BET ft. Karina

karina x male reader smut

6,185 words

"Bet." She says, and it takes a second for your brain to register the word that had just hit your ears.

You let the challenge linger in the now little space between the two of you. If there was any time to back out—it would be now.

Fuck that.

You played to win.

--

"Bet you can't finish that before the commercial break ends," she says, just as you've finished popping the top off an ice-cold beer.

You meet Karina's gaze dead on, not wasting a moment as you stare into her dark eyes and gulp down the entire bottle in one pull.

Just as she opens her mouth to say something, you interrupt her with what you would proudly declare to be a wall-shaking belch.

"Top that," you challenge, putting on your best smug face.

Karina simply shrugs and flips her own beer upside down and takes a long swig, following it up with a respectfully loud and drawn-out burp of her own. When she's done she makes a show of childishly pulling her tongue out at you.

"Not bad," you say, inclining your now empty bottle towards her.

"Not bad?" She responds with faux shock.

"You heard me," you shoot back.

Over the many years that you and Karina had known each other, you couldn't think of a single interaction between the two of you that didn't wind up being some form of competition. From the very first time you met as high-schoolers, to even now—her the glamorous idol, and you as the—well, you—the games still persisted.

Yes, it was childish and petty, but from the beginning of your relationship it was how you both escaped the monotony of life—betting on everything from guessing what song would be next on a playlist, to which group would get a music show win, all the way to what cup size did a certain idol wear?

You were more than proud to admit you won the last one.

"Whatever, tiger." She resigns, leaning into the couch and directing her attention back onto the football match showing on your living room TV. The game doesn't matter nearly as much as the company—it's one of the few breaks she has in her schedule, and it means a lot that she chooses to spend it with her only childhood friend.

It doesn't escape your mind that most guys you know—hell every guy you know—would kill to be where you are right now, alone on your couch with one Yoo Jimin.

Karina had always been somewhat of an anomaly in your life. She was born to be an idol—naturally talented, incredibly charismatic, and with the physical gifts to match; from her eyes which demanded attention, a face so lovely it made the most renowned beauties seem average in comparison, and a body that was unfairly proportioned—it seemed a crime against humanity for her to be anywhere but on stage, for everyone to be blessed by her incomparable visuals.

But lucky for you and every other guy—and some ladies too—the universe decided to do the right thing for once, and she fell into the idol life, while you were fortunate enough to bear witness.

Even now, it's difficult not to stare as she lets out a long yawn, stretching her limbs out on the other end of the couch. You can't be certain, but you're confident she's making a show of it. It's impossible not to notice the rise of her dress revealing creamy-white thighs, the black bra strap over the delicate line of her collarbone emerging from under her top, and the way the fabric of her dress stretches over the generous mounds of her breasts.

It's as your absorbed in that outline that she lets out a satisfied, borderline-pornographic moan.

"Bet you were just checking me out." Her face whips towards you, a knowingly devilish grin plastered on an angel's face, relishing in catching you mid-crime.

"Don't give yourself too much credit." You attempt a riposte, but you both know she's hardly fooled.

"Sure, sure." She laughs, clearly unconvinced.

You shake your head, attempting to pay attention to the TV as well as dispel whatever thoughts of lust you had towards her. Whatever chance you may have had, had long passed by now. She was the perfect idol—and that meant maintaining the allure of purity, whilst you had—in her words—spent your free time slinging your dick around town.

You were more than happy to live up to the reputation, and it was becoming harder and harder to resist extending that to Karina, especially considering her dress which was seemingly designed to accentuate her best features and drive you mad.

"It's alright if you were," Karina says, eyes still forward on the TV. "They do call me the visual queen, after all."

"Pfft."

"Fine, fine." She takes a small sip of her beer, before saying, "but for some reason, I think I'd win if I bet that you can guess the colour of my bra."

You pause for a moment—this was a line the two of you had skirted many times before—but had never really crossed. But still, you couldn't back down now. That just wasn't how the game was played. "Black."

"Wow, must be a lucky guess," she teases, moving ever so closely to you. She drops her voice down to a whisper—"it's okay to admit it—you think I'm hot."

You're not sure where this sudden brazenness is coming from, but you decide not to just bet, but to raise the stakes of the game on her. "I'd be an idiot not to."

"Well, well, -"

"But -" you stop her before she can continue basking in her air of superiority. "I bet you think I'm hot too."

"Do you now?"

Now it's your turn to move closer, near enough that your mouth is next to her ear. "Too bad you're too scared to admit it."

You wait there, satisfied that you've left her decidedly flustered, only to be taken back when she sidles up even closer to you, practically pressing herself against your arm. You shift uncomfortably, only to bring to your sudden attention that somehow the straps of her dress and bra have fallen off her shoulder, and her cleavage—once hidden—is now in gloriously plain sight to see.

"I bet I'm not missing out on too much." She says quietly, though her words are hard to miss even over the sound of the TV.

"Oh, I know I'm good." You smirk and decide to wear a mask of cocky arrogance to deflect the tension. "Trust me—I have references."

"Bet." She says, and it takes a second for your brain to register the word that had just hit your ears.

You let the challenge linger in the now little space between the two of you. If there was any time to back out—it would be now.

Fuck that.

You played to win.

You manage to find a way to snap yourself out of the spell cast by the hint of blue in her eyes, the tint of red on her lips, the flush of pink on her cheeks. You lift a hand, and cautiously brush a strand of midnight-black hair from her face.

"You're on, Karina."

You lean forward, close enough to breathe her in, the threshold between the two of you and the point of no return growing smaller and smaller, until finally, your lips meet in a soft, tender, slow kiss. Your next kiss is the same, a dip into the pool of water that is Yoo Jimin, your hand finding a way to the back of her neck, hers burying itself in the back of your head. Soft kisses ignite passion, and her mouth sends a moan into yours, her tongue following behind it. Your own tongue easily finds hers, and soon you're both pulling each other in closer, arms wrapping in each other tighter, doing your best to breathe each other in with increasing fervour.

Your hand moves its way down the curves of her body and onto her waist, and pulls her leg closer to you, swinging it over your own body and allowing her to straddle your waist.

"Mmph…" She exhales in the small moment when your lips part before crashing into each other again, and you feel your own pants tighten as her weight shifts and her body begins to grind ever so slightly onto your own.

Her hands find its way through your hair, as yours roams up her body, intent on determining just how thin the fabric of her dress is. Even through the layers of clothing, her breasts feel utterly divine—the softness spilling out the palms of your hands. You've been with your fair share of women, but it's Karina's breasts—Yoo Jimin's perfect tits—that burns itself into your brain as nothing short of heavenly.

She breaks your kiss, pressing her hands against your shoulders and gently pushing you away. She moves from your lips, kissing your cheek, your neck, trailing her way back to your ear, giving it a playful bite, before whispering, "I'll give you a B+ for that."

"B+?" Now it's your turn to be offended, something that's difficult to do when the buttons of your pants are threatening to fly off.

"I'm a rather generous grader."

"Bet." It's your turn now, and she raises an eyebrow.

"On what?" She asks, curiosity piqued.

You lean forward, placing a peck on her lips, mirroring her kisses, moving from the bottom of her chin, up her cheek, and towards her ear. "I bet, Ms. Yoo, that despite my B+ performance, I managed to turn you on. In fact, I bet that if I were to check, I'd say you're wet right now."

You can't see it, but you can feel the mischievous smile next to your ear, "only one way to find out."

She takes the remote, silencing the TV, before carelessly throwing the object aside. Then, she takes your hand from her waist, and guides it closer to the inside of her thigh. She releases her grip, pulling herself closer to you, granting you express permission to explore her most intimate parts. Her breaths in your ear grow shorter, hotter, as you slowly move your hand further and further up her naked thighs, inching towards her undeniable heat.

She senses your hesitation and breathes a small laugh into your ear. "Come on—don't you want to find out if you win or not?"

You waste no more time and slide your hand up her thighs, down past the thin fabric of her panties, over the smoothness of her shaved mound, and into the warmth of her undeniably wet pussy. You feel her for the first time, and Karina meets you with a long, breathless moan. Your fingers move purposefully slow, carefully exploring the new territory of Karina's pussy.

Her eyes flutter in ecstasy, more than happy to let your fingers work their way around her welcoming opening.

"Looks like you got me, tiger."

She begins to rock slowly on your fingers, allowing your fingers deeper and deeper into her, until you feel nothing but her heat around your fingertips.

"This is what you wanted all along, wasn't it?" You realise. Her eyes are closed, but the corners of her lips are turned upwards in amusement.

"What ever could you mean?" She drawls, continuing her slow movements on your fingers. "I just wanted to visit my old friend, while wearing my shortest, sluttiest dress."

"Well played, Ms. Yoo."

"We both got what we wanted didn't we?" She mewls, lost in blissful content. "I know I did. Or at least, I know I'm about to."

"Do you like the way my fingers feel on your pussy, Karina?" You ask, a question answered by the steady grind of her pussy against your hand.

"Yesss…" She braces herself forward on you, kissing the crook of your neck, while moving her hand downwards and deftly unbuckling your belt and thankfully liberating you from your own zipper.

The moment your cock is free from its fabric cage Karina's eyes snap open, killing the momentum of her grind to settle her gaze on the full reveal of your stiff cock.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." You say, not failing to notice the flash of need that suddenly overcomes her face, and the race of possibilities that light up her eyes.

"I think I just might." She says, staring so intently that you yourself begin to blush. "Gosh, tiger, if I had known…"

The end of her sentence seems lost forever, when she suddenly separates from you, eliciting a regretful sigh from your mouth—a noise she doesn't miss. She stands before you, reaching down onto her former side of the couch to retrieve her phone.

"You know, I didn't mean literally take a photo."

"Oh shut it." She playfully responds, swiping through her phone before waving it in front of you, showing you her timer app.

An all too dangerous grin flashes across her face—one that you are both fearful of and thrilled by.

"Bet I can make you cum in under five minutes."

Even now, the games didn't end. Couldn't end.

You don't even bother responding—you would have to be braindead to refuse.

Karina seems to agree, and falls to her knees in front of you, her hand still on your ever-hardening cock, her eyes becoming level with your manhood for the first time that night.

She stops herself, once again admiring its length, and you find yourself gasping as you feel her gently place her hand upon you, and begin to move softly, slowly pumping up and down your full length.

You look down and see her eyes unmoving, locked onto yours, capturing you in her mesmerising gaze. She makes a complete show of it, her other hand cupping your balls underneath, her lips moving ever so closer until you can feel her warm breath on your shaft.

When she knows she has you in the palm of her hand, both figuratively and literally, you watch her tongue leave her mouth, tracing a line from the base of your cock all the way to its tip, leaving a trail of wet saliva along the way.

She places a light kiss on the tip, followed by a succession of kisses down your length, her hand slowly, methodically pumping up and down the entire time.

It's a masterful performance, forcing you to watch as she makes her way back to the top of your cock so achingly slow, and just when you think she's going to extend the torture a moment longer, an inch breaches the barrier of her lips and you feel the pleasant warmth of her mouth for the first time.

She holds it there, still pumping, still pinning you with her gaze. You want to sink into her eyes just as badly as you want to sink your cock into her mouth, and the telling look on her face braces you for more. Her mouth joins the rhythm of her hands, your cock too big to make it further than halfway into her mouth, but she still makes the most of every inch.

You feel your hips buckle as she continues to take your cock in an out of your mouth, lovingly savouring every pump, muffled moans escaping as you try to reach deeper and deeper down her throat.

You can feel it—the familiar dam beginning to break inside of you, and she seems to sense it too, her pumps getting quicker, her moans around the thickness of your cock more frequent, louder.

You manage to tear your eyes away from hers for a second to see the phone—one minute left. You're not sure if you're happy that you lasted so long, or disappointed that the time was coming to an end soon, but when you turn back to her you still see her perfect lips wrapped around your cock, turned upwards into what was undoubtedly a smile.

And then, without warning, she releases her hands from your shaft, and takes the entire length of your cock down her throat. You barely have time to register the trap you've fallen into as both of her hands find your hips, and her once slow sucks become fast gulps, taking your cock at a breakneck pace in and out of her mouth.

With each skilful bob of her head, she drives you closer and closer to the edge, and in an effort to gain any semblance of control you grab handfuls of dark hair. She ceases her motion, allowing herself to be used, her mouth to be truly fucked, and you begin pumping into Karina's mouth in earnest.

You swear you've never felt a mouth as good as Karina's—she's as hungry for your cock as you are for release. Her eyes never leave yours, challenging you to fuck her mouth harder, faster, to find some way to get deeper and deeper down her throat. You feel a mess of spit escape her mouth and down your balls, and her throat clenches down on you.

Her eyes tell you her need—she wants you to use her, control her, dominate her mouth. You're all too happy to oblige, fucking her face with no abandon.

You feel yourself get close—and that's when her grip on your hips becomes an iron vise. Any illusion of control you have is given up, as she forces her head down on you one last time, holding her nose to your base, her throat struggling against the length of your manhood. You let loose your desperation, unable to hold back as a picture of messy loveliness takes your cock fully inside her mouth.

"Fuck!" You roar loudly, triumphantly. She gags around you, but still holds herself against you for what seems like an eternity as you finally feel sweet release, shooting ropes of cum down her all-too-willing throat.

You can feel her gulp down with each shot, and slowly, achingly, she removes your cock from her mouth and releases your hips from her grip.

Strings of spit and cum connect her mouth to your cock, and she makes a theatrically loud slurp, sucking it all in, swallowing down your seed.

You try to catch your breath, ignoring the condescending smugness on her face.

The silence is interrupted by the beeping of her phone, signalling what you both already knew was her win.

"Holy fuck, Karina." You manage to breathe.

"Holy fuck indeed." She laughs, rising until she’s standing in front of you.

You manage to compose yourself, as if you hadn't just had the most earth-shattering blowjob of your life, and lean forward on the couch to find yourself face to face with her now dripping pussy.

"I believe I'm owed a prize." She says with glee, one hand holding up the hem of her dress, the other gently running through your hair, guiding you towards her.

You stop her, to her dismay, before reaching for her phone and waving it in front of her.

"Four minutes," you say simply.

"That's ambitious," she replies, yet not totally unbelieving.

"Trust me," you affirm.

A wolfish grin appears on her face. "Bet."

The instant your finger presses the start button on the timer, you let the phone fall to the cushions of the couch, and you lean forward. You yank down her lingerie with ease, ignoring your desire to admire the soft flesh of her thighs, and instead dive right into worshipping her cunt.

"That's ittttt…"

Any pretence or doubt leaves at her first moan when your tongue makes contact with the folds of her pussy—a long, purposefully slow lick.

You press yourself tongue deep into her, drinking in her juices, and feel the plumpness of her lips against your mouth.

Her moans spur you on, and you begin pacing yourself with strokes of your tongue flat against the lips of her pussy.

You listen to her body, the subtle shifts of her legs, the harshness of her breaths, the volume of her moans, as you find the perfect cadence to stimulate her. Your tongue finds purpose higher and higher up her pussy and onto her clit, and you bring your fingers up and into her beckoning heat.

"Oh fuuuuck, tiger." She purrs, a moaning mess, her pussy collapsing onto your face and fingers.

She falls forward, one hand managing to brace herself on the back of the couch as she presses herself harder against your face, joining the rhythm of your licks with the grind of her cunt into you.

"Fuck—fuck yes!" She cries out, her free hand gripping your hair. "Baby—fuck!"

You double your efforts—you close your eyes and take in air through your nose, whilst driving your fingers deeper into her pussy, before turning them upwards to stimulate her inner walls.

Her cries grow louder, more demanding, but you ignore the noises and continue to lap the juices hitting your tongue around her clit, tasting the sweetness of her body and taking it into your mouth.

You close your eyes, you know she's close, you can feel the urgency of her hips, and her ever increasing pleas—"Please! Don't stop! Just like that!"

You dare to snake your free arm around her body, taking a precious moment to feel the firmness of her flawless ass, until finally your index finger makes contact with the ring of her clenched asshole.

"YES!" She cries out as you enter a digit into her wanting ass, her legs losing strength and giving way, her entire body falling onto you.

You never stop your attacks, never ceasing to play with her ass, to feel the insides of her cunt, to taste the slick juices surrounding her clit.

"That's it!" Karina cries. "I'm gonna cum—yes—I'm gonna—"

Her body suddenly freezes up, before suddenly an orgasm vibrates through her entire, young body. You continue to savour her body, drinking in the aftershocks of pleasure from her, taking in as much of her as possible as her moans drown out the sound of the ringing phone alarm.

"Fuck, tiger." It's her turn to catch her breath, dismounting your face, giving you a perfect view of the mess you've made of her pussy. "That was -"

You make a show of wiping her juices off your mouth, it's your turn to air your superiority over her. "I know."

She looks at you, as if seeing you in a new light, and slowly, purposefully, lets loose the straps of her dress and lets it fall to the floor. She kicks it to the side, never separating her eyes from yours, proudly displaying her dripping wet pussy for you to see. She ever so slowly begins to stretch around her back, taking her time to give you a full display of her toned physique, a well-earned work of art. Finally, she unclasps her lacy, black bra, freeing two perfectly round breasts, which grant you a generous bounce when freed from their silk prison, proudly displaying pink nipples taut with arousal.

For the first time, you see Karina's naked body in full—gorgeously bathed in the dim lights of your living room. You can't help but admire the mix of God-given genetics and clear hard work put into looking this good. This wasn't the body of just any idol, this was all the beauty and grace of a complete work of art.

Even with all her perfection, her completeness—her alluring, round eyes, her long, toned legs, her blinding, knowing smile which warmed the entire room—your eyes could not focus on anything other than the flawless teardrops which hung from her chest.

"Should I call this off and just let you sit there and stare at my tits?" She teases, but you can feel her wanting eyes on your length.

You ignore her jab, your mouth already salivating at the mere sight of her body, and she takes a dangerous step towards you, putting herself within range of your arms. You immediately reach for her, unable to help yourself from reaching around and grabbing two handfuls of firm ass. You pull her close enough for you to trap her left nipple in your mouth, savouring it, giving a playful lick, letting your teeth brush over it.

You take your time with her breasts and free a hand from her ass to move to her right breast. You pinch the soft flesh between your fingers and test the sensitivity of her hardened nipples; you're answered with a long, low moan, clearly pleased with your examination. More than satisfied with her left breast, you move to her right, palming the well-suckled nipple with your other hand, and feasting on its equally voluminous partner.

