You need more. A single pinky finger traces her simple folds. From the onset, you can feel the snugness of her pussy; the lightest touch makes it clutch further for nothing. “Daddy, please. Stop, stop messing with me.”

“You’ve been the one messing with me. Daddy? How was I supposed to hold myself back when a gorgeous woman like you says it?”

Her legs tighten. “Y-you’re not. You weren’t supposed to.”

You’re wasting precious time on this Earth that could be spent pleasuring Heejin, watching her lewd bliss. Insert. A digit finds purchase immediately in her walls, just one knuckle deep. Those tight cherry lips quiver under such small force.

How would it feel if it were your cock instead?

Emboldened by the thought, you push a knuckle deeper to a glorious melody. Then, the whole length of your digit. Your fingertip tickles a sensitive spot while knuckles graze the silken, faintly glassy flesh.

“Fuuh…” A low, breathy moan derives from profanity trailing off while your touch unlocks something within her, as though the finger in her constricting walls are a key for untold smut. If the first finger is a key, the second one is a billowing ram, and the third one is difficulty incarnate. They have to thrust so slowly, carefully. Her whole body reacts, tensing up, and as she backs up, her tank top hikes up her torso. Her midriff looks as good to kiss and savor as the underside of her tits. A couple of pointy tips poke through the fabric of her top.

“Fucking hell, Heejin. I don’t know if we can have sex at all.”

“Why not?” She prolongs the vowel, whining even harder when you pull the wet fingers out.

You needed something, anything to feel free. The pouty question gives you an incentive to unbuckle your pants.

“Uhh. May… maybe you’re right.”

A truly intimidated Heejin is a seldom seen sight. Your complete erection stands moments away from her entrance. Her spread legs lay over yours as you sit down more comfortably while she lies back.

“I don’t know,” Heejin says as she grabs your cock without real question in her gesture. Long white nails at the end of fingers that work up the courage to stroke you. Plodding yet pleasurable is her touch, and it activates something within you also. This untapped well of confidence surges with the knowledge that your dick makes her pussy compress your fingers harder. The mutual relief heats up, hands sliding faster. Voices now high. Fantasies once held back can be dammed no longer. You pretend your fingers are your cock the same way she pretends her fingers are her pussy. She spits on her hand; you spit on yours too. Insert, re-insert, it never ends. Until the end comes abreast. Writhing and squirming, Heejin pauses. You allow her to breathe; she allows your cock to breathe too.

“Daddy, I was thinking,“ she says, her hands wandering back between her legs, "since it’s my birthday, you could give me an even better gift.”

You reach over, kiss her again for too long, for minute hands on the clock that you remember being a few ticks back. A prolonged sigh on the trails of spit that bridge your lips. “What is it?”

“I’ve always had this, this, uh, thing. And it’d be only fair! Because you wasted so much of my time and, and you should’ve, we should’ve been fucking forever ago!”

“Heejin, spit it out.”

“Daddy. Take a whole week off.”

“Wh-why?”

“So you can fuck me. The entire. Time.”

You know that tone, that rare tone. Heejin’s voice has always been deep; this is another level of honeyed seduction mixed with a matter-of-factness. This isn’t a question—will you take a whole week off to fuck? —it’s a tautology.

This was always going to happen.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, do you?” Pursed lips, a heavy exhalation. “Busiest time of the year for orders, and you’re gonna make me take a break. I love you Heejin, but this better be worth it.”

Heejin’s voice hitches. “D-daddy, what did you just say?”

“What?” You sigh. “Look, I’m sorry for getting so heated.”

“Not, not that. You just said—”

“I love you.”

“Oh my god, yes.” Heejin’s voice returns to a vivid sincerity. “Oh my goodness. Me too, daddy, I love you too, I love you so much, I love you till the end of the earth, and…”

She sits up. You’re both on your knees on her bed, face to face. But when you expect her to approach with another round of kisses, she dodges you and goes for the throat instead. If it were a knife, it would have the same effect: marking, breathtaking. One by one, Heejin unclasps the buttons on your formal attire and renders you fully unfit for the workplace. You’ll call them later, tell your boss you got sick. (He couldn’t complain; October, and you still have all your vacation days. Bastard would be glad for you to "waste” it on illness.) On her way down your chest, her lips follow and plant their warm impressions on your muscles until you’re less dressed than Heejin, with pants and underwear around your knees. Might as well pull that off too.

“Why is kissing daddy so addicting? Mwah.”

On your abs.

“Mwah.”

Down to your thigh.

“Mwah.”

The other thigh. Heejin’s frantic breath makes your balls twitch.

“You think I kiss you all the time because you’re my friend? No, we’re not friends. I’d never just be friends with daddy. Mmm…”

Before she gives you the next kiss, she takes off her prop circle glasses, ties up her golden-dyed hair. It’s a quick, messy high bun, and she uses the closest object in reach to hold it together, a pen.

“Mwah.”