"Mmmm…" Karina allows you minutes with her breasts, before gently takes your head in her hands and removes it from her nipple. You catch a smile on her face at your clear disappointment, but she ignores your protests, reaching down to your own torso to pull your t-shirt over your head.

You unglue your eyes from her breasts to see her practically drooling, taking purchase of your musculature—as much as you wanted her in the moment, you could see her equal desire bubbling just beneath the surface. She falls forward into the couch and descends from above to lower herself onto your lap and straddle your thighs. Her pussy rests a few unbearable millimetres above your cock, just high enough to feel the slickness of her against your tip.

Karina takes her time; she cradles your face in her hands, lovingly peppering your neck and cheek with slow kisses. Satisfied she's left her mark on you, she moves to once again capture your lips.

It's tender and passionate, her tongue dances inside your mouth with your own. You take in each of her pleased sighs, taking in each of her moans. It isn't long before your cock is at its fullest again, making it impossible to ignore its length clamouring at the entrance of her pussy.

You break the kiss first, catching a look of offence at the slight in her eyes when you separate. "Karina," you start, grinning back at her, "bet you -"

"Oh, who gives a fuck at this point," she fires back, and wraps her arms tightly around the back of your neck, pulling you close as she lowers her hot cunt onto you. She moans into your mouth, the inches of your cock sliding through the tight, wet entrance and into her.

She lets out a long groan as she feels your entire length penetrate deep into her and throws her head back as the lips of her pussy meet the base of your cock. Her walls clench to you, all too eager to welcome your cock deeper and deeper into her. She falls into you, her body quivering with each burying inch. You linger for barely a heartbeat, exhaling a breath you weren't aware you were holding, and gently kiss her lips.

"No more games," she whispers into your ear, "no more teasing. I've been waiting too long for this."

"Me too," you whisper back, barely retaining your senses, overwhelmed by the sensation of her warmth.

"I need this," Karina says. "Fuck me, please."

She's incredibly tight—her wet pussy moulds itself around your cock, as if that was where your cock belonged, completely whole within Karina's cunt.

"Fuck… you're going to stretch me out…"

She presses her body further into you, her head nuzzling into the crook of your neck, her sweat combining with your own, her breasts squashed against your chest. Her hips begin to roll onto yours, your cock firmly embedded into her pussy, as she grinds herself into you, moaning sweet nothings into your ear.

"Oh God," she gasps, "oh God, I needed this."

You kiss the vanilla skin of her bare neck, taking in her lilac scent, content to roll your hips with her, a desperate attempt to feed as much of your cock into her as you can.

"You're so big inside me… You feel so good…"

You grasp her hips, lifting her ever so slightly up your shaft, and begin to slowly thrust in and out of Karina. She tightens around you with every thrust, her moans crescendo as your shaft disappears in and out of her opening, her own hips matching the slow, methodical pace of your lovemaking.

It's too easy to find a pace with Karina, you fuck as if you and her have been doing it all your life, you love her body like it's all you've ever known. Your bodies are in perfect sync with each other, over-indulging in a feedback-loop of overwhelming sensations. You gradually begin to increase your tempo and lift her hips further up your shaft before plunging it down onto you again, truly beginning to fuck her pussy. Each stroke lights your nerve endings on fire, easily sliding into her wanting warmth, fully accepting your cock.

"I'm yours, tiger, I'm yours…" She moans, placing wild kisses up the side of your head between gasps for air, and soon you find yourself pushing even further into fast, hard, pace.

She bounces vigorously on you, her body shaking with every deep thrust. She leans backwards, hands holding onto your shoulders, separating her body from you far enough that you're able to see the motions of her slim, young body as it rides you, the contraction of tight abs with each gasp, the hypnotising rhythmic bounces of her breasts.

With each push into her you feel the juices of her pussy pool around you, her body practically vibrating over you. You grasp her hips, slamming her down into you, crashing your bodies together hard, her body shaking in sheer pleasure as her walls tighten around your shaft.

"F- Fuck! That's so—so—so good!" Her moans spur you on, encouraging your fucking.

"I can't -" Karina's panting fills the room "I can't hold anymore!"

"Please!" Karina cries, falling into you, her body shaking as she completely takes over the rhythm of the fucking, riding you with a fierce determination. "I'm cumming—I'm cumming on your cock!"

Her body erupts, her graceful frame convulsing in pleasure as she is consumed by her orgasm. She presses her lips onto yours, passionately clashing tongues with you, her arms desperately pulling your head into her. She grinds out her orgasm onto you, breath heavy with each pulse of her pussy around your shaft.

In the minutes that follow, she rests her weight onto you, her body emitting miniature quakes around you. After a few deep breaths, she kisses your jawline, tracing her way up your face until her lips are level with your ear. "I need you to cum for me again… Could you please cum for me again?"

You respond with a breathless nod.

"I want you to take me. Use me however you want, finish wherever you want. Just…" She moves her head back, eyes level with yours. A thought seems to occur to her, as she tilts her head to the side, and a strange expression you've never seen her wear creeps onto her face. "You win—you've won me. Now take what's yours."

Her eyes widen with surprise when you take hold of her thigh, gently lifting herself off your full erection. She shifts off you as you stand, and you move around so you're facing the couch.

Realisation dawns on her, and you flip her over—she immediately responds by bracing her hands against the backrest, and proudly displaying her round ass in the air for you.

Karina's bare ass.

Property of you.

You can't help yourself, giving her right cheek a firm slap.

"Oh fuck!" She calls out in a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's right… It's all yours…"

You barely give her a reprieve and bury yourself inside her cunt in one fast thrust. She collapses almost instantly as you press her into the couch, her tits splayed out against the cushions, her back arching to give you the full view of the elegant curve of her sweat-drenched back.

"Oh!" She gasps as you pick up speed, pumping a mixture of moans and barely formed words out of her mouth, noises that could be closely interpreted to being calls of pleasure, calls of your name, blending into the sound of the wet slaps of your hips hitting her firm ass.

"Take me—take me please!"

You fill your palms with the bountiful flesh of her ass, intent on feeding her pussy as much of your cock as it could take. You feel like you're breaking new ground, pushing yourself deeper and deeper inside of her, every small measure gained eliciting another pleased moan from her.

"That's it! Use this idol pussy!"

Any illusions of romanticism and comfort leave begin to leave your mind—what you did before was lovemaking—but this had devolved into pure fucking.

"Do you like how my ass looks from behind?" She pleads, now matching each pound of your cock with a push backwards of her own. "I've been working out every day hoping you'd notice, hoping you'd one day fuck me just like this."

You respond with the roughness of your fucking, completely content to use her—use her cunt as a vehicle to help you reach your orgasm. You slide your right hand slightly to the centre of her ass, your digit feeling it's way around the ring of her asshole.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Karina, "maybe one day I'll even let you fuck me there—would you like that, tiger?"

For the second time of the night, you let your finger breach the entrance of her asshole, and Karina meets you with an approving whimper.

It's somewhere in the mess of moans and thrusts, in the fulfilment of her pussy and the exploration of her asshole, that the inevitable begins to encroach upon you. It's impressive enough that you've made it this long through your sojourn into the body of Karina, but you can feel the rush of synapses firing through your brain and the ever-increasing pulses of your cock.

"I'm gonna -"

You don't even need to finish your sentence, Karina already answering you, "inside me—fill me please!"

You take both hands and grab her shoulders, pulling her back and slamming her with rough purpose, no longer fighting the urge to reach the end of this single unmatched experience.

"Cum for me—cum in me! Let me feel you like I'm yours!"

Finally, you release everything you've been holding back—your cock lets loose inside Karina, angry spasms filling her with strings of semen, mixing in with her juices and overflowing around your cock, threatening to leak out of her lips.

"That's fucking iiiiitttt…." Her body responds in kind, trembling once more around you, reaching her own zenith while milking you for all you're worth, her pussy desperately squeezing around you, drawing out every miniscule moment of euphoria that she can.

That's where you both end, your face lost in the back of her neck, kissing and tasting the salt of her neck, your cock rigid and nestled inside her pussy, and her eyes closed, absorbed in the fading thrill of your fucking.

It's not long until your cock slips out of her body, accompanied by the thick load which drips out of her opening. You find your way to the seat on the couch next to her, taking stock of Karina's body—your newfound property—a breath-taking, beautiful mess.

She turns to you, face covered in sweat and smudged make-up, and you see her new for the first time. It's a face that you've never seen before—an equal mix of satisfaction, fulfilment, pleasure, and an ineffable emotion that you just can't place.

She says nothing, seemingly taking in your own expression, and giggles to herself, a surprisingly girlish sound. You blink, and she darts forward, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

She doesn't wait for your reaction, and you watch as Karina lifts herself from the couch in one clean motion, gracefully rising to her feet. She is utterly devoid of any decorum—she has no reason to be—giving you full view of her lithe, toned form, from the smoothness of her back, to the milky-white of her legs.

It's a sight you hope you can burn to your memory and keep for the rest of your life, the swaying of her hips, the jiggle of her ass as she walks away, and the gleam of your cum leaking down her the inside of her thigh.

She turns back to you, a knowing smile on her face, catching you staring at her once again. She laughs to herself, the loveliest of sounds, and says, "bet you fall in love with me."

LATE ft. Minju

minju x male reader smut

4,475 words

She tastes sweet. She always did.

There are many, many ways in which Kim Minju drives you wild.

First, there are her eyes. Round, deep, pools of chocolate, at once both perfectly innocent and irresistibly seductive. They are eyes which made vows and promised possibilities, and had an uncanny ability to see the best in everything before it.

Including you.

"You're staring," Minju says, matter-of-factly. She catches you in the reflection of her vanity mirror, and even then, her eyes, twinkling with amusement, cause your heart to skip a few beats.

"I know," you reply. "Can you blame me?"

Could anyone?

Minju rolls her eyes and returns hers focus to doing her make up—a light amount, subtle in its use, but enough to accentuate her already angelic features. She purses her lips after putting on a reddish shade—the second deadliest weapon in Kim Minju's arsenal.

Not just in application—though hand-to-God, did she know how to apply it—but in the simple things. Minju often wore a smile that could stop traffic if she wanted to—you couldn't count how many terrible days had been made better just by seeing that smile. And her words—from the easy conversation that could make complete strangers feel like the most cherished friends, to the sweet nothings reserved solely for you that were whispered well into the night—there was no more delightful sound.

"Anything in particular I could help you with, op-pa?" Minju makes sure she puts extra emphasis on the 'pa' syllable, and you respond by rising from the bed—your front row seats to the Minju-show—and walk across to stand beside her.

"Just admiring," you reply.

"And what do you think?" She asks, tilting her head up at you to meet your eyes. "Do I look worthy of admiration?"

A dozen answers shoot through your mind at once—some measured, some over-indulgent, some downright crass—but all complimentary of the woman before you.

You had seen her at her supposed worst—sick, hungover, or just having a bad day, and you had seen her at her best—on stage, entertaining thousands of adoring fans, and in the intimate moments, performing just for you—and each time you had never been able to describe her as looking anything but jaw-dropping.

Especially now, wearing nothing but a strapless, black dress, which hugged an hourglass figure capable of not only telling, but stopping time.

You place a hand on her bare, toned back, defined from hundreds of hours of dancing, which now beckoned you, inviting itself to be touched, to be adored. You lean over, determined to inspect the red on her lips for yourself, and give her a light kiss in response. She tastes sweet. She always did.

"You deserve to be worshipped."

Her cheeks redden, momentarily brighter than her lips. "Sweet talker."

"I could keep going, if you'd like." You move in for another kiss, but she stops you with a soft touch to your chest.

"You could do a lot of things, most of them all making me late," she teases, "how about you make yourself useful instead?"

You straighten, and she reaches into her jewellery box to retrieve a pearl necklace, your last gift to her. She hands it to you, then reaches behind her neck to lift up her hair, revealing the nape of her vanilla neck. You feel her watching you through the mirror carefully latch the necklace around her, warm affection in her gaze as you dutifully attend to her.

Her eyes follow you as you can't help yourself from leaning in again, falling into temptation and placing a kiss on the elegant slope of her bare shoulder. Your hands find her waist, and your kisses trail a path upwards, taking in the rose scent of her perfume, and the sound of her hurried breaths in anticipation.

Her eyes begin to flutter, and her hands reach up to cradle your face, bringing them level with hers. She kisses you, a kiss that fills your mouth with the sweetness that you had only just sampled earlier, a kiss that invites your tongue into her mouth and demands it stays the night.

It lasts forever and only a minute, until she separates, a regretful moan coming from her as she does so.

“I can’t let you turn me on like this,” she chides, "you know I need to leave soon."

"I never knew you cared so much about punctuality," you respond, "or was it someone else that jumped me in the shower last night?"

A playful smile creeps onto her face, and her eyes glaze over as she recalls the fond memory. "There was an open door—it would've been rude not to invite myself in."

"It's rude to look so incredibly stunning in this dress and not expect me to want you." You resume your previous expedition into the side of Minju's neck, your lips gently meeting skin, and you let your hands roam her lithe, tight, body. She shivers under your touch, and it's not long before your fingers find the perfect handfuls on her chest.

You've felt Minju's breasts a thousand times before, but it never ceases to amaze you at how completely they fill your hands, as if they had been made just to be held by you, and you alone. You savour the feel of them in your palms, their weight, their softness, and Minju responds by gently pulling the dress down and over her chest and unclasps her strapless bra. You break your kisses for a moment to take full sight of her naked chest—caramel-coloured nipples, sitting taut upon firm, plump hills.

It takes all your willpower not to fill your mouth with her breasts, to taste them, to consume their unearthly deliciousness.

But it would have to wait, and you settle for just pinching her left nipple ever so slightly, and moving your right hand further down, down towards the promised land between her thighs.

You waste no time, and Minju responds by lifting the hem of her dress in kind, allowing you to run your fingers under the lace of her underwear, over her shaved mound, and getting your first touch of her already drooling pussy. She's hot—overwhelmingly hot—and you're met with a barely audible gasp as you touch the folds of her womanhood for the first time that night.

"I love the way you touch me, oppa…" She braces herself against your arm, leaving soft kisses on your bicep, as you continue to plunder the depths of Kim Minju.

Slowly, you run your fingers in gentle circles around her moistening lips, taking care to keep a steady pace, easing her into the experience.

You listen to her body, feel the slight movements in her thighs and waist, the contraction of her abs, the hastening of her breath. You pay attention to the small adjustments in her position, subtly leading your fingers over her most tender parts.

Her hands join yours, her left interlocking with your fingers against her breast, her right finding the back of your palm, urging your own hand to go further, deeper into her.

You let her guide you down her pussy and into her opening, and for a moment her whole body tenses, and with a single finger, you breach into her incredible wetness.

Her body urges you to penetrate her deeper, and she begins to move, grinding herself against the palm of your hand, filling it with drips of her juices as your fingers go further into her.

"OH!" You insert a second finger and adjust your fingers upwards, finding that perfect spot that brought her that much closer to climax, and patiently, begin to stimulate her g-spot. "Oppa—you're—you're—right there!"

Making Minju come was an art form—one that you had long ago mastered. The first orgasm for her was always the easiest—it was rare for her to come only once during your fucking, and this time would be no exception.

"Ahhh, ahh—yes, oppa!" Minju's words are barely formed, the only distinguishable sounds being the calls of your name. "So—so right!"

You can feel her entire body tense up around your fingers, her legs clamp shut over your hand. She grabs the hand over her breast tighter, imprinting your fingers into her flesh, drawing more of you into her. Her eyes clench close, her mouth wide-open in an 'O' shape, her head thrown back to show you the lovely pathway from her neck to her cleavage.

"Just like this, make me cum just like this."

You obediently follow her orders, and you increase your tempo inside her. You relentlessly fuck Minju with your fingers, until her pussy tightens and shakes around your hand.

"I'm—I'm there—I'm there! Oooohhh!" Cumming has always been a full-body experience for Minju, and she rides it all out on your trigger-finger, and you finger-fuck her through each tremor which ripples through her entire being.

It takes Minju several deep breaths to recover, and she slumps her entire weight back against you. She looks up at you, a sweaty, blissful mess of a beauty.

"You're just so… incorrigible," Minju finally says, completely and utterly given over to you.

"That doesn't sound like a complaint," you respond, absorbed in her dreamy-eyed glow.

Minju lazily reaches behind her, her intentions becoming clearly when she finds the strain of your cock against your pants. Her eyes widen as she feels the length hidden beneath, and she fumbles upwards to set it free. "Oppa…"

"You did this, Minju," you say, "you made me this fucking hard."

"Then let me take care of you," she says, eyes still glued to the ever-rising tent, "take me to bed."

As if handling the most precious of treasures, you bend down to scoop up your prize. She's already a light girl, but the excitement and anticipation of what's going to come next makes her feel weightless.

It's a few steps to the bed, and you carefully lay her down onto the silk sheets. She scoots up to the top of the bed, ensuring you have the best view possible to watch her stretch her arms up high and remove the black dress that had been bunched up around her waist.

She stretches out her long legs and pulls her panties down, tossing them aside on top of her discarded dress. She's completely naked now, sans a single pearl necklace, and a hungry smile.

"If I'm going to be late," Minju begins, her voice quiet, as if contemplating each word as it leaves her mouth, "I might as well make it worth our time."

Minju spreads her milky-white thighs for you, lying back against the cushioned headboard and letting you see her body in full. Her breaths are heavy, her sculpted abs flex with each inhale, her taut nipples point upwards with each exhale. She holds you with her gaze, full with eager excitement. Now certain you are watching, Minju reaches with her right hand to spread the lips of her welcoming pussy, and her left to cup her breast, making herself moan for your viewing pleasure, touching herself just the way you knew she liked to be touched.

"Come join me, oppa."

You don't need to be told twice, removing your shirt, your pants, and thankfully releasing your now engorged cock, following her onto the bed.

Too eager to wait, she meets you halfway with a kiss, pulling you into her. She takes the opportunity to run her arms down your muscles, appreciating your body as much as you loved to experience hers.

You moan into her mouth as her hand finds the length of your cock, and she begins to ever-so-lightly pump your standing mast. She adjusts under you, drawing you towards her, bringing your hips level until the heat of her cunt meets the tip of your cock, forcing you to break the kiss from the overwhelming promise of her wet pussy.

"Inside me," Minju says, barely a whisper, "let me make you feel good, oppa."

You drive your cock into Minju's waiting, hot, slick, pussy with a single, clean thrust. Entering Minju for the first time was always an experience, a feeling of pleasure that took over your entire body, there was no sensation wetter, hotter, better than entering Minju's pussy.