Right on your tip, bright red lips give much more than a quick smack. Heejin has the same moan as when she eats a delicious meal, ice cream on a hot day; she certainly slurps you up like soup. As more of your rod enters her mouth, that bun falls apart. With every bob of her head that impales her deeper, she gets messier. It doesn’t matter how her hair looks. Perfectly neat, a sweaty mess of strands—either way, her beauty blesses your eyes.

Heejin tries in earnest to give you proper head, but there’s no need for it. Whether she fucks her face onto your shaft or rests her lips inertly on your cockhead, you’ll consider it a day well spent. Her lips disconnect and let your shaft flump out. Her fingers stroke you again. “I’ve never sucked cock or anything before, daddy. I’ve only imagined like this.”

She demonstrates by taking the now pre-cum-layered digits to her mouth. Fingers, dick, fingers, dick. Back and forth, she gives suction until your length is as saliva-slicked as her hand. “Goddamn, Heekie. I’m gonna… Gonna fucking—”

And right then, her head stops bouncing. In a damned stasis, the only motions are instincts of her throat gagging, but Heejin tries her hardest to hold you in, to devour your member without making it erupt.

“Fucking… For someone who’s never sucked dick…”

She stays in that position—back-arched, ass stuck out, face in your crotch—for an unbelievable amount of time.

As in you don’t believe it’s already noon; you swear this started at a business morning. Truly, Heejin’s mouth makes time move in crooked ways. “Don’t you need to eat?” you ask.

Spit streams down your shaft. Finally, she lets go. Pop. “Why would I?” She takes a lick of your popsicle; you could melt when she speeds up her licking and lapping, especially as she swirls around the most sensitive parts. Still can’t take her word for the fact she’s never done this before.

When Heejin perks up and looks you in the eyes, you can’t help but stare. Stare down her cleavage. Stare past between her legs. The same darkness on her sheets as your year-old present.

“I can’t handle this anymore. I know I said we should take it slow, but, but I need it in my pussy so bad, daddy.” Heejin leans into you which makes you back up to the wall. Your legs outstretched, she fits just right in your lap. What fits even better is her cunt’s folds against your shaft. A contrast of sheer firmness against the plush, moist textures. The bare slickness brushes up the length, then she lifts her ass and seats herself firmly on your cock again. Repeating the motion, breathing, both yours and hers, becomes a shivery mess, despite the warmth.

“I can’t take this either.” Your lips dive towards hers as you pick her up, wrap her legs around your waist. Your cock budges between her asscheeks, pokes at her entrance, threatens to slip inside at once as you scoot on over to the edge of the bed. “I’m hungry, and we haven’t even had breakfast.”

“Daddy!” Heejin giggles, not only at your jesting (it isn’t a jest) but also at the fingers that jab into her ticklish sides. You manage to make your way to the kitchen in a slow awkward shuffle as Heejin is essentially held up by your rod alone. And really, you’re trying your best not to deep-dick her where she stands. It’s tough, however, and you just barely make it to the island where you flop her, finally saving your cock from temptation.

“Let’s have some food first, huh?”

“Okaay, daddy.”

Grab some leftover pizza from her fridge, nuke it, sit down on the chair, and take a deep breath. How unusual that the two of you are this comfortable being around each other naked. You’ve caught peeks of her incredible figure when she lazes around at home, that tight butt under the boyshorts. Her muscles alone were a treat. Right now, though she still has the tank top on, you pretty much obtained a whole view of her body whenever she leaned down to suck you clean. But speaking of which: “Heekie, where’d you go—Oh fuck.”

Of course, she’d be under the table. And of course, as you realize it, now you have your adorable bunny stripped down to nothing, top thrown to the side.

One hand on a slice of pizza, the other patting her bobbing head. “You’re already so good at this.”

“Mwah. Thank you, daddy.”

“You deserve a treat.”

You lean down to feed her a bite of pizza; Heejin munches on it deliciously—but it can’t compare to how she nibbles on your dick like it’s her last meal. Pizza, cock, pizza, cock. Your moans

“You look so cute down there. Maybe cute isn’t the right word. Like daddy’s perfect baby girl.”

When you’re both done eating (the food), you grab some chips from a cabinet, some beer from her fridge. Heejin sits down on the floor, looking up at you so adorably. Meek paws tapping.

Like a rabbit in wait.

And like a rabbit, Heejin bounces back onto you, the same way you brought her to the kitchen. This time, you have more handfuls to deal with going back to the bedroom. Chips and beer and Heejin trying her damndest to snuggle your cock into pussy while you carry her. Luckily (or not luckily), you make it back to the bed without any incidents—if her slickness slathering your shaft isn’t an incident.

“Are we really gonna sit here all day and… ugh.”

Heejin pops your cock sideways out of her mouth, pops it back in, and repeats. “Thought so.”

“You can keep my cock cozy in your mouth I guess, I have to email my boss.”

“Ugh, fine daddy. I’m gonna just put something random on Netflix.” She takes her laptop from her desk then returns.

“Oh, so you’re not gonna—” Heejin’s mouth straight to the base of your shaft interrupts. Her head is sideways so that she can look at the screen while giving you a blowjob. “Alright, I should really just shut up, I guess.”