It's a wonder that you don't cum inside her then and there.

"Love me… let me please you…"

You watch her face as you enter her, watch her moaning, sighing, gasping, as you inch deeper inside her.

"It’s so big…”

She tightens around you, more and more with each push, getting wetter and wetter as you start to develop a rhythm in and out of her body.

You fuck Minju, purely, her perfect body writhing beneath yours as you take her, listening to the many different ways in which she can moan your name.

You love hearing the way she says it, the way she sighs in satisfaction at each syllable, how she repeats it like a mantra that brings her closer to nirvana.

It affects you—drives you—replaces the rational part of your brain that wants nothing but to care for your love, with the animalistic need to control her—dominate what is rightfully yours.

"FUCK!" Minju yelps in surprise, as you shift gears into a frantic pace, thrusting into her, absorbed in bringing her with you towards climax.

You bask in the sight of the perfect woman beneath you, her generous breasts bouncing as you fuck her into the bed, her hands clawing at the sheets beneath her, desperate to find an outlet for her pleasure.

You lose yourself in her body, reaching down and grasping one of mouth-wateringly soft breasts between your teeth, pumping in and out of her in an unrestrained frenzy.

"Yes—yes—you fuck me so gooood!"

Her body quakes with each of your thrusts, and you can feel her get closer, feel yourself teeter on the edge, and just as you bottom out inside her pussy—a sudden light flashes besides you.

A phone.

Minju's eyes snap open at your sudden stop, incensed at the momentary pause to your fucking, but still follows your gaze to see her phone lighting up on the bedside table.

A name flashes on the phone—Hyewon.

"Ignore it, oppa, please—just keep fucking me, I'm so close."

But you have other ideas. "Pick it up."

"But -"

"Minju, answer her." You reach over, still buried within Minju, grabbing the aggressively vibrating phone and handing it over to her.

Minju reluctantly obeys, hitting the green call button on the phone. An involuntary gasp leaving her just as she's about to answer, as you return back to her, easily slipping back into your previous pace, indulging in her body—kissing the graceful curve of her neck, feeling the softness of her breasts pressed against your chest, hearing the echoes of her wet pussy against colliding with your cock.

"Unnie—I'm—I'm—ruh—running—ah—late." Minju moans into the phone, doing her best to stifle her unwilling mewls of pleasure.

It's cute, and drives you insanely wild, and you let your hands wander, over her hips, up her waist, settling to give her breast a quick squeeze.

"Ah—fuck! Sorry!" Minju holds the phone, biting down on her lip as you pinch her nipple. "No—I—ooh—hurt—ah—something!"

You can't help but grin at finding a brand-new way to indulge in Minju's body. You begin by playing with her nipple—"oh—fuck"—rolling it around between your forefinger and thumb, enjoying the texture against your skin.

Next you withdraw your length entirely—"nooo"—before immediately thrusting it back in whole—"Ungh!"

You experiment with each stroke, methodically withdrawing and burying yourself in her to the beat of an invisible drum, slow enough to feel the ripples of her walls along the shaft of your cock, slow enough to draw longer and longer moans out from Minju and into her phone.

"No—no—unnie—I'm not—" Minju struggles against the torturous pleasure, barely keeping it together, her face fighting a losing battle with the growing wave beginning to swell within her. "I'm not—no—I'm leaving soo—ah—soon!"

You can feel Minju beneath you begin to give up, her words barely making sense over the phone, and you pick up your speed, letting her wetness bathe your cock in its juices, easing your pace quicker and quicker.

"Wha—what's that sound? Oh it’s just—ahhh—fuu!"

You recognise the way her beautiful features twist in precious agony on her face, you feel her hips lift in desperation and need to have as much of you as she could, you see the moan sitting on the precipice of her lips about to escape from her mouth.

"YES!" One by one, Minju's walls come down, and little by little, she cares less, already at a loss towards the cocktail of lust, pleasure, and hunger.

Her body now matches your pace—her hips forcefully meeting each push into her, the loud claps of your skin making contact with each other no doubt reaching through the phone. She trembles beneath you, small shockwaves sending signals of her impending climax.

You feel a sudden need for her sweet, soft lips, a want to claim them as yours, and just when you are close enough to take them you hear Hyewon's voice on the other end of the phone exclaim—"Minju—are you—?"

"He’s fucking me so good!" Minju's thumb hits "end call" and her phone carelessly falls out of her hand and off the bed. She wraps her legs around your waist, locking her heels behind you, ensuring you remain deep inside. Her mouth widens as you reach the apex of your stroke, and her body tightens deliciously around you. There is no escape from her now, and you grasp her hips and hold her steady as her body writhes and quivers on the bed.

You feel her orgasm around you, her back arches up in a miraculous curve, her breasts push roughly against you. Her fingernails dig into your forearm, but the pain only blends with the pleasure of being inside her.

"FUUUUCK!"

She comes hard, a slave to her own body, sinking into the depths of pleasure rocking her whole. You had never met a more easily pleasured lover, the ultimate match for your sex drive, in both eagerness to please and be pleased.

She crumbles on the bed, arms splayed out at either side, hair forming a somewhat angelic wave around her head.

"Oppa…" Minju looks at you, and you're surprised to see a pout of all things. "You still haven't cum yet."

Minju reaches out her arms to you, and you fall into her embrace, and kiss her once more.

"You've made me cum twice now, oppa…" Minju whispers between trysts with your tongue. "Let me do it for you now…"

"Minju -" You're caught off guard by her sudden show of strength, as she presses her leg into the bed, kicking out and forcing you to twist in a single, swift movement. You find yourself on your back, looking up at a re-energized Minju.

She takes the change in position with poise, now revelling at her chance to take control of the fucking—to take control of you. She plants her knees firmly on either side of your thighs, leaning forward and bracing herself with a hand against your chest. You can't help but feel captivated by the sight of her breasts hanging above you, still firm and upright, and become hypnotised in their pendulum-like motion when she begins to ride you.

"Watch me," she groans, now able to cry out to her heart's content, able to fuck as hard and as loud as she wanted. "This is just how I want you… Just how I want your cum."

You aren't left with any choice outside of grasping her hips and letting her ride you without any abandon. This is what you have been waiting all night to see—the beautiful form of Kim Minju, young body glistening with sweat, moaning unashamedly, with an utterly perfect, tight, wet cunt, wrapped around your cock and begging to drain you for all you had.

"Touch me, oppa!" Minju grabs both your wrists, separating your hands from her hips, and reapplies them to her breasts. She holds them tight against her, making you squeeze her, sinking your fingers into pale flesh. Each squeeze, each application of pressure increases the volume of her calls of ecstasy—"touch me just like that!"

Her fucking becomes urgent, primal, she takes you up and down faster and faster. The rhythm pushes you, swallowing you whole under the weight of the beauty atop you. "I want it, oppa, I want it all from you—I need it—please!"

"I'm almost- " You're words are stolen from you, as her mouth dives onto yours, savagely crushing your lips and invading your mouth with her tongue. You wrap your arms around her back as she brings your head into her arms. Her ass begins to work in double-time, each second rising and falling down the length of your cock, each second bringing you closer to the end.

She breaks the kiss, her mouth finding the side of your face, hot breath hitting your ear, desperate words reaching you. "I want your cum inside me… I need to feel it in me… I want to take it with me tonight…"

Minju rides you—truly rides you, intent on pushing you, leading you to the same pleasures you've brought her to twice already.

"Give it to me oppa, give it to me, please! I want you to fill me! I want it running down my thighs, I want everyone to see how good you've fucked me…"

You lose yourself completely to her—her touch, her words, her pussy. Your mind is lost in the maze of Minju's throes, letting her drive forward the fucking, her ass roughly slapping against your thighs, her walls tightening and pulsating around you.

"I'm all yours oppa, all yours... Wherever… whenever you want! Just—yes—cum for me!"

Your vision blurs and bleeds white, your body awash with the intensity that lights each individual nerve on fire and makes you burn—burn for release, burn for her pussy, burn for Minju.

"YES!"

Minju breaks first, her body going frozen stiff, her mouth agape in a soundless cry, before finally her body shakes, overcome with sensations of her own orgasm.

"Oppa—I'm gonna—again—I'm cuh—aaahhh!" Minju moans with her entire body, no longer in control of her own self, nothing but a shaking, blubbering mess latched onto your cock.

You meet her there barely a pump later, a bolt of adrenaline and euphoria rocketing through your veins, your hips lifting off the bed to immerse itself entirely within Minju's tightly clenching cunt, your pulsating cock filling her to the brim with shot after shot of semen.

You hold each other with all your strength, lost in the pleasure, relishing every second you spend as one.

Eventually, you collapse with each other; you completely exhausted, her a quivering mess atop you. You feel the mixture of cum and juices leak from her pussy down the underside of your cock; an already absurd amount staining the sheets of the bed around you.

For the moment, the room is filled with nothing but heavy breaths and the smell of unadulterated fucking permeating through the air. She nestles her head into the crook of your neck, a satisfied moan leaving her mouth, and you can't help but think about how right this feels to have her in your arms.

You let it all wash over you, this feeling of being right where you need to be, until Minju lifts her head, smiles at you, a divine visage bathed in the afterglow of lovemaking. She shimmies up your body, raising her hand to turn your face to hers, blessing you with a kiss that communicates the only thing that mattered between the two of you.

"Looks like I'm going to have an interesting conversation with Hyewon tonight." Minju laughs, a laugh as delicate and pretty as her. "How am I supposed to go out after that?"

"You could always stay," you suggest, out of breath.

"As much as I would like to, I couldn't do that to the other girls." She sighs, and places a hand on your chest, using it to push herself up off you, and off the bed. "I'm going to be in so much trouble…"

You prop yourself up on your arm, rewarded with the full sight of her naked pussy, still flowing with juices, as she bends over to pick up her previously discarded undergarments.

"You're not going to—" You start to ask, as she slips back into her lace underwear, pulling it over her well-fucked pussy.

"Why would I let such good cum go to waste?" She asks, giggling as she replaces her strapless bra, followed by stepping into her previously discarded dress.

You mentally wave goodbye to Minju's ass for the night as it disappears underneath the tight fabric, and Minju walks back to the vanity mirror.

It merely takes a few impressive minutes, but her hair is completely in place, her make-up readjusted, and her outfit back in complete order. Its magic, you swear, as you witness the flawless Kim Minju pose for you, playfully mimicking one of her many photo shoots, all the while baring no evidence that she was screaming your name moments ago.

“How do I look?”

Minju steps slightly, and the light shines just at the right angle on the inside of her leg, and you see the glistening trail of your cum against creamy-white skin.

“Perfect.”

She grins, a naughty look at odds with the epitome of class she has returned her body to, and falls onto the bed once more, crawling over to you on all fours. She presses herself against your side, kisses you lightly, and whispers, "all night, I'm going to feel you inside me, oppa."

And then she leaves, taking part of you with her.

There are many, many ways in which Kim Minju drives you wild, and every day brings opportunity to discover more.

REUNION ft. Ryujin

ryujin x male reader smut

6,905 words

You've always been weak for girls with pretty eyes, but Ryujin's eyes, illuminated by the embers of your cigarette, both absorbing and intensifying the light of the fire, hypnotises you. Her gaze remains on you through her inhale; sharp and curious, as if you were just an interesting book she'd pulled off her shelf.

The moment ends painfully soon, and she steps back, cigarette well lit, a cloud of smoke the only thing separating the two of you.

It's the most intimate you've been with a girl in months.

--

You've always hated reunions.

People you barely know, talking up lives you don't care about, all for the purpose of attempting to rub their success in their peers' faces and stress the fact that no, high school wasn't the peak of their lives.

It hasn't even been that long since you graduated high school to warrant a reunion in the first place!

It doesn't help that this is yet another get together where everyone else came with a partner to parade around except you. So yes, you're bitter—bitter, and a little bit drunk—but your point still stands regardless.

Ruefully, you check your phone, hoping for a message, a smoke signal—anything, but knowing full well that you've been stood up by someone you thought was a sure thing.

No matter how many times it happened, getting ghosted still fucking hurt.

Still, you'd rather be outside in the cold, with nothing to keep you warm except the cigarette balanced between your fingers, than indoors, back in the barbeque restaurant faced with looks of either pity or ridicule.

You take a long drag, wondering how long you can make this cigarette last, wondering if it'll be long enough for you to muster up the will to go back inside. Would there even be a point in going back in?

"You're fucking ridiculous!" Your thoughts are rudely interrupted, as Ryujin bursts through the entrance to the restaurant behind you, her face beet red with anger and alcohol.

You pity whoever is on the receiving end of her barrage.

"You told me—you promised me—that you'd make it this time!" Her voice gets louder with each word, and even though you were here first, you feel like you're the one intruding on something incredibly personal.

You decide to stay where you are and enjoy the show, content to watch Ryujin curse creatively into the phone. It's almost educational, as she seems to find new, innovative ways to tell whoever it is how badly they fucked up.

A boyfriend, you figure—only a partner could warrant that level of berating.

You had heard that Ryujin had a boyfriend, even though she always came to these class reunions solo. You had always assumed it was just a lie she used to politely turn down the few nostalgic guys who had gained enough liquid courage to confess to their high school crush.

Truthfully, you couldn't blame them. After all, you were no different—she was the reason you still came to these things.

For as long as you've known Ryujin, she's always been the girl. The girl everyone wanted to either befriend or be with—brains, beauty, and a surprisingly crass sense of humour—she's always had it all.

Even tonight, swearing up a storm in front of a nearly rundown restaurant; underneath the moonlight—she looks effervescent.

It's impossible not to be attracted to her effortless beauty—the confidence she carries herself with, the natural smile which curves her red lips, the hint of creamy thighs glimpsed between knee-high boots and denim shorts, the swell of breasts peaking from underneath her baggy jacket, and her ass—God, you're way too horny.

"Do you mind if I -?" Ryujin asks, and you are snapped out of your reverie to find her standing in front of you, gesturing towards the cigarette dangling from your fingers.

Without a thought, you open your pack, passing over your last cigarette.

She takes it, flipping it over and slips it between her red lips, and takes a step closer to you.

"Light me?"

You raise your own smoke in response, letting her take another step closer to you, so close that it'd be awkward to look anywhere but deep into her eyes.

You've always been weak for girls with pretty eyes, but Ryujin's eyes, illuminated by the embers of your cigarette, both absorbing and intensifying the light of the fire, hypnotises you. Her gaze remains on you through her inhale; sharp and curious, as if you were just an interesting book she'd pulled off her shelf.

The moment ends painfully soon, and she steps back, cigarette well lit, a cloud of smoke the only thing separating the two of you.

It's the most intimate you've been with a girl in months.

"Another reunion, and it looks like it's just the two of us alone again." Ryujin is first to break the silence. "I suppose you heard all that on the phone."

"Yeah," you respond.

"You must think I'm insane." A sad smile appears on Ryujin's gorgeous face and it makes your heart ache.

"I'd say you're… passionate."

Ryujin absorbs your words and takes another long drag of her cigarette. She looks up, staring up at the night sky and the stars which hung overhead. Even the stars are incomparable to her. "Why'd you step out?"

"It's a bit much," you admit. "Everyone and all their partners in there, I mean."

"I thought you were bringing someone?"

You fidget with the cigarette between your fingers. "Ghosted."

"That… sucks," Ryujin replies, and you refuse to look at her then, unwilling to see pity in such pretty eyes. "You know, I was surprised to see you single for so long. How long were you together?"

"This would've been our third date."

"You brought a girl to a high school reunion on your third date?" Ryujin asks, incredulously.

"I know, I know. But she seemed nice—and I was looking forward to just bringing someone for once. Every single time, it's the same jokes, you know?"

"Still. I don't care how cute you are. Third date."

Did she just call you cute? "Yeah, yeah. What about you—heard you bagged some rich guy?"

"Do you see some rich guy standing around?"

"Was he the guy on the phone?"

"Got it in one," Ryujin says with some finality. A silence falls upon the two of you, and she takes another drawn-out drag of her dwindling cigarette. "I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me."

"Wow," is all you can say. "That… sucks."

Ryujin smirks at your choice of words. "Sure does." She disposes of her cigarette in a nearby ashtray, and turns to leave, "we better head back inside, I guess. The only two single people alone outside—don't want them to get any ideas. "

If only. "I think I'm just gonna leave."

Ryujin immediately protests. "What, and leave me here with all these -" she pauses, as if about to say a dirty word, "- lovebirds?"

"I kind of have some business to take care of at home." You shrug, trying to articulate your need to leave without explicitly articulating your need to leave.

"What kind of business could you have so late?"

"Today was, well—I was planning to have someone to spend the night with, you know, third date. It's been a seriously long time and…" Fuck it, no pussyfooting around it. "To be completely honest, I'm backed up as hell."

Ryujin blinks, and part of you wants to take out your phone to take a photo of the gobsmacked expression on her face as her mind works overtime to interpret what you just said. And then she laughs. Really laughs. Her face transforms and lights up, and you’re instantly enraptured in how beautiful she looks as she full belly laughs at your predicament. The pretty laugh is so contagious that you can't help but be caught by it and join in.

"I'm not kidding—it's a serious problem. I was saving up for tonight, you know?"

"Where was this guy in high school? I had no idea you were such a dog." Ryujin says, between laughs. "You're really horny, aren't you?"

"I was probably even more horny in high school," you admit, deciding that you were too far along to stop being honest. "Still, I think you're laughing a little too hard."

"Sorry, no one's made me laugh like that in a while." Ryujin wipes away the tears around her eyes, still giggling to herself at your apparent suffering.

"Glad I could cheer you up."

"It's not like I don't know where you're coming from. I thought being in a relationship meant I could get it whenever I wanted. It's been so fucking long since I've had a good fuck!" Ryujin stamps her foot, a show of anger that is laughably cute. "Today I was gonna give that dumbass one last chance. I was really going to make it worth his while too, you know? I was even going to let him—"

And then a thought occurs to you. One too obvious of an opportunity that it'd be stupid not to voice it. You're not sure if it's the alcohol talking, but for the second time of the night, you decide mentally to say, fuck it. "Ryujin."

"Yes?"

"We're both pent up. You look really fucking hot tonight. Why don't we just go home and fuck each other's brains out?" To be fair, it sounded better in your head.

Ryujin stares at you for a beat, a strange, imperceptible look on her immaculate features. If you had to guess, the closest expression you could relate it to would be—hunger? "Look -"

"You're getting cheated on, I'm getting ghosted," you say, arguing your case. "One way or another I'm going to go home and handle my problem, it just might be more fun if I had some assistance."