“That’s right” is what it sounds like Heejin says with your dick blocking air from any escape.

If life passed as the afternoon passes with Heejin sucking you diligently yet slowly the entire time, you’d go from cradle to the grave in ten minutes. It’s a blissful blackout. You’re not sure you sent the email to your boss. You’ve been moaning with no restraint the whole time while Heejin casually kisses, once in a while chokes herself with dick. You can’t even name a single show she’s watched.

There is no sun. You can’t say there ever was one. If there were, it would falter in light of Heejin’s presence.

Like the evening brightness, her energy wanes; you can tell by the lazy tongue on your frenulum, the small sips on your cock’s head. It’s this lack of energy that makes you start to fuck her face again. There’s one last sparkle in her eyes: she wants to swallow your cum, make you explode down her throat, feed every last drop of your DNA.

When you hold her head down, force the gagged-out spit, it’s only to slow her down. You tell her as much: “I’m not cumming yet. You’re going to have to wait.”

Though you don’t know Heejin for being patient, she seems to take the command much better as your shaft slowly exits. Attribute it to the lack of oxygen going to her head. She needs a rest, and truthfully, you do too. When her eyes close, you need one last treat to keep you in paradise, even as you rest with your dick on her lips. You turn around on the bed so that you can take her pussy onto your mouth in the same manner. While the cutest little snores wake you up—her sleepy thrum on your tip too moan-worthy—the black of slumber pulls you back fast.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You start Wednesday with a brand-new sensation.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“God, this pussy is so fucking good. I’m not gonna pull out of you even if we had to walk from the dining room to the bedroom. Rather than sleeping, doing anything productive, I’m gonna drain myself straight inside every day. I’m gonna make sure that your legs are sore the entire week, that my cock is warm the entire time, that your womb is filled with my seed so that you remember it long past the last day of your little slutty free-use week.”

How did this happen?

Day 20, Hate Sex (Yuju)

“Is something wrong?” You sip the bubble tea, munch on a bit of tapioca. “You seem down today.”

Yuju usually has more enthusiasm, bright eyes and touchy hands. She hasn’t even touched her milky tea yet. “I don’t know.”

“Aren’t you happy with your new agency?”

“Yeah, but…”

“You can tell me anything.”

“Can I shout?”

“In this store? Pretty sure there are people studying and stuff.”

“Ugh fine. Bring me to your house.” Yuju isn’t this kind of pushy.

Makes you a little nervous when you think about it. Especially since she’s never been over. “Uh, okay,” you say only because you got your fall cleaning done just yesterday.

The car ride to your house is bumpy. Or at least, you notice the bumps more, too silent to focus on anything else. When you look at Yuju, her blank stare, faint frown confounds you. Her long sleeve shirt covers her fully, yet you can’t help but look down from her austere face.

So you’re noticing bumps other than the road.

Throw out your bubble tea. Put hers, only half-finished in the fridge. She goes straight to the living room, no words to add. Instead, Yuju pushes you onto the couch. A levee crumbles.

“I’m gonna shout now.”

“Mhm.” Your hands are almost behind your back, palms on the couch. Eyes’ fire burns in such an intimidating light.

“Fuck!” Yuju throws some invisible object: a vase, a lightbulb, a baseball at a TV. “Ahhh!”

You cover your ears, but it’s too late. That scream could have pierced eardrums like a wine glass. Oh, she could have thrown a wine glass too; the nonexistence makes it harder to picture though. “Geez! Oh, why did I agree to this.”

“Because fuck you!”

“Woah, what’d I do?”

Yuju growls and inches toward you. Again, it’s too late, she punches you in the shoulder. A half-fake punch. The other half makes you want to cry, but you hold it in.

“Yo! I’m sorry!” Put your hands up, a survival instinct.

Your knees get the brunt of Yuju’s weight when she straddles them which makes your thoughts come out as stammers. Even in her jeans, an erection starts to stir at the mass of ass. It isn’t something you’d ever want to admit to the acquaintance; you’ve only recently started getting close to her.

“They didn’t explain this bullshit to us!”

“What do you mean?”

“Five months after we disbanded. Nothing. I still don’t have a fucking clue.”

“I thought you didn’t wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.”

“I guess it makes sense. Eunha never mentioned it before we… yeah.”

“I thought you didn’t wanna talk about it.” Yuju looks smug

You sigh. “Yuju. I feel like that’s not the whole story.”

She breaks the intense eye contact she didn’t realize she was holding yet, at the same time, shifts closer to you, her denim-clad legs now around your thighs. “What do you mean?” Yuju snarls. “I would know what the fuck—”

“Why are you sitting on me then?”

“I… I don’t, um.”

You shake your leg up and down.

Yuju shudders. “Wh-what, what do you want?”

“What do you want?”

She exhales a drawn-out, frustrated breath and pushes herself down to stop your bouncing knee. Yuju’s confident crossness returns, crossed arms, tense jaw. “Fine. You want me to be honest?’”