"No. Look." Ryujin grabs the collar of her top, pulling it down to reveal a sheer, black bra. She pulls her top down just low enough for you to see the top half of her bra, it's fabric is so thin that it's practically transparent, only serving to tint the milky-white flesh underneath. It's just a glimpse, but you long to see more of Ryujin's bare skin, and all the other mysteries hidden beneath her clothes. "This is the first time I've worn this bra. It's part of a matching set."

Your cigarette falls from your fingers.

"So, I've got these on and everything. And since you've saved up so much—it'd be a shame to waste it on your hand, right?"

"I'll order the car."

--

Mere seconds pass between the door slamming behind you and you slamming Ryujin against the wall of the entrance hall of her apartment. Ryujin lets out a slight yelp when her back hits the wall, but just as you begin to worry, she grins at you, face awash with exhilaration at the show of force and excitement at the promise of what is to come.

She grabs a handful of your t-shirt, pulling you into her and forcing your lips onto hers. Ryujin's kisses are deep and passionate—you had already spent the whole ride in the backseat of the car duelling tongues with her, and you didn't intend to stop anytime soon. She kisses with urgency and desperation, crushing your lips with her own, tongue pressing its way into your mouth, filling it with the bittersweet taste of peach-flavoured soju.

She takes two fistfuls of your shirt and drags it upwards, forcing you to lift your arms up. She's much shorter than you and needs your help to get it over your head, but even before you've tossed it to the side, she pounces on your body. She lays kisses against your skin, her tongue treading dangerous ground across your chest.

She seems intent on leaving no part of your body unexplored, of marking you, marking her territory. She lays her teeth into you, smiling to herself as she bites into your nipple. She digs her nails into your skin, and all the while she makes sure to keep her eyes on you, watching every reaction of pain and pleasure she can get from you. Her kisses lead her down your chest, down the trail leading towards your bellybutton, further down, until her teeth meets the waistband of your jeans.

Ryujin works quickly—there's no tenderness or care for your personal well-being, just raw, animalistic want. She sinks to her knees, eyes solely focused on your hidden bulge, and in moments your belt, your jeans and underwear are down to your ankles in a single, swift motion. She leaves it to you to kick away your shoes and remaining clothes, entirely absorbed in admiring your near-stiffened erection.

"You really are all pent-up, aren't you?" Ryujin says, practically salivating at your cock suspended before her. "Lucky I'm here to help you out."

A tingle shoots through your spine the instant she grasps your cock for the first time, and like that—you're under her spell. You can feel the pre-cum begin to leak from your tip, and it's the light kiss that she places on you that nearly causes your knees to give way.

Despite the fact that she's the one on her knees, it's clear to you both that she's the one in control, and with one hand on your cock and the other on your thigh, it's her turn to push your back against the wall.

"You know," Ryujin says, her grip on your cock tightening and beginning to torturously stroke up and done your length, "it's been so long since I've sucked such a good cock."

"Your boyfriend must be the biggest dumbass in the world."

"Don't fucking mention him tonight," she fires back, harsher than you expected, hitting you like a slap against your face. "The only thing I want to be thinking about right now is how good your cum is going to taste."

Ryujin devours you.

Your breath is stolen from your lungs in a groan louder than you expected, as you're engulfed by Ryujin's hot mouth. One second your cock is level with Ryujin's face, and the next the entire length is down to her throat, her nose pressed against your base, her eyes watering against your stomach.

Her lips form a vacuum-seal around you, and she holds herself against your thighs, making it impossible for you to do anything but to hold on to locks of her dyed-blonde hair, doing your absolute best to not explode in her mouth then and there.

Both regrettably and thankfully, the overwhelming feeling of her throat wrapped around your cock ends, as she backs off, inch by agonising inch slipping out of the wetness of her mouth. She leaves your cock stained with the red of her lipstick and lathered in her spit, a long string of saliva still connecting her lips to your cock once it is relinquished from her mouth.

"Turns out I can fit something this big down my throat." Ryujin unceremoniously wipes away the spit from her lips, barely giving you a moment's respite before her hand is back on your cock again, and now her tongue, tantalisingly wet and warm, begins to swirl around the head of your cock.

She reaches around with a free hand and cradles your balls in her hand, skilfully balancing them in her palm, somehow finding the exact spot to bring your cock to an impossible hardness.

Her other hand pumps at your shaft, matching pace with her mouth, no longer bothering with reaching the base of your cock. Ryujin's achingly talented with her tongue, making heavenly movements across the underside of your shaft, around the tip of your cock, across the slit of its head.

Her eyes are no longer on you, her entire being is focused on the task at hand, her only goal is to keep you trapped in the immense pleasure of her mouth, now picking up into a frantic pace up and down your length.

"Mmmmmfff," Ryujin moans around your cock, and you realise that the hand that was fondling your balls is now buried deep within her shorts, no doubt pleasuring herself while she performed on you.

"Tell me," Ryujin asks, mouth leaving your cock, tongue finding your balls. "Tell me how long you've wanted me."

"Ryujin, I -" You can barely form words as her tongue dances skilfully on the underside of your balls.

"How long have you wanted me just like this?" Ryujin continues her assault, moaning into you as her hands move deeper down her own shorts and her strokes become even quicker. "On my knees, worshipping this amazing cock."

"I’ve always wanted it!" You gasp, as Ryujin switches back to laying hot kisses up and down your length.

"Do you want to know a secret?" She pumps your cock vigorously, eyes locked on yours, delighting in the clear evidence written on your face of how good she is making you feel. "I've always wanted you to fuck me too."

Ryujin dives back onto you, and you lose yourself in her—lose yourself in her hand wrapped around you, lose yourself in her mouth moving up and down your cock, lose yourself in the sight of your dream girl on her knees before you, lost in the pleasure of just getting to suck your cock.

You're not sure how long you spend lost under the spell of Ryujin's divine mouth—seconds, minutes, eternity—but when you come to, your cock is buried again in the back of her throat, Ryujin's tongue flat against your balls, and her eyes closed in what seems to be blissful pleasure.

She moans delightfully around you, content to let you fuck her face while her hand works at a fevered pace against her own pussy.

The mere sight of her—teary-eyed, make-up running, drooling around your cock—unlocks the part of your brain that runs on raw instinct and desire—to control, to dominate, to fuck.

Your hands tighten in her hair, and seeing the need in her eyes, you roughly pump in and out of her plump, red lips. She bends to your will as easily as you bent to hers before, her fingernails dig into your thighs, spurring you on to use her, to use her face, her throat, her sole purpose being a receptacle for your cock.

"Ummmmmphh…" She groans against you but never gags, her lips sealed tight and refusing to let go, her tongue still expertly working around your merciless spears into her mouth. She drinks you in, a perfect partner to your abuse of her throat, adjusting her mouth at the right angles to fit more of you in with each thrust.

She pushes past each of your barriers of resistance, as if somehow feeling the tension in your body as you hopelessly hold back your inevitable climax. You can feel her wrestle control from you, becoming less about you fucking her face, and her devouring your cock.

"Ryujin, I'm gonna—"

She keeps you in a wild tempo, the slickness of her mouth easily sliding you down her throat, your cock already well lubricated by her spit. She sucks you in, can feel you getting close, can feel your legs begin to give way, and she wraps her arms around the back of your thighs, grabbing your ass and forcing you to push, push as deep as you can down her throat.

A rush overcomes you, a feeling of falling, a free, swan-dive off the highest mountain and down into the filth of Ryujin's mouth. You're brought back down to Earth at the first spurt that shoots from you—thick, hot ropes of cum firing down Ryujin's throat. You can feel her throat contract and expand around your length, gratefully swallowing down the first, the second, and third successive shots of cum into her.

She takes it all with glee, a beautiful picture of a girl made into a miraculous mess of tears, make-up, drool, and cum.

Your spent cock falls out of her mouth with a pop, and Ryujin remains on her knees, pulling you into her gaze, making sure you see her swallow all your cum down. She performatively thrusts her tongue out, like a pet at your feet, showing you that she's finished her meal.

You mirror the knowing grin on her face, acknowledgement that she made your night, hell she made your year.

You collapse against the wall, leaning against it to brace yourself, but Ryujin follows after you, laying sweet kisses on your well-used cock, cleaning the remaining dribbles of cum and saliva dripping off it.

Absent-mindedly, you stroke Ryujin's hair, while she makes sure to do a thorough job—licking your cock up and down, over the surface area of your balls, up and around your shaft, even to your base, until it's covered in a generous sheen of her saliva. Eventually, Ryujin decides your cock is well cleaned, and rises to her feet, stepping back against the opposite wall of the hallway, standing in full in front of you.

"Fuck, Ryujin," is all your brain can come up with in its post-orgasm haze.

"Night's not over yet." Ryujin lets her jacket fall from her shoulders, before bending down to unzip the sides of her boots. Each move is purposeful, performative, like a planned routine to show you each inch of skin in the exact way to drive you mad with lust.

And it works.

She traces a hand up her delicious legs, taking her time to find the hem of her tank top. You've held your suspicions—Ryujin had always been athletic since you've known her—but now, with her baggy jacket on her floor, and her toned arms revealing inch by tantalising inch of porcelain skin, you finally get to see Ryujin's upper body in full.

You stare hungrily at the sight of her slim waist and tight abs, her body much closer to the graceful physique of an elite dancer than an average twenty-year-old. She finishes pulling the top over a pair of breasts that you get a strong suspicion would fit perfectly in your hands, or better yet, your mouth. You get your second look of the night at the bra she previewed earlier—it's function only being to keep her already pert breasts held up and together. The fabric's too thin and practically see-through, but has a dark floral design sewed in, coincidentally covering just where her nipples would be.

You see your own lust mirrored in her eyes, unashamedly drinking in your own body, willing your cock to begin to stir and recover its vigour.

"I did promise you'd see the whole set," Ryujin replies coyly, but she's already bouncing on her toes, clearly excited to show off what lies underneath her tight shorts. Gracefully, she spins around, facing her flat, defined back towards you, and just as slowly as she removed her top, she begins to peel off her black shorts.

You stand there, frozen, entirely consumed in watching the reveal of Ryujin's perfectly sculpted ass. Her ass bounces generously once it's freed from its denim prison, and you do your best to burn to memory the moment when Ryujin bends over in full, her ass completely upright, sheer lingerie matching her bra, barely covering vanilla skin, made even more transparent by the wetness that has clearly soaked through.

You're behind her before she's even standing again, and you're treated with a sensual moan that escapes her mouth when you press your now growing erection into the crevasse between her two ass cheeks.

You feel her near-naked body, run your hands up her waist, feel her grind back against your cock, her moans encouraging you to reach further upwards and grasp her breasts. She rolls her hips back against you, determined to massage your cock back to its full length.

"Strip me," she says, more of a command than a request, but you nevertheless do her the generous favour of obeying. You unclasp the bra behind her, and she lets it fall off her shoulders and to the floor below her.

You draw a moan from her as you realise your previous assessment to be correct—her breasts are perfect fits for your hands; small mounds, nipples already taut and erect, her young body aroused underneath your touch.

You play with her breasts, enjoying the feeling of simply balancing them in the palm of your hands, how the texture of her nipples feel between your fingers, the satisfied sighs and purrs she makes as you grind against her.

The feeling of her ass against your cock is too good—dangerously good—and you make the decision to return the favour she had granted you, kissing a trail down the back of her spine, feeling the goose bumps on her skin against your lips, the tension of her back muscles as you slowly sink to your knees behind her.

Ryujin seems to read your intentions, pushing her ass back ever-so-slightly for you to easily slide the tight fabric off her ass, and down her thick, creamy thighs. You can't help but lap at the juices already dripping down her thighs, dragging your tongue up the inside of her.

She bends back further, ensuring her full pussy lips are available for you to find with the flat of your tongue.

"Oooooh…" Ryujin braces herself against the wall as you make the most of her offering, tongue lapping up and down the folds of her pussy. You want to take your time, need to make the most of Ryujin's pussy, breathing in her tight ass as you plunge your tongue deep inside her.

She moans deliciously, pushing back against you, grinding her ass against your face. You can feel her gasp as you push your tongue deeper into her pussy, and it's now that you decide there's no place you'd rather be than face first in Ryujin's perfect, ripe ass.

You bring your other hand to the party, thumb targeting her erect clit, set on bringing her closer to the pleasure you could feel she so desperately sought.

Her thighs, objects of your wildest dreams and deepest fantasies, start to shake, urging you on in your tasting of her delicious pussy, drinking down the juices trickling down from her and onto your tongue.

She reaches her hands behind her, pawing for your head, soon finding a grip in your scalp, and pulling you deep into her.

"You eat me so fucking good!" Ryujin cries out, dead set on forcing as much of your mouth into her as possible, aggressively mounting your tongue with her heavily leaking cunt. You're all too eager to double your efforts, working both the hole of her pussy and her clit, basking in the oohs and ahhs of her body above you.

You can feel her, her full body getting closer and closer to its natural bliss, but her hands in your scalp tighten around your head and pull you higher up her back.

"Higher." Ryujin pleads, dragging your tongue up from the folds of her pussy, and towards the clenched ring at the centre of her glorious ass. "Eat my ass."

Her words ring in your ears, and your tongue is attracted to her asshole like a magnet, reaching out and giving her clenched back entrance a long, indulgent lick. She was already close from your dalliance with her pussy, and now the attention on her ass threatens to push her over the edge.

"Yes—yes—right there!"

You probe her, hungrily tasting the hidden fruit of her body, relishing its flavour, while your thumb resumes its work on her clit. You can feel her entire body quiver and writhe against the wall each time you move your tongue around her asshole, each long lick, each spearing attack.

"Fuck yes! Eat my ass! I'm almost there!"

Her thighs tense on either side of you, her gorgeous ass clenching even tighter, but you remain laser focused on feasting on her spectacular ass. You know she's close, her yells and yelps are no longer restrained, her fingers tighten around your scalp, and her juices run freely down your chin.

You bring your free hand to her leaking pussy, and without any warning, you enter her with your index and ring fingers.

"OH FUCK! FUCK I'M GOING TO—"

Her entire body goes still, each muscle in her well-toned body tenses, and somewhere in that precious moment—a domino falls.

"Fuuuuuck, baby…"

Ryujin crumbles, a shockwave of an orgasm coursing through her body, collapsing on to your willing tongue and still persistent fingers. You quickly remove your fingers from her, grabbing her thighs to keep her upright as she loses her balance, holding her to you, ass still against your face, letting her meld into the wall before her in a heap of quiet quivers and moans.

"That was…" Ryujin breathes, now joining you on her knees, turning her body to lean against the wall, facing you.

You wipe her juices away from your chin, contemplating the glistening stain it leaves on your hand as it does so, and you look up to see Ryujin smile, catching you mid-thought.

"Here, let me help you." Ryujin leans forward, and proceeds to lick your face—lick your chin, your jawline, up your cheek. She takes your face into your hands and pulls you into a kiss.

This time it's soft, tender, almost loving. Her tongue easily finds yours, and you taste yourselves on each other, wanting nothing more in that moment than to bask in each other, in the intimacy of being connected to someone.

Regretfully, the kiss ends, but Ryujin's face is still inches from yours, her eyes boring deep into you, when she whispers the single greatest sentence known to man: "I need you inside me."

You start to lean forward, but she stops you, placing a palm on your chest and somehow does the impossible, speaking into existence an even greater sentence: "not my pussy—I need you to fuck my ass."

She stands, and for the second time of the night you're brought level with her ass. You rise with her, and without looking she reaches back and again puts her hand on your cock, slowly letting you fuck her hand.

She walks, leading you cock-first through her apartment, all the while rotating her warm hand up and down the length of your shaft. You don't bother to ask her where she's taking you, only content to follow the mesmerising motion of her hips and the splendid little bounce of her ass with each step.

Her bedroom is just a few steps away from her apartment entrance, and is surprisingly bare, save for a single silk-sheeted king-size bed.

You groan disappointingly when she lets go of her hold on your cock, leaving you to watch as she goes to her bedside table, making a show of bending over solely for your pleasure until she finds what she's looking for.

She returns to you with a smile on her face and a tube in her hand, before turning her back on you, making sure you have full view of what she's about to do.

Ryujin squeezes a liberal amount from the tube and on her finger, rubbing the lube between her cheeks, and into her asshole, mixing it in with your saliva. She lets out a breathless moan as she breaches the hole with her finger, making sure to swirl it all around inside her. You watch her finger move in and out of her own anus, each push eliciting a harsher gasp, preparing herself, preparing her ass for you.

When she's done, she drops the tube to the ground and falls onto the bed. She's on all fours, facing the headboard and away from you, her ass high in the air, proudly presenting itself to you.

"Take my ass, baby."

You take a step forward, positioning yourself behind her, getting the ideal angle for your cock to line up with the clenched ring of her asshole. Lightly, you grasp both cheeks in your hands, and slowly part them, giving you full view of her beckoning entrance.

You push your hips forward, pressing your tip hard against Ryujin's ass, and finally, with a slight forceful thrust, you break through her resistance, the lube doing its job, allowing you to penetrate her incredible, firm ass.

You can see Ryujin writhe before you, gasping, clawing at the sheets, overcome by the inches you have pushed into her.

"Ryujin, are you okay? Do you need me to stop?"

"No, it just hurts… It hurts so good…" Ryujin replies, affirming her statement by pushing back against you, another harsh gasp leaving her as a second inch buries itself in her. "I knew it… Knew when I first saw your cock… I wanted it to be the first inside my ass…"

Her words shake you, but also serve to increase your arousal. "Your first?"

"I always knew I'd find the perfect cock…" Ryujin smiles, sinking into the bed, pushing back and groaning as she swallows another inch. "Mmmmm… If I was going to give away my ass… It had to be worth it…"

Her words, combined with her ridiculous tightness, overwhelms you, and you sink more and more of your cock into her ass, each inch triggering a different pleased and pained sound from Ryujin, each inch setting your nerve endings alight with overpowering ecstasy.

"More… Give me more… I can take it…" Ryujin pleas and coos, adjusting her ass further up your cock, drawing you further into her. "You have no idea how good this feels… how big you feel inside me…"

You can hear the discomfort in her voice, the pain from her ass being stretched, but her body shivers around you, and her words plead for more, until finally, exhilaratingly, you bottom-out, completely embedded inside Ryujin's ass.