You shudder in kind at her. You can’t even say yes, just nod nervously.

“I hate being strung along.”

“What?”

“Source Music. You. The same fucking thing.”

“You’re only making less sense the more you—”

“Shut up.” On your lap, she inches closer one last time. Yuju is so close to you that she has to wrap her legs around you. Her black fabric-swathed breasts are right next to your face as she looks down at you. She rocks her hips.

Your cock strains at your own denim, and everything that didn’t make sense now does.

“So you know what you did. This dick is so hard for me.”

Despite the truth in front of you, on top of you, it surprises you anyway. You always assumed she was the kind of girl who’d save herself for marriage, not the kind to fuck her friend’s ex so soon after the breakup. Emotion can get the better of anyone, however, make them resort to anything. You still never expected sex as Yuju’s outlet. That’s a fair assumption of the planned events, even if no part of this is planned. “Hold on, hold on a second.” The words are a defensive reflex.

You can do nothing to stop her mouth that swoops towards yours. The kiss lasts until its traces can be found as deep red marks on your lips. Haphazard makeup.

Yuju pulls away after she steals the last gasps of air. “I’m done. I’m done waiting, I’m done being strung along. Done being told I’m just your friend.”

When she gets off your lap and grabs her hair to tie up into a bun, your cock reflexively hardens more than you thought it could. You know exactly what that means, and your lower brain does too.

“This stupid thing that’s been on my mind is gonna be the lightning rod for my frustration. I don’t care, this shit’s hard, I know you don’t have a goddamn word to say.” She takes her pants off, and you follow suit—unsuit. Yuju keeps her black top on, but you can’t take any issue when she kneels between your legs. One hand rushing to tug your underwear away from your ankles, the other straight to her crotch.

No, no words at all. Only broken cycles of air when her lips take no time to adjust to your width before her throat shows no mercy to your sensitive cock. The deepthroating comes in shallow strokes, strikes of your tip against the back of her mouth. You dig your head into the couch behind you, your hands into your thighs.

Broaching for breath, Yuju gasps. “You stupid motherfucker. You think this dick is going to make up for you being so stupid?”

You don’t dare touch her head or dictate the pace of the blowjob. If you had a choice, you’d tell her to slow it down, maybe use more tongue or twist her lips. You’re in no such position.

Yuju is intense, adamant about bringing her face straight down to your crotch, straight back up. No remorse. No holding back. Her bangs stick to her face because of beading sweat, and her bun capitulates, making her long hair flow once again.

This change of attitude still perplexes you. She was always a cheery person, not the kind to have such electricity in her gaze. You want to say, “Why the fuck are you like this?” but that is probably the last question to ask with her teeth on your only dick

With a quick unsheathing of your length, Yuju gets up onto the couch and shoves you onto your back. This time when she straddles you, bare skin against bare skin. A single hint of juice drips down her legs that rub against yours. Much like the celerity of her mouth, she has no patience, only grinding back and forth a couple of times before her folds overwhelm your tip that drags along. A tip that pushes right to her womb on the first insertion. No time to waste with your cock inside after all.

The next bounce has as much restraint, and the next after that has even less, less enough for you to forget everything that isn’t Yuju. You groan in a low tone, punctuated only by grunts while her hands grasp your chest above your shirt.

When Yuju rides your dick, hops up and down, she reminds you over and over again: “I fucking hate you.” Her inner muscles coincide with her statement by throttling your shaft in hateful need, in lustful pleasure. She becomes more aggressive as she brings her feet onto the couch to squat better, taking even more control into her hands. Whenever she sees you trying to inhale, she drives her hips down and draws your breath out.

This routine leaves you light-headed and winded. The hands above your cloth, paltry fabric, reach under your shirt so that she can jab nails on your chest. That low groan becomes much louder. Shouts that ring throughout your living room. Shouts that seem to cut to her ears, because then Yuju pulls her hands back out to wrap them around your neck.

“This pussy… fuck. It’s so good.” You can barely bring the words past your lips.

“That’s fucking right. Gonna make you regret fucking everything, you dumbass. Fuckwit. Moron.” Despite that, Yuju bends down to make out with you.

This kiss isn’t just drawn-out; it’s aggressive. Lips marked by biting teeth, tongues that bump into each other in their quest for the jugular or however deep they can go, and spit that spills down both of the necklines of your respective shirts.

When Yuju pulls back, her tits jiggle even under the top. Somehow, she’s riding you even faster. The frantic pace gets hair in her eyes which she tries to blow out; the warm breath blowing into your face makes it all the hotter. She straightens herself, continues her springing, even as she turns around. In this position, the heart shape of her ass consumes you the same way her warmth consumes your member. It disappears and reappears just as quickly, a rhythm like she’s trying to wreck your cock with ecstasy, to punish you with categorical carnality. Her fingers dig in again, this time into your thighs.

You let her do her thing as smugness takes over. Even more than the stomach-tightening bliss of her cunt, you feel a sense of pride knowing what’s happening to Yuju: the dick is so good that she herself becomes consumed by it. You can hear it in the volume of her shouts. A wave of energy. At the crest, she bears down with more force than gravity, smacks her slippery flesh audibly onto you. At the trough, she slows down, letting her adhering pussy lips savor the shape of your erection. Less of the sounds of flesh slapping flesh and more of the lewd squelches of her nectar-coated walls. The hands that were gripping your thighs now barely contain any strength, limp at her sides.

Her words aren’t limp though. “This dick! Fuck! It’s so good!”

“That’s fucking right.” No way she notices how you mirror her exact proud declaration. Yuju bends back, her pussy still sinking into your cock until her butt smushes against your crotch, but she struggles to put her arms behind her back to keep herself up. Her brunette hair almost falls in your face.

You could support her back, maybe grab her ass. But instead, you finally feel enough confidence to bring your arms around her chest. Knead her breasts over the thickness of her top. It’s still a divine sensation of softness.

Yuju takes your arms and brings them under her top, under her bra.

Feeling how her nipples tense from a small pinch is your limit. You peel her off of you. Shove her face into the couch cushion and pull her ass up until her body is an arch—a perfect position for you to plunge into, to experience her pussy without any hesitation.

“Yeah, what happened to hating me? Bet you don’t hate this dick. What a good fucking girl.”

“Just… stop talking.” She mumbles into the throw pillow that she bites. Words transform into a soft, continual moan from her throat.

“Stop talking and what? Keep fucking you, right? What’s your future husband gonna say huh? I’ll cum all over that ass, give you the backshots you want, stain you forever.”

Though Yuju twists her head back to look at you, there is nothing in those eyes as they roll back into her head. Especially nothing to stop you from doing exactly that. In fact, her ass slams harder onto your waist.

“What was I supposed to do, huh? Give you a call the second I stopped having a girlfriend? When I had no idea you’d be this horny?” You hiss, grabbing her buttcheeks, spreading them for some relief. (It doesn’t really do that, but you find no lack of enjoyment in the springy flesh.)

Despite the emptiness in her mind, her pussy feels the opposite every time you shove your cock deeper. There’s no warning signal when Yuju stiffens, from her limbs to her very core and most importantly, her insides wringing your shaft. Wetness all over. And since she affords you no warning, you give the same. The same unforgiving pace heightens your senses: the touch of soft walls around your pumping erection, the musk of sex, the heavenly image of her rippling bottom.

At the last moment, you extricate your cock and jerk yourself off with your jittery hands. The meat of your shaft slaps against her asscheeks, and your brain shuts off. Cum gushes out, sends with each throb, and streaks all over her back. Some of the sticky load gets on her silken skin, dripping down, some of it gets on her hair on the back of her head, and the rest sullies the dark fabric of her top. You keep pumping into your fingers, scattering your seed and sowing it all over Yuju.

The both of you come down from your respective peaks with slower circulations of breathing.

“Fuck.” She slumps, becomes prone on the sofa.

“Hrgh?” You’re a caveman now. Caveman instincts and caveman grunts. You sit back down, your legs around Yuju’s.

“Did you just cum on my clothes?”

You slap her cum-covered ass without thinking.

“Yeah, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Day 21, Sex Tape (Sieun)

The main actress is two seconds away from kissing her male lead. She’s in his arms. They’re staring at each other, tension palpable. Then, the script hits like a plot-driven truck. Roll credits. That inevitable tragedy occurs, the male lead says he’s not good enough and doesn’t deserve her in noble idiocy, they break up maddeningly, and then they go through their shared childhood trauma alone—maybe she’ll even move away to America for three years—before she returns in an unsatisfactory ending.

Well, it’s not like you’re the one writing this bullshit. You just had to direct everyone, lead the shoot, make it look nice. You’ll think of something better next time, even write the script yourself. And you know there will be a next time because it’s 1 a.m., and it’s only you and Sieun left on the soundstage. She could have gone home hours ago, before the stylists, before the caterers, before her manager, before even the cleanup crew. But instead, the angel stays behind to do her part, greets all the staff, reviews her footage, takes care of her makeup and clothes.

As the director of a romance drama, you figure the cliches exist for a reason.

The cliche of a director on his knees pleading for that one actress to be the main star? That one’s just as true: you, lowering yourself for Park Sieun. Every sacrifice that you made from then on was wholly worth it. It wasn’t just that STAYC was one of the biggest girl groups domestically by now, after years of consistent popularity, so her presence would attract many viewers by name brand alone—that didn’t hurt—but Sieun’s acting skills legitimately stunned you. The variety of talent that could be held in one woman was extraordinary: her emotiveness matched her vocal skills. Outside of acting, her kindness touched everyone.

Good timing too, given a relatively extensive break between comebacks, solo ventures from the other girls. Sieun wouldn’t rest either. Knees bouncing, she sits on the bed in the bedroom set, while you’re on your phone, in your director’s chair.

“Oppa, you’re not going home yet?”