"It's so big… So fucking big…" Ryujin sighs, so pleased to have you deep within her ass. Her right hand untangles itself from the bed sheets, moving between her legs, and she plays with her sopping wet pussy. "Now… Now I want you to fuck me… I want you to fuck my ass…"

She lifts her ass slightly, causing your shaft to slip just a little out of her, and you respond in kind by pulling your hips back from her rear. Even lubricated, it still takes work to thrust back in, but Ryujin works with you, easing her ass back and forth on your cock. You let her take the lead, let her control the speed and depth to which you plundered her asshole, let her experience each inch that set off tiny ripples of joy throughout her body.

Ryujin's ass stretches for you, moulding itself around your cock just right. She moves back against you, this time slightly faster, her moans becoming less and less pained with each thrust into her young, hot ass. "I think… I think I'm going to get addicted to this…"

You caress her flawlessly round cheeks, massaging the vanilla skin, unable to tear your eyes away as your cock is swallowed whole by Ryujin's perfect ass. The sight is almost too much to bear—Ryujin's young, fit body, face pressed down into the bed, sweat shining across her muscled back, fingers fervently working at her own clit, ass pointed up at you and gripping your shaft like a vise, hips rolling back onto you, hypnotically sliding you in and out.

"I think I'm ready… I can take it," Ryujin says, "go faster."

It's nearly over with the next thrust—you penetrate her hard, impaling her faster than the previous strokes, spearing inside the tightest part of Ryujin. She cries out your name, her back arching splendidly as she takes you in, but you give her no reprieve—withdrawing out of her, so your tip is all that remains inside, and then you push back in, forcing her ass cheeks to slap against your body.

"FUCK!" Ryujin cries out as you fill her wholly with your cock, leaving not one inch anywhere other than Ryujin's desperately wanting asshole. She squeezes her ass around you, and you continue to pick up the pace, wanting nothing else but to experience more of the unbearable euphoria of being inside Ryujin's ass.

You crash against her, each stroke becoming faster, her every cry of lust, of pleasure, of your name, becoming louder and louder. "You're so deep in me—you're fucking my ass so good!"

It isn't long before you're slamming in and out of her, fucking Ryujin's ass with wild abandon, ensuring every stroke maximises the length that you pull and push in and out of her. Ryujin's ass is too much, too hot, but so irresistible that you can't help but continue to piston in and out of her clenched ass, no matter how close you are to your orgasm.

"Don't stop—don't stop fucking me. Fuck my ass until I can't walk tomorrow."

Your hands grip her waist, leveraging her body against you for the exact angle and speed to fuck her, to truly fuck her ass. She's a mess beneath you, a symphony of satisfied cries of ecstasy and pleas begging for more.

"I'm so close!" Ryujin moans into the bed before you. "Cum in me—cum inside me! I want it! Show me how much you love my ass! Fill my ass with your cum!"

As if under her command, you drive yourself deep into Ryujin, and something inside you both simultaneously breaks. Ryujin's legs give way, and she falls into the bed, bringing you with her, your cock nailing her into the mattress. You fuck her into the bed, squashing her breasts into the silk sheets, and you can see her own fingers work herself even faster, feverishly playing with her clit.

Her body trembles uncontrollably underneath you, heavy breaths and loud moans leaving her, while her tight ass flexes around your pulsating cock.

"Oh yesss!"

Ryujin's orgasm pushes you over the edge, the tightening of her magnificent ass around you makes it impossible to do anything but follow after her. You let go of all your inhibitions, letting torrents of white-hot cum shoot deep into Ryujin's ass, shot after shot filling it to the brim. She shivers with each shot of cum, and lets loose a long, satisfied moan.

A sudden exhaustion overcomes you, and while you find yourself wanting to fall asleep embedded in Ryujin's ass, you do the courtesy of rolling to her side, your softening cock slipping from her body. You don't need to see it to feel the cocktail that escapes her well-fucked hole, dripping down her slit between her thighs.

You collapse next to her, ears adjusting to no longer hearing her loud exclamations of pleasure over the sounds of your bodies colliding with each other, to only hearing your mutual satisfied, deep breaths.

Eventually, Ryujin rolls to her side to face you, her face glowing with sweat and post-sex serenity. You've imagined this moment—imagined her lying next to you just like this—but somehow this exceeds all expectations.

Ryujin reaches over, a hand delicately cupping your cheek, lovingly running her thumb over your lips. You want nothing more in that moment than to kiss her, to hold her close, to feel her skin against your skin.

But something tells you that'll come sooner than later.

"That was -"

"I know." She says, leaning closer to give you a light peck. "I really am going to have trouble walking tomorrow."

"You asked for it." You smile at her.

"I loved it," she replies. "Although, I guess I'll have to stay in bed all day. It'd be nice to have some company."

"Ryujin," you say, a creeping thought in the back of your mind rudely coming to the forefront. "Your boyfriend—"

Ryujin interrupts you with a laugh—the same lovely, full belly laugh that started this whole thing in the first place.

"What?"

"You really bought that?" She asks, and like a pile of bricks, it all comes crashing down on you.

"But—wait." Your mind, still soaked in a post-sex haze, fruitlessly tries to put the puzzle pieces together. "Ryujin. What the fuck?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," she states, matter-of-factly.

"You don't have a boyfriend," you repeat after her, incredulously. "But the phone call -"

"Just a friend—Yeji—hadn't seen her in ages, was supposed to hang out today. Really fucked up of her to no show."

"Your friend? But you were really going after her over the phone!"

Ryujin laughs even harder. "Oh she had hung up long before that. Hey—do you think I should look into acting?"

"But—but the underwear!"

"I always wear this set to these reunions," Ryujin says.

"Why?"

"I always wear this set to these reunions."

"Fucking hell, Ryujin.” You feel dumb, finally putting together the last piece of the puzzle, and you join in her laughter at the ridiculousness of this situation. "You could've just said something!"

"And where's the fun in that?" Ryujin asks.

"A lot less stress."

"But now you get me. Anytime, anywhere, and as I’ve clearly demonstrated—any way you want me." Ryujin sidles up even closer to you, close enough to feel her hot breath against your face. "And if that's not enough, at least you won't have to go to these fucking reunions anymore."

VALENTINE ft. Irene

irene x male reader smut

4k words

It's in the little things Irene does that lets you know how much she loves you.

She comes to you early, earlier than you expected—you've only just finished setting the table; having lit candles, laid out silverware, opened the wine.

It's while you're placing down the result of your night's work in the kitchen when you feel her small body press against your back, slender arms wrapping around your waist, the subtle aroma of roses greeting you.

I missed you.

Gently, you place a hand on top of hers, letting her hold herself against you for a beat longer, before carefully peeling her hands off you and turning around to take in a sight that takes your breath away.

There is nothing else in the world that sends your heart rate rocketing, that clears your mind and fills you with a giddy light-headedness, that makes you for a moment believe in the certainty of there being a higher power—because how else could such a beautiful work of art exist—like Irene Bae.

Every time you look at Irene feels like the first time—she's so beautiful, so seductive, somehow making everything around her more appealing simply by virtue of being in her presence.

Tonight, however, she looks exceptional.

Long, silky, dark hair, cascading over bare, porcelain shoulders, eyes subtly flecked with light make-up to accent wide pools of chocolate-brown, her lips coloured a vibrant red, matching the colour of her strapless, flowing dress. Irene is the sum of a million things that makes her heavenly—long, toned legs, a petite, slim waist, the firmest, tightest, most succulent ass you have ever seen, and an elfin face that could both start and end wars.

I wanted to look good for you.

She takes a step forward, even in heels barely reaching your chin, having to wrap her arms around your neck to help herself up and pull you down into her kiss. It's light, soft, and she tastes sweet and delicious, and you want more, so much more that you want to forget about the dinner you spent hours getting just right and take her then and there.

But she separates from you, her heels clicking against the ground as she lets you out of her grasp, and she smiles knowingly.

There'll be plenty of time for that later.

You can't help but pout.

Patience.

You take her by the hand, leading her to her side of the dining table, pulling her seat out for her and helping her forward. You take your time, purposefully leaning close you her, close enough to her to fully absorb the scent of her perfume, to feel the heat of her breath, to see the elegant curve of her neck.

You tease.

You reach over, taking the aged bottle of red wine you had been saving specifically for this occasion, taking care as you pour it into her wineglass, trying your best not to be too distracted by the delectable glimpse of cleavage down her dress.

Eyes up here, mister.

You do your best to pretend you weren't just caught red-handed, blushing under her gaze, finishing pouring her glass before regretfully turning back to your side of the table. You take a seat across from her, barely a meter apart, but any distance would be too far anyway.

Candlelight is all that illuminates the room, bathing Irene in its warm radiance, the flickering of flame lighting up her widening eyes as she takes in the meal you've prepared for her.

This looks amazing.

Irene smiles at you, humming in pleasure at the first bite, savouring the fruits of your labour. It's not long until you fall into the rhythm of conversation, trading tales of your day, laughing at dumb jokes, glasses of wine freely flow between the two of you.

There is no comparison to the company of someone you truly love and who unconditionally loves you back—someone who knows your history, your stories, your dreams, your fears, and all your insecurities.

It's a short while before your plates are empty, wineglasses drained, and the luminescence of the candles begin to dim, and a silent tension builds in the space between the two of you.

You can see it, the flickers of desire and need on her face, driven by wine and lust and the air of romance permeating through the evening.

I know what you want—I want it too.

Irene takes care to dab at her lips with a napkin, ensuring her face remains unmarred, as if it’s even a possibility for her to look anything but divine.

She rises from her seat, walking over to your side of the table, looking like she's just stepped out of your wildest fantasy; the stunning lady in the red dress. When she's at your side she extends a hand to you, like there was any chance that you would ever turn her down.

Let's go to bed.

You take Irene's offered hand, helping yourself to your feet, letting her lead you down the hallway of your penthouse, past framed happy memories captured of times already gone, into the bedroom you've shared so many nights together.

The curtains are open, the city lights spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows and into the room, giving Irene an ethereal, otherworldly glow. She turns you around, pushing you onto the king-sized bed, giving you a front-row seat to her body.

Watch me.

You've seen Irene undress a million times before, seen her naked body in all its magnificent splendour so many times you could sculpt her in all her perfection with your eyes closed, but still, it's an utter gift when she carefully unzips the back of her dress and she lets the strapless, red garment fall from her body.

Underneath her dress is perfect, smooth vanilla, and your eyes drink in her incredible nakedness in its entirety—from her long, lean legs, to her cleanly-shaven mound, to her flat, toned stomach, up to the swell of her mouth-watering, perky breasts, all the way to her angel face with eyes solely reserved for you.

I want you to have all of this tonight, all of me.

She steps out of the dress around her ankles, heels still strapped to her feet, taking slow, measured steps towards you. You start unbuttoning your own shirt as she approaches, never breaking eye contact with her, less you miss her bite her lip as you reveal more of your chest.

She falls forward onto you, her legs straddled on either side of you, her heat pressing against your own swelling mass trapped underneath your pants. It's all too overwhelming, every minor movement of her body on top of you, the brush of her fingers against your cheek, the feeling of her stiffening nipples tickling against your chest, the sudden slight dampness forming over your burgeoning erection, eliciting a nearly silent gasp from her lips.

You kiss her—deeply, passionately, for the first time of the night. She moans into you, pulling your face into hers as her tongue invades your mouth, marking its territory as her own. You can feel her body tense and shiver as you fire back by taking her small breasts into your own hands, relishing the feeling of her lovely nipples between your fingers.

She takes her time—there's plenty of time—grinding against your crotch, staining the black fabric more and more with the juices of her pussy. You're more than content to keep her like this, torturing you with her gyrations on your trapped erection, ruining your pants with her creamy goodness, but she knows that as happy as you are to have her on top of you, further pleasure still lies ahead.

She makes a show of it, and what a show it is, as Irene kisses her way down the side of your face, nipping at your ear, licking your jawline, biting into your shoulder. She slides herself off your waist in an agonisingly teasing motion, leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your pecs, following the path that leads down towards the waistband of your pants.

Irene deftly unbuckles your belt, ripping it off your pants and sending it flying across the bedroom to some forgotten corner. You help her, not one to get between Irene and her meal, lifting your hips to let her drag both your pants and your underwear down your legs and off your feet in one quick, sweeping motion.

Her eyes light up as your cock snaps to attention in front of her, already at its full length, needing her to take responsibility for your swollen erection. Irene complies, carefully wrapping her soft, delicate fingers around your length, taking the full measure of you, admiring the stiffness in her warm hand.

You have no idea how much I love this cock.

She looks up at you, and it's almost too much, the feeling of her eyes on you, her hot breath on your shaft, her hand running all the way down to the base of your cock.

Let me take care of you.

She kisses the tip of your cock, tasting the pre-cum already dripping from it, humming to herself in delight. Her tongue sends pleasant shivers down your spine, licking and swirling around the head of your cock, each brush of her tongue achingly spurring you to an impossible hardness.

She knows you, knows just how you like it, knows where to lick, to kiss, to suck, and knows just the right pace to take each and every inch of you into her small, welcoming, warm mouth. You tangle your fingers in her lush hair, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of her looking up at you, deep, dark pools needing nothing from you except to enjoy the feeling of her mouth wrapped around you.

Tell me how good this feels.

A groan escapes your mouth when you feel your cock hit the back of her throat, and her nose presses against your base, lips kissing the bottom of your cock. You can see her eyes water, but she holds herself there, holds herself against you, making sure you get the most out of the experience of being hilt deep in Irene's exquisite mouth.

She withdraws her mouth from you, tantalisingly slow, lustful eyes enjoying every harsh breath that escapes you as her lipstick smears up the length of your shaft.

She never lets you escape her mouth, letting the tip remain kissing her lips, before she swallows you into her again, slowly, steadily, developing a rhythmic bob onto you.

Irene sucks with purpose, with experience, with skill, her mouth moving at just the right angle to fit your entirety inside of her, her tongue swirling and lapping around you to tingle your nerves in an incredibly sensual way.

She moans around you, the sound escaping her sealed lips as she works her way up and down your length, ensuring not an inch of you goes unmarked by her tongue. She lovingly takes you in her mouth, smothering your cock with her spit, determined to take you as close to the edge as possible with her sucking.

It feels almost wrong, to violate such a beautiful work of art in such an obscene manner, but that thought almost immediately leaves your mind when her pace suddenly quickens, her fingers dig into your thighs, and she lets you truly fuck her face.

The room is filled with sounds of slurps and gags and wetness from Irene as she pumps your cock in and out of her, letting the saliva dribble out of her mouth and lather onto your balls and thighs, eager to swallow you into her faster and faster.

Still, your cock never leaves her needy mouth, and she never lets you take control, mercilessly drawing aches of mind-numbing pleasure as she forces your cock to thrust quicker, to fuck her face harder, to pound into her until her lovely mouth is reduced to being nothing but a receptacle for your cock.

This mouth belongs to you.

You can feel yourself getting close, the pressure building into you—it's all too much, feels way too good, Irene's blowjobs are masterpieces in and of itself, hitting every single one of your weak points, causing your knees to shake as she takes in full down her throat. It hasn't been that long but you're already almost there and  just when you think the dams are about to break, your cock leaves her lips with an audible pop, and you are unable to stop the groan of disappointment that leaves your mouth.

She grins up at you, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to the head of your cock, her face awash with the tell-tale signs of a good face fuck—tears, runny make-up, glistening sweat, yet still immaculate hair.

There's only one place I want your cum tonight.

She rises before you, pushing herself up against your thighs and to her feet, her eyes beckoning you closer to her.

Feel how wet I am.

The city lights outside splash against her perfect form, highlighting the glistening of her juices already beginning to drip from her pussy and run down her thighs.

It was always a big turn on for Irene to give you a blowjob—not just because she enjoyed the feeling of your hard cock in her mouth, but also the power and control it gave her over you, the ability to make you feel unbelievable pleasure and please you like only she could.

You avert your eyes from her gaze and let them rest on her pussy, reaching a hand around to grab her wonderfully tight, little ass and pull her closer to you.

She yelps slightly as she stumbles forward into you, bracing herself on your shoulders, and then letting loose a long, satisfied moan as your fingers brush against her dripping, hot, needy pussy.

You know just how to touch me.

You know exactly where her clit is, finding the erect nub and gently stimulating it with your thumb. She melts in the palm of your hands, staining your fingers with her juices while you play with the folds of her pussy. Wordless gasps of pleasure leave her as you find her entrance with your index finger, wasting no time to push past the slight resistance and feel her heat around your digits.

She moans as her hips quiver and tremble around you as you slowly push your fingers up and into her juicy pussy. Her hips adjust slightly in your hand, and she sinks down on your fingers, and begins to grind on you.

You love the feeling of her ass in one hand, making the most of its firmness, perfectly nestled in your palm, while your other dextrously plays her pussy like the finest musical instrument, each note an exasperated, elated whimper.

A sudden realisation causes Irene to focus, and she seems to regain some senses and stops you, grabbing your wrist with her hand.

Not like this. Enough with the foreplay. I need more than that.

You are never one to disobey orders, especially when they involve fucking Irene, and you pull her forward into your arms, wrapping tightly around her. In one swift, clean motion, you spin her around, throwing her onto the bed and below you, until she's lying face-up, with you above her, on-top of the most breathtakingly flawless girl you've had the fortune of sharing a bed with.

Now take what's yours.

You crush your lips against hers, her mouth opens to let your tongue slip past her lips, letting you explore her mouth as you line up your tip with her needy, wanting entrance. Her sopping wet pussy is more than inviting to your cock, drawing out a sharp exhalation from her as you push into her. No matter how frequently you fuck her, Irene's always tight, the tightest pussy you've ever been blessed to experience, and just as ridiculously wet for you. Her pussy moulds itself around you, clenching to each inch that you push in, the warmth of her walls rippling around your shaft, nearly sending you over the edge.

You resist the urge to cum there and then inside her, instead choosing to focus on Irene, the beautiful girl before you reduced to a quivering, trembling mess. Her fingers grasp for the sheets, knuckles white with the tightness of her grip. Her wonderfully tight body tenses up beneath you and her face contorts in complete, utter pleasure. Her eyes are clenched shut, her mouth frozen in an O-shape, short, hot breaths leaving her mouth as you sink further and further into her.

You move, slowly at first, easing yourself into her, but still delighting in putting a little bit of emphasis on the extra pump that pushes your last inch into her, causing her tits to bounce in a wondrously satisfying way, taking sharp moans from her as her body tightens and tenses around you.