You’re used to her familiarity now, but she surprised you at first when she asked to call you by the honorific, something she only said between the two of you. It made sense: as one of the youngest directors in the industry, you weren’t much older than her. Clawed your way up fast. “I should be asking you the same thing, Sieun. We’ve still got another month of this, and you’ve been staying later and later.”

She slaps the mattress, gets up, and walks towards you. Sieun grabs your arm. “Well, it’s because I really like you.”

“As a director? Thanks.” Your blush is just the same as hers, although the rose color spreads on her puffy, squirrel cheeks much better.

“Come on. You know what I meeean.” Her tone is whiny, dragging out the last word, shaking your arm.

You do. She always toyed with you in every shoot. From the first meeting, she eyed you with a smirk you didn’t comprehend. Then every episode that you filmed, she became more touchy-feely. A simple graze of fingers whenever she laughs and shows off that glowing smile. Bolder hugs. Life inevitably mirrored the certain climax of the drama’s arc. Nevertheless, you say, “Get off me, Sieun.”

Disappointed, she sticks her bottom lip out and stands up.

“No, I mean, this chair is gonna fall apart.”

“Woow.”

The two of you are standing. Put your hand on her shoulder. “Look. I don’t know if we should do this.”

Like how her smile could pierce the night’s fog, her frown could shatter a frozen man’s heart. You’re less than frozen. Sieun walks backward, away from you and into the pretend bedroom. She falls onto the bed in a seated position, legs dangling off the side, and reaches her arms out. You’re not exactly sure what it means, though it looks cute.

“Damn.” The soundstage is perfectly silent, so even your whispered voice carries throughout.

The bulky TV camera is still there. Not worth packing it up when another show is gonna be filmed here in the next couple of hours. Sieun points to it. “Record me, oppa. I wanna watch the naughty things we’re about to do.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” You’re walking towards her like a man possessed, like you have no choice but to walk where she stands, against the back wall of the set.

Your hands find themselves flat on the wall next to her head, pinning her. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean?’ I’m a good girl, right? What do you think you should do to a good girl?”

Can’t take it anymore. You propel straight toward her mouth, transporting the two of you around the set by excitement. Lips only disconnect for sharp intakes of air while tongues soften and curl. Then clothes fly off. Her vest, your suit that’s too stuffy, her jeans, your slacks. With full attention, your hands explore when her whole body is at play. But when she looks at you, it’s clear: she is not kidding about the recording. Tugging her bare figure around the room in a tight embrace—fondle her petite chest, her perky ass—you make your way to the camera and start recording.

There’s going to be a lot of film to go through.

You start by placing her down onto the bed and kneeling between her legs. In one swipe up of her slit, the first mild tangy taste sends sparks to your brain, stronger flames to your erection. Your tongue coaxes out her lovely expressions of pleasure. Her tongue lolls out of her mouth. At first, her eyes drill into yours because your mouth is giving her pleasure far too slowly for her liking, but soon enough you up the pace. Fingers run through your hair, and whenever you get the chance to breathe and look at Sieun again, her world is blurry, blissed out. Your tongue wets with her natural lubrication; it revels in her pussy’s folds.

“Oh, fuck, your tongue, your mouth, you’re so good at this.” No, Sieun is still in actress mode because she directs her words straight to the recording camera.

Wipe your mouth as you pull back to suck on her thighs. The suction could leave a hickey between her legs that only you’d know about. “And your pussy.”

You return to the rear wall, pinning her identical to the first time—except for the state of undress. When you lean in to kiss her again, your rigidifying cock indents into her toned tummy.

SIeun shudders. “Just fuck me.”

You kiss her cheeks, her jaw, her chin, then moan into her neck. “Mmm. No need to ask.”

She takes your cock into her hand, having trouble wrapping fingers around the circumference. Wrap your hand around hers, covering hers. Even at this moment, Sieun’s sweetness, the flush on her cheeks, gives you a need to kiss her on the lips one more time. Then you align. She concedes, slips out her hand, and you rub the head of your erection against her slick slit. You penetrate slowly, keeping an intense gaze straight into her dark pupils. There’s a different darkness, not one of color, but one of hungry lust.

Your tip hits her guts—or at least she yelps like it.

“Ohh! Ah, fuck! Oh my god, this dick is splitting me apart. Please, god, please, plow me, plow this pretty little pussy, will you?”

Didn’t expect those words, though you do as commanded, bucking your hips, grasping onto her sides to lift her pocket-sized body. Her pussy grasps tighter.

“That’s right, oppa,” she says with a lowered voice. “Gonna fucking cum in this pussy, fucking cum all over my face. Cum wherever you want, I don’t care.”

You’re speechless, just groans from deep within. You expect even less the way she keeps adding more dirty talk. Probably watched too much porn, tired of acting in the usual romance dramas, Sieun’s not a good girl at all. Any perceived innocence left is shattered, especially when she makes seductive faces at the camera as much as she does towards you. Eyes roll back into her head, mouth agape which quickly switches to narrowed lids and biting her lip, and then she moves on to nibbling on your neck. She must be eye-fucking the audience. Shameless, yet her acting experience shines through.

Getting into her sex-driven nympho character, the intensity of Sieun bouncing against your cock pushes the two of you off of the wall. Trying to keep her balance, her legs cling around yours like she’s climbing up a tree, but you have to support her warm, sweaty back anyway. You make your way towards the prop window, opposite the bed. She dismounts, but you’ve been enjoying groping her ass as you carried her here. So you do the natural thing and grab one of her thin wrists and twist her so that her butt faces you. Bend her body outside the prop window which just leads to the rest of the soundstage.

But the two of you have strong imaginations. As much as it is empty space and a concrete wall on the other side, that could be the Seoul cityscape or next-door neighbors. It’s in that image that you tug bundles of her hair as you pin her arm to her back.

Pounding her to cock-drunk submission is all in the leverage.

Barely sturdy enough to stand, the frame creaks as you pump in and out of Sieun. The rapid pace into her cunt tests your stamina as much as the integrity of the wooden structure. You don’t care, and neither does Sieun. Smack her ass over and over in a rhythm that matches her screams and moans of pleasure. In and out, you feel yourself get even harder.

“This ass is incredible. Mhh. You know I watched a few of your fancams? What do you think pushed me to give you the role?”

“Yeah? Was it my ass? Or my cute smile?” Sieun turns and gives you that dazzling grin, the same one that greets fans, and it’s incredible even in this heady state of euphoria, she still looks like that. “Did you jerk to it? Did you imagine how my pussy is going to feel?”

“Yes, oh fuck, how am I… dammit, how am I ever going to think about anything else other than this plump ass while directing from now?”

“God, yes, oppa. I want you to think of it. Think of it while you’re at home or on a date with your girlfriend. Think of it while you watch me make the world fall in love with my charms. While my fans watch the drama talking about how cute my cheeks are and how they just want to pinch them, you’ll be thinking about how good my ass looks, won’t you?”

“Fucking right I will, holy fuck you’re so tight!”

“Do you expect anything less oppa? I workout daily.”

Left buttcheek, right buttcheek. Both so plush in your hands, you pinch them. Now those are the cheeks you want to pinch. Your grip becomes fuller as you roughly hold Sieun’s hips, surely leaving a mark. you need to hold on to something for this wild ride. The set’s frame keeps cracking but you can’t and won’t stop; if SBS fines you for having to make a new one, so be it. Between the moans and shouts of Sieun to “keep going” and to “keep fucking her like that” you planned to give the actress exactly what she wanted.

With repetitions of profanity interspersing the squeaks and whimpers, Sieun is completely lost in pleasure, your cock overriding any other thought; it shows in her face. Her tongue falls out, her head lists slightly, and sheens of sweat glisten her back. Sieun grips the wooden frame of the window tightly and screams: “Fuck yes! Oppa! Fuck, right, that’s the—fuck, that’s the spot. Please don’t stop fucking me with this cock! Make me fucking scream louder for this dick!”

Lean forward and pepper her sweaty back with kisses up and down the silky skin. Wrapping your forearm around her waist, you straighten her body, pushing your chest on her back, making you two impossibly closer. “Let’s make this video a memorable one then huh? I’m really going to fuck you now,” you say before using your forearm to pull her into a bearhug, using your strength to push your cock even deeper and hit angles Sieun didn’t know she had.

“Pull me tight, fuck!” Sieun wails and shouts. She no longer has the energy in her upper body to continue gripping the set window, so her arms just hang off her sides instead. “Keep fucking—”

“I’m going to cum Sieun!”

“Do it! Cum in my pussy, oppa, dump that load in me. I want it deep inside. I want to go home to the members soaking. I’m not going to clean up. My panties are going to be fucking ruined, and, and… manager oppa is waiting for me outside. Oh, fuck—oh yes! H-he’s been texting and calling non-stop. Once, once he sees me like this, he’ll know exactly why I took so long.”

“Fuck, Sieun! Your pussy is amazing.” The endless filthy thoughts are all you need to push you past the brink. “I’m gonna cum!”

This is only the first ending. You know there’s going to be a sequel. But your brain makes it count like it’s the last climax you’ll ever direct to Sieun’s womb. Hot streaks of cum are delivered inside her waiting slit.

“Hngg, I want that cum deep in my tummy, oppa. It feels so fucking good. I love being fucked full. Ahh!” Sieun screams as your seed fills her, snakes her legs behind you, crosses them over, and uses them to pull you even closer. Excitement carefully fades while you savor the warmth of the cum in her walls. After a few slowing heartbeats, Sieun turns around, and the smile on her face says she’s got an idea.

“Pick me up like this and take me to the camera.”

As you follow orders, Sieun smells incredibly sweet even after the feral sex.

Sieun lifts her legs in a split, and you help her: one hand to hold a leg high while the other parts her folds.

“Look how much cum oppa gave me!” Sieun says proudly, using her finger and digging inside. By now, the semen has begun leaking out of her pussy, the bright pink stained in white. She takes what’s left in her cunt, gathers it all on her finger, then looks at the camera and sucks it clean. “Delicious.”