Eventually, she loosens her grip on the bedsheets and wraps her arms tightly around your neck, while simultaneously folding her legs across your back, holding herself against you. Her body is hot and right in your arms, her face nestled in your neck, her lips against your skin, her racing heartbeat thumping against your chest.

Make love to me.

You and Irene have a long, storied history of sex—from fast, frenzied, end-of-the-world type sex, to multiple days of drawn-out lovemaking; in every room of your shared penthouse apartment to every possible public location—trains, boats, cars—even a plane—but sometimes, there was nothing better than sweet, passionate, fucking.

She kisses your neck, whispering formless words, sometimes just moans, sometimes just your name, but all sounds just different ways to vocalise how pleadingly, desperately she needs you to fuck her.

You feel so fucking good inside me.

You begin to quicken your pace, letting her body adjust to you, moulding itself around you as you hungrily make the most of the heat of her pussy around you.

You find a new rhythm, thrusting in and out of her tight, hot pussy, listening to her increasingly loud moans, feeling her fingers explore the muscles of your back, her lips marking your skin as hers as she attempts to muffle herself against your body.

You lift your head, clashing your lips with her once again, this time kissing her with urgency, and Irene immediately mirrors you, fiercely taking your tongue with her own, pulling you down by the neck and pressing her petite body up against you.

I want you, all of you, please use me.

Fucking Irene is so easy, feels so right, she takes your full length in and out of her body with ease, her pussy, her entire body, seems divinely designed to take your cock deep into her hot, wet cunt. You let your hands drift up her sides, finding a grip on her shoulders, getting better leverage to thrust into her harder, deeper, slamming moans out of her body and echoing across the room.

You fuck me so good!

Your mind is overcome with hunger, driven by the sensation of Irene on your cock. Each slam against her pussy makes her body quiver and melt in your arms, her pussy tightening and pulsating around you, her soaking, wet sex drenching you, telling you how wild she was for you, how crazy she was for you and your cock.

So deep inside me... So fucking deep! So -

Irene's body freezes, overwhelmed with pleasure that pushes past her breaking point. Her legs tighten behind you, her arms pull you into her, squeezing her breasts against your chest, and her pussy clenches around your cock, trembling and shaking. When Irene cums she cums hard—she throws her head back, mouth open in a breathless moan, a long, drawn-out exhalation of satisfaction and complete ecstasy leaving her as her orgasm breaks her.

You don't know how much time passes, content to ride out her orgasm with her, letting her body writhe beneath you and around you, loving the experience of getting to see her drunk on your cock.

Eventually, the aftershocks end and her arms fall to her sides, her legs let loose their hold on your back, and she rests her back on the bed. Her eyes, once clenched shut, lost in the passion of your fucking, slowly open, flush with love, desire, and lust.

My turn to make you feel good.

Irene surprises you with her sudden show of strength, pressing her leg to the bed and pushing hard enough to roll you onto your back, until you're now looking up at her, a naughty, mischievous smile on her face.

She pushes herself up from you, knees on either side of your thighs, back straight up to give you the amazing view of her small, delicious breasts under the artificial lights streaming through the window. Perfection is the word that runs through your mind when you witness the visage of Irene on top of you, her tight, young body, lithe and graceful, impaling herself on your cock, want nothing more to ride you, make love to you, needing nothing but to fuck you.

Lie back, let me take this—I fucking need this.

She takes control, rocking her hips up and down your cock, arching her back in the perfect way to angle her pussy to take as much of your cock as possible. You raise your hands to her breasts, squeezing the soft, precious flesh as she works her way on top of you.

Irene is far too good, far too skilled at riding you, each collision of her cunt against your hips shoots shockwaves of arousal through you. Her pussy feels incredible while she rides you, moistening and squeezing around you as you enter and exit her body.

You feel so big inside me, baby.

It's on top of you when Irene feels the tightest, and you do your best to push more and more of yourself inside her, finding new ways to reach deeper into her hot, earth-shatteringly fuckable body.

You can't help yourself, seeing her taut, erect nipples bounce in time with your fucking is too much, and you sit up to take one of her hardened buds into your mouth forcing a sound from Irene's mouth that is both primal and animalistic.

Fuck baby, that's cheating!

You match her hips with your own, bouncing her on top of you as you feast on her nipples, tasting her exquisite body while fucking her without abandon. Your tongue swirls around her nipple, there's no rhythm or pace to it, you simply indulge as much as you can in her, enjoying her sighs and gasps that fill your ears while you taste her and fuck her.

You don't just taste her nipples, you kiss her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her lips. It's all too much and not enough at once, your head is an empty haze clouded by the feeling of Irene's grasping pussy driving you towards an oncoming climax.

Fuck me harder! Take me!

She begs for it, wants it, whispers her need to have you fill her, make her feel complete in the way only you know how. She pushes your shoulders back slightly, pushing your mouth off her body, resting her hands around your neck so that she can meet you eye to eye and communicate the one truth between the two of yours.

I'm yours—only yours! Just please, give it to me!

She cradles your face in her small hands, holding your eyes in hers, freezing the two of you in this moment where you are the only two people that matter, the connection of your body to hers is the thread that holds your entire worlds together.

You lose yourself in her, lose yourself in the sounds of her final gasps in your ear, her moans of your name mixing in with groans of your own, the warmth of her body collapsing into yours, the only thing that exists is the feeling of her heat surrounding you, tightening and trembling in the most desperate of ways around your cock, pulsating faster and faster in an attempt to draw as much of you into her as possible.

Please, cum for me!

Her body shakes around you as you bury yourself into her, falling deep inside as every wall inside you breaks all at once, pleasure rips through your body and up into Irene, forcing your cum to flow out of you and deep into her.

She suddenly tightens around you, every muscle tenses, clenching around you in agonising pleasure as she takes shot after shot of your cum, until finally she releases as well, her body dissolves into a quivering, quaking mess on top of you, rocking her with her own orgasm as a long, drawn-out sigh leaves her in tandem with your own cum overflowing out of her. It spills all past her plump pussy lips and dribbles down her thighs and onto your base, mixing with her own juices and pooling beneath the two of you in a puddle of sex.

Moments pass before you let go of the breath you had no idea you were holding, and both your bodies relax and fall into each other.

She collapses on top of you, naked body pressed against your skin, your cock still inside her, still a part of her.

Neither of you want this night to end—especially as it's now when Irene is most beautiful.

This is the Irene that makes you feel like the luckiest man alive—her petite, well-fucked body heaving with heavy breaths on top of you, glistening with sweat, juices and cum, bathed in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

She smiles at you, a sweet, devastating thing, her eyes looking at you in a way only she can—conveying in a simple gaze the years of companionship, of intimacy, of love you have built together.

You take your free hand, brushing off the loose strand of hair daring to get in the way of her perfect face, and she brings her own hand up to hold your palm against her cheek. She turns into you, lightly kissing into your palm, holding your hand in hers.

She cranes her neck just a little, enough to bring her lips close enough to yours to kiss you once more, because no matter how many times you kiss, it will never be enough, yet it will always be too long until the next time.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

LEASH ft. Eunbi

While Eunbi is still wearing the sleeveless turtleneck, you pull and bunch it up in the middle of her chest, parting her tits. Her tits are exposed through the armholes, the bunched-up turtleneck becomes a make-shift leash at the front as you fuck her. Are you going rough or soft on her? How are you going to have sex while one of your hands is on her 'leash'?

eunbi x male reader smut.

1k words

"You belong to me, Eunbi," you say through gritted teeth, barely able to get the words out between thrusts into her round, juicy ass.

Your unforgiving violation of Eunbi's ass was as much for her as it was for you—this wasn't just what she needed, this was what she deserved.

Judging by her face through the stained bathroom mirror—her eyes glazed over with lust and pain and pleasure, her mouth hanging half-open, nothing but moans and pleas escaping her lips  - you were right.

You hold onto her hips tightly, each stroke forcing as much of your cock into her shapely ass as possible, slamming her cheeks back against your hips, fighting against her extremely tight hole. The collision of her ass against your hips echoes off the walls of the public restroom—the old, dirty bathroom the perfect venue for your fucking.

"So—fucking—good!" Eunbi cries out, as if you're fucking each word out of her pretty red lips. "So—fucking—big—in—my—ass!"

Eunbi's ass feels so hot and tight around you, like it was designed perfectly for your cock, able to smoothly take you in and out, while still choking your cock in it's wonderfully tight grasp. You nearly lose yourself inside that wonderful feeling, you could fuck her ass for hours—days if you had to.

But it's Eunbi's cries that bring you back to reality—she has no care for the risk of anyone who could be outside the public bathroom, let alone anyone that could come in. Yes, you had locked the door, but the door was so old it was basically useless.

You turn your attention back to not just how good Eunbi feels to fuck, but on Eunbi herself—seeing the dark-haired beauty brace herself on the sink before her, the sink creaking as you pound into her, poorly suited to handle such rough treatment.

You can feel her knees begin to shake under her, her arms begin to weaken—that wouldn't do. You need her on her feet and taking your cock with her tight, squeezing asshole.

You get an idea, grabbing the back of her top—a black, sleeveless turtleneck. You were both barely undressed—desperate to start fucking her ass as soon as possible you had only opted to free the necessary parts—your pants unzipped to free your cock, and her own jeans and panties pooled around her ankles.

You yank her upwards, pulling her back upright, her top stretching and ripping—the fabric was not built for this punishment. Not like Eunbi.

Her top tears at the sides, somehow bunching up in the middle of her chest, freeing her bountiful, large, round breasts through the torn armholes, displaying through the mirror the most perfect pair of tits you've ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Your cock swells even harder inside her at the sight of her exposed chest, causing Eunbi to gasp in delight as you push far deeper into her while pulling her back against you, her once-top now a makeshift leash, causing her back to arch in the most divine way and her perfect breasts to thrust out even further, proudly showing off their full, glorious size.

You want them in your hands and in your mouth—you want to feast on her breasts and greedily take them for yourself, you want them squeezing against either side of your cock, but most of all—you want them painted white with your cum.

But that would all come in time.

For now, just the sight of her magnificent breasts haphazardly clapping together with each push into her wondrous ass hypnotises you, triggers your most basic, primal instincts telling you to dominate, to conquer, to fuck.

"Oh—god—yes—please—fuck—me—harder!"

Every word spurs you, you know you're in control—her ass is yours to break, to do whatever the fuck you want with it, but you can't help but comply with her deepest desires and fuck her like she wanted - faster, harder.

Your pace increases, consumed in the feeling of taking such a gorgeous woman from behind, her voice crying out in ecstasy, crying out your name, pleading for you to fuck her clenching hole, only wanting one thing—more.

"Keep—fucking—my—ass—baby! Keep—fucking—me—just—like—that!"

You find yourself growing mad at her—she isn't in any place to be giving instructions—she's yours to fuck, however you want to. She yelps as you tighten the leash around her, priming her into the perfect position to—smack!

"OH - FUCK!"

Eunbi cries out when you bring your hand down on her, instantly reddening her ass.

"Your mouth,"  you growl.

SMACK!

"Your tits," you continue.

SMACK!

"Your cunt,"

SMACK!

"and this fucking ass."

You punctuate your point by pulling back harder on her leash so her back is against you, and you take one of her hanging breasts into your free hand, ruthlessly squeezing into the ample flesh, relishing the feeling of it in your hands.

You whisper harshly into Eunbi's ears. "Mine."

You can feel something break in Eunbi, the pain of your hard strikes against her ass reduces her to a mewling mess against you, on the verge of utter euphoria.

"Ye—yes!" Eunbi barely manages to moan out the word, too absorbed in your unrelenting pounding. "I'm—sorry. It's all—I'm all—yours! Just please—please I'm gonna—gonna -"

"Do it," you command. "Cum."

You can't help but be captivated by the look on Eunbi's face in the mirror, her beautiful features contorted with pleasure, wrecked and overcome by being fucked so intensely. Her entire body starts to shake, uncontrollably quivering and trembling against you as pure bliss washes over her.

"OH FUUUUUUCK!"

You let her ride out her own orgasm, holding her leash taut enough to keep her upright, bearing witness to the rise and fall of her perfect breasts as she heaves deep breaths through every tremble and quake. You can barely hold back your own orgasm, your senses already beginning to overload from the feeling of the agonisingly delightful contractions and vibrations of her ass around you.

"Use me—please!" Eunbi begs for you, expressing her want, her need for you. "Cum in me—take my ass, I've been so good!"

The feeling of her ass around you is far too good, far too much, and with one, final triumphant thrust you bury your cock deep into her, yanking her leash back, drawing a moan loud enough to bounce off the walls of the bathroom.

"FUCK!" Eunbi cries out as you pull her back into you, her orgasm coursing through her body as her ass clenches impossibly tight around your cock. It overwhelms you, blanks your mind—it shouldn't be possible to feel this fucking good.

You barely register your own cock pulsating, firing shot after shot of your seed deep inside Eunbi's tight hole. Your cum spills out from her ass, leaking out from around your cock, dripping down her soft, white thighs.

It takes a few breaths for you to regain your thoughts, and you look into your hands to see that you're holding what remains of Eunbi's tattered leash, now completely ripped from her body.

Eunbi falls to the ground, no longer having her leash to hold up, not even having the strength to brace herself on the sink, dropping to her knees in a naked, well-fucked mess.

Your cock slips out of her as she falls, drops of cum still hanging from the tip and falling to the ground with her.

You take in Eunbi—a band of loose, black fabric is still around her waist, her top torn off her body to allow her large, teardrop breasts to hang freely. Cum glistens against her plump, red ass-cheeks, still dribbling from out of her hole.

You bend down and take her by the chin, tilting her head up so she can look you in the eyes. Her face is frozen in a post-fuck stupor, awash in the glow of a mind-breaking orgasm.

"You're mine, Eunbi—understand?"

She doesn't reply, too exhausted from being so thoroughly fucked, too breathless to say anything at all, and simply nods in response.

"Good."

Satisfied, you turn to leave, not before removing your jacket and tossing it over to her. It wouldn't do for others to see her like this.

No, that was for you, and for you only.

QUICKIE ft. Rosé

rosé x male reader smut

4k words

It's well past midnight when Rosé bursts into your apartment wearing nothing but a fur coat and pair of knee-high boots.

"Thank God you're home!"

"Rosé?"

"I need you. Now."

You barely have time to react to the sudden intrusion into your apartment before Rosé is already on you, pouncing on you in your small kitchen, backing you up against a counter and wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you down so she can take your lips.

Any protest you had is lost when her lips meet yours, a deliberate move on her part to stop you resisting, pressing her full, hungry lips against you, finding your tongue and dancing a familiar dance. Even in her heeled boots, she's almost a head shorter than you, and you wrap your arms around her back, lifting her up onto her toes to better make the most of Rosé's mouth.

She kisses you with urgency—with need—and you can feel her start to roll her hips against your crotch in an all-too-successful attempt to tempt you into feeding the dangerous addiction you had to her body.

Her fingers tangle themselves in your hair, and it takes every effort of will to separate yourself from her delectable lips and snap yourself out of the spell they've cast on you. Even once you've managed to free your lips from her own, she continues to kiss her way across your jaw, and then comes back down to her own feet to lay light kisses and whisper sweet nothings into your neck.

"Rosé." Your voice comes out hoarser, weaker than you expect, and so you repeat, with a little bit more firmness and authority, "Rosé."

"Yes, daddy?"

Fuck.

You've played this game, done this dance a million times before, but this time you would really put your foot down and make your feelings known.

You were more than just a one-stop shop for her to fulfil her carnal desires.

"What are you doing here so late?" You ask, and just when you think you've regained some composure, her elegant fingers find the growing bulge beneath your sweatpants, content to lightly trace the outline your stiffening erection is making underneath the cotton fabric.

"I had a gap in my schedule," she replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I came from a late photoshoot, and now I've got around half an hour to kill until I'm meant to be in the studio."

"And you thought you would use that time to come here?"

"I said I was hungry, my manager said I could have a break for a late-night snack."

"Fuck," you gasp as her fingers discover the waist band of your sweatpants, testing just how far it can stretch as she forces her hand in. You don't wear any underwear to bed, but at this point nothing short of a titanium-locked chastity belt would keep her hands away from your rapidly stiffening cock.

Rosé knows you—knows you in the way only someone who you’ve spent countless sleepless nights with can, and it’s the extent of her knowledge that makes you nearly melt in her hand the moment her fingers wrap themselves around the shaft of your cock.

"It's been too long." Rosé whispers between kisses against your collarbone, hand deep in your sweatpants, giving you long, winding strokes down your shaft, her other hand beneath your shirt, feeling it's way around your chest.

"It's been a week," you reply, a failure of a rebuttal.

"Too fucking long."

"You can't just come over whenever you want," you say, making a last ditch effort to resist, to set some boundaries, but now her hands are all over you, your t-shirt is already over your head, and she’s already started removing your sweatpants—how the fuck did she get you naked so quick?

"If you didn't want me over, why did you give me a key?" Rosé holds her tiny body against you, the fur of her coat brushing against your bare chest as she lays kisses on your pecs, trying to cover as much surface area of your body as possible.

"For emergencies."

"This is an emergency. Life or death."

"How is this life or death?"

Rosé stops her exploration of your body and lifts her head up to trap your eyes in her gaze. It's a serious problem how weak you are to her, how addicted you were to hearing the way she said your name, the way she looked at you with such need and want—with such love.

Roseanne Park was many things—a powerful voice in a small body, a passionate soul behind an angel face—but most of all, you had found her to be an insatiable fuck-buddy.

"Daddy. I'm dying for your cock."

Rosé takes a step back from you, letting you see her in full, making sure you have the best view as she brushes rose-gold locks off her shoulder and carefully unzips her coat. It's oversized on her small frame, covering a criminally large amount of her body, save for the glimpse of the creamy-white thighs peeking from between the hem of the coat and the tops of her boots.

She wastes no time -  Rosé never wasted any time—holding your gaze, your attention, as she barely unzips the coat halfway before it falls completely off her shoulders and lands in a heap around her feet.

You've seen Rosé's body many, many times before, but to see her exquisite nudity displayed just for you, in such sudden fashion, nearly causes an extremely premature heart attack.

Simply put, Rosé takes your breath away. She's built like a ballerina—small, so small that sometimes in your roughest sessions you're afraid you might break her, but you know what she lacks in physical strength and stature she makes up for in pure, animalistic desire.