Right next to a desk in the bedroom set, there’s a cheap office chair where you set Sieun down. The seat gets a white stain from the last drops of seed from between her legs. Now when the main lead sits in you, you can be smug knowing the evidence of your indulgence.

After gulping down and showing off her pristine tongue, Sieun pulls you in for a kiss in front of the camera, like in the drama, but this isn’t a declaration of love; it’s a thank you for fucking her so thoroughly and satiating her desires. She darts her tongue into your mouth and rolls it around while biting your lip.

“Thank you oppa! Oh?” Sieun grins when she looks down. “Do you want me to help you with that?”

Before you know it, your cock is already rock-hard again, anticipating the actress’s next wants.

Somewhere over by her bag, you hear a phone ringing. “Ugh. Hold on a second.” Sieun groans in annoyance, walking over and silencing it.

“What did I say about phones on the set?” You chuckle as you replace her on the chair.

“Sorry oppa. Take a seat. I’ll make it up to you.” Sieun smirks, getting on her knees in front of you and playing with your erection, waving it around as her eyes follow it. “Fuck, I love a perfect cock like this.”

Despite having climaxed so soon ago, this blowjob doesn’t even last more than five minutes. Her throat expands and contracts with every thrust, every self-pushed facefuck that Sieun does. That mouth is so warm and wet with spit that she drools out. The chair gets even more stained, and you groan out in guttural lust. “I’m close, I’m so fucking close.”

“Wait!” Sieun stops you, and every fiber in your being burns with anticipation. She lets go of your dick with a soft pop, turning to the camera and blowing a kiss before smirking. “Just wanted future me to remember how much fun current me is having. Sorry, oppa!”

“As long as you send me a copy,” you say before she takes your cock back in her mouth.

“Mhm, mocoursee, I wilph gifve yoo a copy.” The words come out slurred since her main focus is keeping your shaft as deep in her mouth as possible. Sieun reaches up, cupping your balls, running her tongue along the underside, and spraying saliva carelessly on your shaft. “You’re gonna jerk off this video, right? You’ll probably never watch porn again. I know I won’t. Pwah. That should be enough spit. Are you ready, oppa?”

“Yes, fuck, Sieun, I’m gonna explode!”

Wet slurping sounds echo. Sieun takes more passes on your cock, as if to savor the moment.

“W-where do you—oh fuck… where do you want it?”

“Cum on my face, please. Trust me, it’ll look great on camera.”

Gather her blonde hair in a messy ponytail, feeling the sweat and spit on her hair. Small strands stick to her neck and back, some on her breasts. Even like this, her appearance is camera-ready. Pulling out of her warm, succulent mouth is a regrettable task, but you trust her judgment.

Yank her head back and pull your cock out, letting it slap her across the face when the massive length exits her mouth. Sieun is unfazed by the act—in fact, she seemed to enjoy it.

“Cumming!” You barely make a move when the pressure inside you is too much to handle. Flying spurts of sticky semen paint her whole face. The first hits her right on her eyelid before she shuts her eye; that strand drops to her mouth while the next few bursts hit her forehead, hair, both cheeks, lips, and finally her nose. Though her skin is already milky, your cream whitens it even more.

“Mmm. So fucking good. It tastes so fucking good,” Sieun says as she licks up every dollop and strand of seed to feed down her mouth.

You collapse on the floor and rest with your hands behind your back, panting and letting out short breaths.

“Wanna see oppa?” Sieun asks. It’s a rhetorical question because she opens her mouth, expertly swirls all gathered load, and shows the camera just how much she’s collected, proud of her haul of semen. Then she looks back over at you and guzzles it down.

Sieun crawls over to you, gets on your lap, pulls you in for another smooch. “Thank you for the memories, oppa. Oh, and the deep-dicking,” she says between kisses. “Does your cum taste good in my mouth, oppa?”

“It’s okay. Nothing beats the taste of your pussy though.” You slap the sensitive hole, getting your hand wet with some of the clear fluids that leak out before you lick your palm and relish in the subtle salinity.

Sieun giggles then turns back to the camera, making a peace sign and waving it around her face. She’s out of breath, much like how an idol looks when the camera is on them for the final pose. There’s dried cum on her hair, and the blonde strands stick to any bit of skin with which it comes in contact. Her mascara is running, while bits of cum left on her eyelid make her right eye squint. A sheen of sweat glistens her body, brighter than you’ve ever seen her before. The post fuck shine only complements her beauty.

“I think this is the best ending fairy pose I’ve done yet!”

You smirk. “Yeah, a sex fairy.”

Sieun’s head leans into your shoulder. “Mhmm. I’ll be sure to watch this tomorrow with Sumin and Isa. We were supposed to have a late-night dinner and all. Think they’ll forgive me if I show them what I was doing and introduce them to you?”

“Definitely. Anyway, I guess that’s a wrap for today.”

Smack her ass as a makeshift slate.

“Cut!”