She clasps her hands behind her back, making a point to thrust out her small, perky tits, highlighted with bite-sized pink nipples. If she were clothed it’d be a cute gesture, but everything about her—from her perfect, long legs, her thighs already glistening with juices dripping from her wet pussy, her small but still mouth-watering breasts, and her seductive eyes making no effort to hide her lustful hunger—it all exudes sex.

"Daddy, you're not going to kick me out after I came all this way?"

You gulp.

Rosé takes your lack of response as compliance, and leaves her boots on, stepping out of the coat around her ankles and coming close to you, so close you feel the tips of her perfect little breasts against your chest.

She takes your hand, guiding it down her body, past her waist, and between her thighs. She's hot—so fucking hot—and ludicrously wet, and lets out a long, satisfied sigh when she brings your fingers to the centre of her folds.

"Do you see how wet I am already, daddy? Only you make me this wet."

You know what she’s doing—know your ego is being played to, know you’re being manipulated into getting her what she wants—but would giving her what she wants be that bad?

Especially when ‘giving her what she wants’ entails burying yourself deep in Rosé’s hot, naked body.

You make up your mind, leaning into her, diving in and taking her right nipple into your mouth. She moans your name into your ear as you treat yourself to her wonderful, small mounds, her nipples growing stiff and tight between your lips with arousal.

"That feels so… right…"

She lets you indulge in her, indulge in her pretty nipples, licking and sucking her, drawing pleased quivers and sighs from her as she grabs the back of your head to pull you closer into her.

You can feel her grow wetter around your fingers, letting her juices flow freely from her pussy, her thighs closing on your hand, hips grinding against your palm. You dig your fingers into her, breaching her soaked entrance, easily sliding two digits inside and drawing a long gasp from her.

"Yes, feel me, feel how fucking wet I am for you."

You're more than familiar with the most intimate parts of Rosé's young body, and you quickly use your fingers to find the exact spot to make her say -

"Right fucking there!"

You don't let up your assault on her body, mercilessly violating her pussy with your fingers, using your thumb to deftly massage her clit, while switching your mouth to her other, neglected but just as wonderful breast, taking the nipple whole into your mouth.

Her breaths in your ears get shorter, harsher, and she grinds herself against you harder, faster, and you can feel her—feel her getting close, until something snaps her out of her pleasure and she first pushes against you, lifting your head off her nipple, now glistening with your saliva, and then she holds your wrist, stopping the fingers working at her pussy.

"Wait, not like this," she says, breathing deeply, face flushed red and already dripping in beads of sweat. "I came here to get fucked not fingered, daddy."

Rosé moves back from you, your fingers slipping out of her, and takes position at the sink opposite you. She turns around, turning her back on you, placing her hands against the sink to brace herself, purposefully pointing her ass upwards to give you the best view of her welcoming, soaking wet cunt.

You salivate at the sight of her, eyes glued to her perfect, long legs—absolute, creamy perfection.

"It may have been only a week for you, daddy, but every single second I didn't have my daddy's cock inside me has been torture."

You take a step forward, feeling the goose bumps rippling across her skin when you place a hand on her ass, lining up her needy pussy with your stiff cock.

Rosé gasps, her loudest yet, when the tip of your cock makes its first contact with her pussy for the night. She continues to moan softly, and you let her push herself back on you, sinking your cock inch by inch into her pussy, until you penetrate her fully, cock engulfed in her wet, slick, and incredibly tight entrance.

You always make a point to savour the wonderful feeling of Rosé’s pussy moulding itself around your cock, massaging your shaft as it stretches around you, feeling truly at one with her body.

She was absolutely right.

The incredible pleasure of being buried in her breath-taking pussy made every other moment not fucking her torturous.

"Yes… This is what I needed…" Rosé moans as you begin to work your way out of her pussy, the ridiculous tightness of her lips clenching around you as you pull yourself back, and then it's slickness easing you back in as you drive your cock forward.

You hold her hips, fucking her at a steady pace, taking time to relish in the hotness of her cunt around you. She's just as hot and tight as the first time you've fucked her, easily the tightest woman you’ve ever fucked, and it's the reason you keep letting her take advantage of you like this, even though it drives you insane each time she does.

Rosé let's out a loud, long moan as you bottom-out inside her—she may be world famous for her singing, but you can't imagine a better sound coming out of her mouth than her moaning your name in her unique accent.

You could fuck her like this all night, buried deep inside her tight, young body, but you can feel her hunger beneath you, and she turns her head so you can see the lust-crazed look on her side profile.

"I’m not here for you to make love to me, daddy," Rosé whines between heavy breaths, "I came here to be fucked."

You are more than willing to give her the fucking she needs, and you withdraw your cock out of her pussy in one last, slow draw, before forcefully, roughly slamming your cock back into her.

"Oh God!" Rosé cries out. "You're so fucking big!"

You grunt in response, gripping two handfuls of hot, idol ass, and fuck Rosé with quick, hard, and rough pumps, now completely overcome by an all-consuming need to give her the orgasm she had demanded from you.

You absorb yourself in the sounds of her moans as each hard thrust pushes her against the kitchen counter and causes ever-so-subtle shifts of muscles in her lovely, sweat-covered back. You can see her knuckles go white from gripping the metal sink, desperately holding on as you plunge yourself in and out of her all too willing pussy.

Her ass, small but tight, much like the rest of her, looks so unbelievably good in your hands, and you're mesmerised each time you slam into her, seeing the little bounce of her cheeks with each thrust. You give in to your base desires, lifting your right hand off her ass cheek, and bringing it straight back down with a swift slap.  

"Yes!" Rosé gasps when your hand meets her ass. "Spank me—spank my ass! Fuck me harder!"

You weren't going to stop no matter what she said, her ass was too willing, too irresistible, and you bring your hand down on her ass again; the echoes of your slap filling your kitchen, and her once milky-white cheek begins to turn bright pink.

"Fuck! Harder!"

Rosé's moans grow louder—teasing you, taunting you, pleading with you—and you bring your hand down again—"umph!"—and again—"daddy!"—and again—"so fucking good!".

Her words fade and become a mess of satisfied moans, which grow more and more frequent as you drive your cock into her faster and smack her ass harder.

"Pull my hair—smack my ass as hard as you want—fuck me however you want—just make me cum!"

Rosé relishes in your roughness, desperately chasing that line of euphoria between pain and pleasure. She begs you for more, both through her words and her cunt; walls tightening around your shaft, drenching your cock with its juices.

Rosé throws her head back, giving you the perfect opportunity to take her hair, gripping it into a makeshift ponytail, pulling her towards you and causing her back to arch, creating the most magnificent curve.

You roughly yank her hair back, pulling whole body back against you, wrapping your arms around her tight, roughly grabbing one of her breasts in the palm of your hand, your other hand going straight for her pussy, attacking her exposed, stiff clit.

"Yes! You fuck me so good, daddy!"

You bury your head in Rosé's neck, inhaling the citrus scent of her perfume, mixing in with the saltiness of her sweat and the stench of sex permeating throughout your apartment.

Rosé runs her hands through your hair as you lay kisses on her neck, losing herself in the overwhelming pleasure you are wreaking on her body—fondling her breast, teasing her clit with your fingers, stretching out her well-fucked pussy.

You know there's only so long you can fuck her at this rapid pace for, driving into her as hard and deep as you possibly can. You hear her breaths shorten, feel her thighs begin to shake, can see her muscles begin to stiffen and tense beneath you as she gets closer and closer to getting what she came for.

"Fuck—fuck me—fuck me, daddy -" Rosé gasps a final breath, and you pull her whole body back against you, wrapping your arms around her tight as you fuck her orgasm out of her—"daddy I'm going to—!"

Rosé's last words are lost on the tip of her tongue and replaced with a sharp inhale, and you hold her tight as her entire body convulses against you, a wave of pleasure swelling from her pussy and washing through her whole being. You ride out her orgasm with her, never stopping your pace, fucking her through each blissful quiver and tremor of her body, kissing the elegant curve of her neck, listening to her hurried breaths and satisfied moans.

Rosé's flexible enough to turn her head to meet yours, and you capture her lips, kissing her deeply through the dying whims of her orgasm, exploring the depths of each other’s mouths with your tongues. It's a sloppy, passionate kiss, with no rhyme or reason other than to be as connected as possible as you fuck her through her orgasm.

You never stop moving inside her, matching your strokes to the shakes of her body, slowing as the tremors begin to die down and her shivers become more and more subdued.

Her pussy is still pulsating around you when she breaks your kiss, and she collapses back against you. She trembles as she leans her weight against you, letting her exhausted body go limp for a moment.

Regrettably, your still erect cock slips out of her clenching pussy, her wet juices following after it, your shaft already drenched with her sweet nectar. Rosé takes a break to come to her senses, a few heavy inhales, until she lets her hands roam down behind her to take a hold of your cock.

"I haven't forgotten about you, daddy," she whispers, sounding almost worn out by your fucking. "I need to repay you for fucking me so good."

Rosé finds strength in her legs, standing on her own, gently backing you off her with a slight nudge. She turns, placing a palm against your chest and pressing you back into the kitchen counter behind you.

"In my mouth, daddy."

Rosé's eyes never leave you as she sinks to her knees in front of you—it's a look that you know will linger with you hours—days—after she's gone. it’s the look of an angel, divine and beautiful throughout, literally inviting you to fuck her face into oblivion.

You’re lost in her, so much so that you barely register the groan that escapes you the moment her soft, red lips wrap around the head of your cock.

"Mmmmmmmm…" Rosé moans around you, her tongue doing dangerous work, swirling around you as she starts to move her head up and down your cock. Her hands grip the back of your thighs, holding you steady against her, feeding you in and out of her mouth with long, agonisingly slow strokes.

To say Rosé knew what she was doing would be an understatement—Rosé was a master at making you cum with her mouth.

She knew how close you were, how easy it would be to make you explode in her mouth then and there—but that wasn't the point. She didn't just want you to cum, she wanted you to cum hard. She sucks you with purpose, finding the exact pace to make you weak in the knees, to tighten your grip in her hair, to make you mentally scream and beg to let you have your release.

You want nothing more than to grab her head with both your hands and fuck her face to your heart's content, but you know that this is as much for Rosé as it is for you—Rosé delighted in torturing you, in bringing your cock right to the edge with just her mouth, keeping you in such blissful agony.

It was never an act with Rosé—she hungered for your cock, loved every aspect of it, in whatever way she could get it.  

Moans escape Rosé's sealed lips each time she brings her wet, hot mouth down on you, bathing your cock in her spit as it pumps into her face. Her mouth never leaves your cock, drawing her face far enough so that your tip is pressed against her lips, and then pushing herself back down so her nose is pressed onto your chest.

She continues to take the entire length of your cock at this teasingly slow pace, lovingly sucking you in. You know for a fact that you've never had a blowjob as good as Rosé's—so unashamedly messy, leaving trails of saliva up and down you as she eagerly inhales you down her hot little mouth.

Finally, Rosé grants you what you've been waiting for, pushing her mouth onto you, urging your thighs forward into her face, allowing you the sweet relief of getting to really fuck her beautiful mouth.

Her plump lips smothers your length, her tongue doing extra work massaging the underside of your cock as she sucks you in and out of her. You feel the back of her throat, hear her slight gags, but she pushes past it, unrelenting as she bobs her head up and down on you.

Rosé feels the shaking in your thighs, knows you're close, knows you can't resist the amazing pleasure of her mouth on you, and picks up the pace, sucking you in deeper, faster, sliding you down her throat, her tongue continuing to work its insanely pleasurable magic.

You look down to realise Rosé's eyes have never left you, and it's her smile around your cock that hits you like a lightning bolt, her gorgeous eyes destroying what resolve you have left as her throat pulls you into her, and your walls completely break down.

You lose yourself in that triumphant smile and lustful eyes, and your legs nearly give way entirely while your hands tighten in her hair in an effort to brace yourself.

Your orgasm shoots through you hard, overwhelming you with the unbelievable feeling of cumming down Rosé's throat, firing shots of hot, thick semen into her waiting, wanting mouth. You paint the back of her throat with stream after stream, and you can feel her throat expand and contract as she greedily swallows each and every drop of cum out of you—fulfilling her desperate need to wring you completely dry.

"Mmmmph!" Satisfied noises leave Rosé's mouth, vibrating around your cock, unable to hold back the dribbles of cum which spill out the corners of her lips.

She holds her mouth against you for a moment that you wish would last forever, her throat gagging so pleasantly around you, until finally, she releases you, letting your cock leave her mouth with a small pop.

She pauses, making sure your eyes are on her as she makes a show of swallowing the remainder of cum still in her throat, and then wiping and lapping up the mess that has spilt on her cheeks and down her chin.

Rosé returns to your cock, dragging her tongue along your shaft, collecting the mix of semen, saliva, and her own juices, thoroughly licking your drained cock clean. She slurps the cocktail down like it's the most delicious drink she's ever had, and her eyes make you believe it.

Deciding your cock has been properly serviced, she kisses her way up your body, each point of contact between her lips and your skin sending delightful tingles up and down your spine. When she's back on her feet, she gently grips your shoulders and brings you down to her level, still having to stand on her own toes to give you a light peck on your lips.

The next few moments are a blur—you can barely think straight as you lean into the counter for support, Rosé's hot and sweaty body pressed against you, and you idly play with her tight ass.

But her phone, buried somewhere in her forgotten fur coat, disregards your wishes with its ringing and brings you back to reality. You feel Rosé’s naked body against you, feel her warmth, her breaths against your skin, the racing beat of her heart, before she reluctantly steps back out of your grasp.

"That's my ride."

Rosé picks up her coat, putting it back on as easily as it came off, unceremoniously covering her naked body.

Her eyes linger on you, taking one last look at you, taking her time to scan you from head to toe, as if making her own mental snapshot of you in your birthday suit. She bites her lip, embers of the lust and hunger which she brought with her when she first came to you still burning inside her, and it's almost enough to make you want to grab her, pin her down, and make sure to fuck her into forgetting she has anywhere else to be.

But the moment passes, and Rosé seems to recognise it too.

"Thanks for the snack, daddy."

"My door's always open, Rosé."

"In that case," Rosé smiles, the embers of lust beginning to ignite and burn fiercely again, "maybe I'll see you in the morning for breakfast?"

BREAKFAST ft. Jennie & Rosé

jennie x rosé x male reader smut

8k words

It's not the slight breeze blowing through the open window that wakes you, nor is it the sounds of the lively Parisian streets outside your hotel.

No—it's the lips of Jennie Kim softly pressing against your chest that stirs you awake.

"Good morning." Jennie beams up at you, her smile far more radiant than the sunlight bathing her naked, heaven-sent body. She's already wrapped around you, a leg thrown over your thigh, an arm hugging your torso, and her perfect, bite-sized breasts pressed against your side.

"I think I must still be dreaming," you mumble, rubbing your half-open eyes, as if that would somehow wake you proper.

"What makes you think that?" Jennie asks, laying soft kisses onto your chest. Her words alone are like honey to your ears, and made even more charming by her accent.

"Because this is too good to be true," you answer. "Waking up next to a beautiful, naked woman—either I died and went to heaven, or this is a dream."

Jennie doesn't answer you with words, she manoeuvres herself around you, snaking her hand downwards and under the sheer white bedsheet, finding the part of you that is already more than ready for the morning.

"I don't know about that," Jennie says, and she giggles as her dainty fingers reintroduce themselves to your growing cock, "this feels pretty real to me."

You can't hold back the groan that escapes your mouth as Jennie's delicate hand begins to slowly pump up and down the length of your entire cock. Her touch is slow and deliberate, taking her time to make sure she covers your shaft in it's entirety, sinking her hand all the way to the bottom of your cock, and twisting her wrist slightly as she strokes you all the way back to the tip.

Jennie shifts her way up your body, never letting go of your cock, never stopping her steady stroking of you, sliding up so you're eye level with her, staring deep into her hazel pools, somehow more bright and vibrant underneath the morning light.

It's impossible not to fall in love with her all over again—she can hold you in her gaze like no other, seducing you with her eyes alone, communicating love, lust, and absolute desire. She even smells divine—wearing the scents of vanilla and loveliness and last night's torrid adventures.

"Still think you're dreaming, daddy?"

You're caught off guard when her soft lips press against yours, too distracted by her eyes to see the kiss coming. But she makes it easy for you—her gentle kiss beginning as slow pecks, to eventually parting your lips, until she pushes past your mouth and slides her tongue in, entangling itself with your own.

You take her into your arms, wrapping around her and pulling her into you, needing to indulge in Jennie's sweet lips. She moans into your mouth, and you groan back as her grip around your cock becomes tighter, and you can feel yourself grow to your full length in the palm of her small hand.

It's not long before her kisses become hot and passionate, her lips pressing harder against you, wanting to taste you as much as you want to taste her, meeting you with a fierce desire and need. It should be a crime to feel this good so early in the morning, and from the feel of her taut, stiff nipples against your chest and the way she starts to grind her hips against your thigh—Jennie seems to be feeling the same way too.

It's over too soon when Jennie breaks your kiss, unable to hold back the naughty smile on her face, no doubt a mirror of the one on your own. She bites her lip, so simple, yet so fucking effective, and you lean forwards to try and capture her lips again, but this time Jennie stops you.

"No, daddy," Jennie says, gently placing a hand on your chest, pushing you back into the bed. "Let me continue this dream a little longer."

You lay back down on the bed, setting Jennie free of your hold on her, and she proceeds to move her way down your body, leaving light kisses on her way down—on your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, down your chest, and finally her lips meet the head of your cock, reminding you why it's always a smart idea to forgo any clothing before getting into bed with Jennie.

Her hand remains on your shaft, far too small to fully grab hold of it, but enough to position the object of her desire upwards towards her, close enough to her lips for you to feel the warmth of her breath on the tip, and for her to taste the beginnings of pre-cum leaking out of you.

She opens her mouth wide for you, making sure you have the full, overwhelmingly erotic view of the saliva sliding down her extended tongue and dripping onto the tip of your cock. She lets it linger there, the connective bridge between your cock and her mouth until finally, satisfied with your glistening erection, she presses her tongue down against you, swirling her tongue around the head of your cock.

"Fuck, Jennie," you moan involuntarily, not missing Jennie's smirk as she opens her mouth wider to take your cock into her mouth, gifting you with the feeling of warmth and wetness, and the expert motions of her tongue around you.

It's a point of pride for Jennie—how good she can make you feel with her mouth, how well she knows your weak spots, how weak and powerless she can make you feel with just her tongue.

And she's right to be that proud—her blowjobs are otherworldly, as eager as they are erotic. She pins you down to your bed with just her gaze, making you watch as she takes you in your entirety into her mouth, stroking the bottom of your shaft with one hand, and skilfully massaging your balls with her other.

There not an inch of your cock that isn't somehow being stimulated by Jennie, the only time her mouth leaves your cock is to moan for you, to tell you just how good it made her feel to make you feel good.

"I love this perfect cock," Jennie purrs between kisses and swipes of her tongue around you, making sure to properly lather and bathe your cock in her spit. She moves her face down, pressing her tongue against the base of your cock, before dragging her tongue up your length, leaving behind a trail of saliva.

When she reaches the head of your cock she pauses, taking in a deep breath before taking you into her mouth again, pushing her red lips further and further down you. It's no small feat at how she manages to take your full length into her small mouth, so deep that her lips kiss against your skin, sending surges of pleasure coursing through your body.

She finds a pace as she works your cock with her mouth, taking an extra inch once, bobbing her head back up, then taking a further inch again, backing off once more. It's a technique that works all too well, and you can feel your own hips bucking, desperately urging her to take more and more of your shaft down her throat, ignoring her slight gags and gurgles as she finally manages to swallow you down completely.

Her tongue and her lips stay tight around you, sealing you in her mouth, while her hands continue to massage your balls, to stimulate the places her lips haven't reached yet, fully dedicating herself to pleasure you.

You reach out for her, running a hand through her luscious dark hair, helping her work her way up and down your cock, helping her to reach a steady pace to pump into her face with your cock.

"Jennie," you breathe. For all Jennie's talents at stimulation, where she really shines is how willing she is to let you simply lay back and fuck her face.

She relaxes her throat, steadying herself on your thighs, and stops her movement, handing herself, or to be more exact—her mouth—over to you.

Her eyes are still latched onto yours, and in them you read her plea to be taken, to have her face fucked.

Her whole face lights up, her lips curl upwards, her eyes widen when your grip in her hair tightens, and you start to push in and out of her face faster. You bring her pretty face down your cock in time with your hips driving up into her warm mouth—it's all too much, and all too fast, and Jennie is truly happy to oblige.

You can't help yourself, your hips quickly losing rhythm, just thrusting up into her without abandon, without care for her—you were well acquainted with how much punishment Jennie's mouth could take from your cock.

Jennie doesn't complain a bit—not like she could, face fully stuffed—rather, she moans delightfully around you, her hands grip into your thighs and her fingers dig into your skin. The pain doesn't matter—you barely feel it—the sensation far overpowered by the slickness of her mouth, and the mess she's making around your cock.

"Fuck, you're so good at that, Jennie."

"Mmmmmphhh…" She groans around you as you bottom out with each pump into her, and you can feel yourself getting dangerously close to finishing.

The last thing you want is to cum so soon, despite how good Jennie's mouth feels. You decide to slow yourself down, palming the back of the head, and you force her face down on you, pressing her nose down against your stomach and making her take your entire length into her hot mouth.

You push up into her, and you can feel her throat clench around your cock as she gags, and for those few seconds nothing matters except for the intense pleasure of Jennie's face held down on your cock, nothing could possibly tear you away from this feeling except -

"I've got—oh."

The aroma of baked goods and coffee wafts into the room, and you're greeted by the sight of Rosé—the third resident of the hotel suite.

In one hand she holds a paper bag, the other, a carefully balanced tray of takeaway coffees.

She's barely dressed—her small frame wearing apparently nothing but one of your sweatshirts—oversized on her, almost reaching down to her knees. It was a common occurrence for Rosé to be comfortable in next to nothing, but it was enough—just the sight of her angel face framed by golden locks, and her creamy-white thighs poking out from under the hem of the jumper makes you swell inside Jennie's mouth.

"I was going to say I got us breakfast, but…" Rosé flashes a wicked grin, seeing the back of Jennie's head buried face-first in your lap. "Looks like Jennie's already having hers."

Your hands loosen from Jennie's hair, and you can't help the little sigh that escapes you when her lips leave your shaft. Your eyes meet Jennie's as her mouth separates from your cock, and you're taken aback by the expression on her face. To put it mildly—she looks annoyed.

Jennie turns her head, not caring about the string of saliva dangling from her lips, still connected to the tip of your cock, turning to address Rosé.

"Sorry for interrupting," Rosé says, reading the indignant look on Jennie's face. "Actually—you know what—I'm not. It's rude to get started without me."

"Early bird gets the worm, Rosie." Jennie teases, pulling her tongue out at her friend.

"I woke up early."

"And you chose to get take out," Jennie says, before giving a playful squeeze of your cock, eliciting another involuntary exclamation from you, "while I chose to eat in."

"Slut." Rosé fires.

"Daddy's slut," Jennie replies proudly. "Now that we're done addressing your rude interruption—are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to help me make daddy cum?"

It doesn't even take a second for Rosé to make up her mind—she never wasted any time whenever your cock was involved. It's impressive how quickly she does away with the breakfast she brought, discarding the items to a table at the side of the room, and how easily the sweatshirt is pulled off her body, tossed to a forgotten corner.

You gasp, both at the sight of her tight body and perky breasts on display and at the feeling of Jennie's wonderful mouth returning to your cock.

"Looks like you and the slut have been having some fun this morning, haven't you daddy?" Rosé asks, falling onto the bed with the two of you, shuffling off the short-shorts she had hidden underneath the sweatshirt.

She doesn't stop next to Jennie though, letting Jennie resume her slobbering work on you. Rosé meets you at the head of the bed, giving you a wide smile that makes your heart soar.

"I didn't get to give you a proper good morning," she says, and wraps her arms around your neck, planting a soft kiss on your lips. You pull her into your grasp, tasting coffee on her tongue as she falls deeper into your kiss, quickly becoming just as passionate and frenzied as your kiss with Jennie before.

You have no idea how you lucked into such a situation—in bed with the two physical incarnates of sex itself. You just knew that while you had them—one in your arms, and the other with your cock in her mouth—you were going to make the most of it.

A moan follows Rosé's lips when they separate from yours, and she litters your face with light kisses, stopping at your ear to whisper, "I can't let her do all the work."

Rosé smiles slyly at you, and kisses her way down your body, enjoying the shivers of pleasure she takes from you as her teeth meets your nipples and the goose bumps she triggers when she traces your abs with her tongue.

Jennie lifts her head when Rosé joins her, your cock leaving her lips, standing completely upright in between the faces of the two divine beauties—Jennie to it's right, Rosé to it's left.

As if they had choreographed it, they both turn to you at the same time, fixing you with lust filled gazes and unashamedly hungry smiles.

If succubi were real, they would be named Jennie and Rosé.

"Lie back and relax, daddy."

"Let us take care of you."

You decide it's best to do what they say, laying against the pillows, your head still tilted up so you can watch as Rosé lays her pink lips onto your cock under the watchful eye of Jennie next to her.

While Jennie worked you with skill and experience, Rosé simply hungered for your cock in her mouth, closing her lips around you and eagerly taking you in and out of her tightly-sealed lips. Rosé doesn't take you as deep as Jennie, gagging as she takes you halfway into her throat, but the tightness of her lips and the warmth of her pretty mouth makes you weak.

She takes a hold of you, moving her hands in a corkscrew motion, twisting her palms around you as she dips down on your shaft—moaning each time your cock touches the back of throat, loud enough that you idly begin to worry about that open window.

Your worries leave you as quickly as they came, as Jennie, not to be outdone, dives in on you, leaving kisses on the places Rosé can't reach, lapping at the base of your cock, it's underside, and your balls with her talented tongue.

It's truly astounding how in sync they work with each other—reading each other's intentions, patiently taking turns sucking you into their hot, wet mouths—lathering your cock with their tongues, filling your ears with the sounds of their sucking, their slurping, and their moans around you.

Your cock is never left untouched by either of their skilled mouths, putting you at complete mercy of their filthy movements around your shaft. There seems to be a silent competition between them, both aggressively attacking your cock with their tongues, determined to be the one that makes you groan the loudest.

They watch you the entire time, their eyes never leaving you, maintaining constant eye contact that is so hot and arousing that just their gaze alone would be enough to make you cum and paint their pretty faces.

"That feels so fucking good." You gasp, doing your best to keep your eyes open and watch as they move their gorgeous faces to either side of your cock, turning their heads to the side as they wrap their tongues around you, moving up and down in tandem. Your hands bury themselves in locks of golden and black, holding on as Rosé and Jennie trail their all the way from the bottom of your shaft to the tip, making sure to leave behind generous helpings of saliva as they do.

They work at a tantalisingly slow pace, and you want nothing more than to seize both of their skulls and fuck their faces into oblivion, but you let them continue their work, especially as you get to see their tongues meet at the head of your cock.

Jennie giggles as her tongue meets Rosé at the tip and she grabs the back of Rosé's head, pulling her into a torrid kiss, with your cock right at the centre of their two mouths. Whatever pleasure you felt before is eclipsed both by both the feeling and the sight of watching Rosé and Jennie sloppily make-out around your cock, their tongues entwining around your tip.

Your hands, still on the back of their heads, push them together, sandwiching your cock between their lips, feeling the drool leak from their tongues and down your shaft. They laugh and moan into each other as they kiss, the vibrations from their mouths sending shivers up your spine.

Rosé seems just as disappointed as you are when Jennie's lips leave both her and your cock, but Jennie ignores her silent protestations.

"Take care of this cock for me, Rosie," Jennie says, wiping a stray bit of drool of her chin, before turning to you. "I can feel how close you are, daddy. But I need you to take care of me too."

You know what Jennie wants—she more than deserves it already—and so you take Jennie's offered hand, bringing her up with you. You seize her by the waist, drawing her towards you so your lips can kiss her tight body, stealing a pleased sigh from her lips as you taste her naked chest. You kiss your way up to her small breasts, nipples so taut and tight, begging you to latch your mouth onto them.

You moan into her chest as Rosé takes you into her mouth again, one Jennie matches with a long, drawn out sight as you devour her right nipple with your tongue, sucking and licking away at the delicious mounds, her bud stiffening in your mouth at your touch.

"Daddy, not there—" Jennie moans, gently pushing your head away from her chest, back into the pillows, allowing her to spread her legs and bless you with the sight of her plump pussy lips, already glistening with signs of arousal. "Here, daddy. Eat me—please—I've been so good."

You know better than to keep Jennie waiting, and as much as you would love to burn the image of Jennie's pussy hovering over you into your mind, you instead take her thighs into your hands, guiding her to your mouth.

"Oh fuck!"

Jennie gasps the second your tongue presses against her pussy lips, and you are suddenly made aware of how wet she already is. You know Jennie's body so well, have dined on her pussy so many times, and knew if you wanted to you could have her reduced to a mess in moments. Instead you decide to enjoy yourself, playfully teasing out her juices with your tongue, running along her folds.

Jennie writhes and moans on your face as you lick her pussy from the very bottom to the top, drinking down the freely flowing juices out of her pussy. Jennie's soft hands find the back of your head, holding on and riding your mouth like a saddle, rolling her hips onto your chin.

While you can barely see her face as her back arches while she rides you, you can see enough to see her closed eyes, lost in the throes of ecstasy, her mouth hanging open and breathing heavy with each long lick.

"Stop playing with me, daddy. I need to cum."

Jennie spreads her thighs further for you, leaning slightly forward, allowing you unfettered access to her tiny clit. You lick your lips, tasting nothing but Jennie, and you bring her waist closer into you and press the flat of your tongue against her, completely smothering her clit.

"That's it, right fucking there."

You close your lips around her clit, forming a seal around it, happily darting out your tongue against her, making the most of her oohs and aahs as you please her.

"Fuck," Jennie moans, "you're so good at that."

Your reply is muffled by her wetness, but you still moan against her nevertheless, as Rosé doubles her efforts on your cock below. As occupied as you are by Jennie's pussy, Rosé makes a strong argument for your attention, as her lips, pursed tightly around you, is joined by her hand, pumping the base of your cock in time with your entry and exit into her mouth.

Rosé doesn't see a need at all to tease, freely pumping your cock into her hot, slick mouth, every pump bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You were already close before, but Rosé's mouth takes you right to the precipice of your own orgasm.

You try to distract yourself with Jennie's pussy, directing all the pleasure Rosé is giving you from your cock into Jennie, matching Rosé's enthusiastic sucks with your own against Jennie's clit, moaning into her delicious cunt as you lap away at her clit with fervour.

Still, despite your most valiant attempts to hold back, Rosé is far too good with her mouth, far too skilled, and it becomes harder and harder to ignore the sounds of her slurping and sucking away at you filling your ears.

You can feel your thighs begin to shake, your body fighting you, wanting you to give over to your basest desire to fill Rosé's mouth with your seed.

Jennie seems to have arrived at a similar conclusion, and even though you've lost your rhythm and are just wildly swiping along her drenched pussy with your tongue, her pleas increase in number and volume, and you can feel her get wetter and wetter, and hotter and hotter under your tongue.

"F—Fuck! P -"

"Pl- please don't stop -"

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna—I'm gonna -"

Rosé picks her perfect moment to strike, taking you—your full length—down her throat, letting you feel the pleasure of her throat clench and contract around your cock, pushing herself to take you in, swallowing you whole.

It's too overwhelming—Rosé's hot mouth consuming your whole cock in it's slick warmth, and Jennie, her hips quivering and trembling over your face, her pussy desperately grinding against your tongue.

You reach around to grab handfuls of Jennie's tight ass as your senses overload, and you groan into Jennie's pussy as Rosé buries your cock down her throat and you fire shot after shot of cum down Rosé's welcoming mouth. You feel the immense pleasure throughout your whole body, and you close your eyes, savouring the feeling of her mouth gagging around you, her cheeks puffing out as they're filled with your semen painting the back of her throat.

Jennie takes the opportunity to seize your head with both her hands, and her thighs—her soft, warm thighs—clamp down on either side of your face, doing all she can to push as much of herself into your mouth as possible, chasing and finding her own climax on your tongue, loosening a loud sigh of relief as she reaches the summit of her own pleasure.

"Fuh—fuuuuuck." Jennie moans endlessly as her juices flood your mouth, filling you with the taste of Jennie Kim, as fucking hot and erotic as the girl herself. Her body shakes, losing herself to her own orgasm, unashamedly rocking against your tongue without restraint.

Jennie spends several moments like that, quivering atop you, sighing and mewling as you leave soft kisses on her lovely thighs, now stained with her juices and your saliva. She collapses over you, bracing herself against the bed's headboard, and it's Rosé that brings the two of you back to reality.

Jennie's hips leave you, moving herself down and off you, no longer threatening to suffocate you with her thighs—not that that would be a bad way to go out at all. You recover your breath back on the bed, and see Rosé, now level with Jennie, wearing a particularly lewd smile on her face.

You're mind is still far too spent to process what's happening, and Jennie seems to be in a similar state of exhaustion. Rosé simply ignores Jennie's current state of being, taking the back of her head and roughly pressing her lips to hers.

Jennie's eyes widen as the blonde forces her own tongue into Jennie's mouth, roughly pushing her tongue past her lips and forcing Jennie into a deep kiss. Rosé's eyes seeks your own, capturing your gaze, making sure you witness the exact moment her tongue enters Jennie's mouth, and ensuring you see the thick, white cum—your cum—that she forces down Jennie's throat.

It takes a second for Jennie to realise what Rosé's doing, but she adapts quickly, taking Rosé's cute face into her hands and opening her own mouth wide, darting out her tongue so she can get her fill of your cum out of Rosé's pretty little mouth.

It's a feast for your eyes, watching their tongues duel each other, your cum trading from mouth to mouth, faces fraught with pleasure as their hands begin to wander along each others bodies, touching and teasing nipples, slapping and gripping asses, fingers finding the most tender parts of the other's drenched pussies—and it all happens right in front of you.

You're unable to resist stroking yourself—you thought you were spent before, but Jennie and Rosé quickly dispel that idea, and you can feel yourself slowly, but surely, begin to harden. You're more than happy to lie back and watch as Jennie leads Rosé along a pathway of pleasure, peppering her with sweet kisses and soft teases.

Jennie and Rosé take their time—there's plenty of time—tenderly exploring each other's nubile bodies with their hands and their lips, and after one of the greatest performances you've ever had the pleasure of viewing, Jennie's lips leave Rosé's, and Jennie turns to you, delighted to see your enjoyment of the show.

"She's so wet for you, daddy," Jennie whispers, her fingers having found the most sensitive parts of Rosé's pussy, running circles over the younger girl's folds. Rosé falls back into the bed under Jennie's touch, and her legs open wide for you, her pussy facing directly at you as Jennie spreads her lips apart.

Jennie's seductive eyes beckon you, and like a man possessed you move over to Rosé, eventually finding your place kneeling at the altar of Rosé's cunt.

Jennie takes you by the cock, bringing your hips forward, lining you up directly with Rosé's waiting pussy, smearing the beginnings of her juices onto the tip of your cock.

"She's all warmed up," Jennie says, admiring her own work, as Rosé lies back in wait of you. "Are you ready for daddy to fuck you, Rosie?"

"Yes,' Rosé sighs, "please."

"She asked so nicely, didn't she daddy?" Jennie pulls your cock forward, pressing you against Rosé's entrance, and all it takes is a little effort, and with one long, slow thrust, you smoothly enter Roseanne Park. She's soft, and warm—so fucking warm—all at once, her walls inviting you in, her pussy moulding itself around your cock, enveloping you in its wetness.

"Yesssss…" Rosé gasps as you completely impale her on your cock. You savour the look of utter satisfaction on her stunning face as your hips meet hers—her eyes clenched shut, her face flushed red, and her mouth suspended open. Her whole body reacts to your cock, her chest rises, her breasts thrust upwards, pointing her stiffened nipples up to the ceiling—the sight alone makes your mouth water.

You move slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to you filling her pussy. Rosé's hips rise to meet you, and Jennie has the practicality to take a pillow and move it under her, tilting her hips up so you can find the optimal angle for her to take you as deep as possible. Rosé moans approvingly, as you manage to hit her most sensitive areas, her angelic voice calling out your name when you manage to fuck her just how she needed to be fucked.

For all the times you've had sex with Rosé, you are still always surprised at how wet she gets for you, how easily she accepts your cock—like she was built to make love with you. You find your rhythm—steady, patient—enjoying the feeling of her walls rippling over each inch of your cock, and each of her panting breaths as you enter in and out of her.

"Feels so good…" Rosé says, revelling in the feeling of your cock inside her. "So deep inside me…"

You take her legs, lifting them upwards to angle her pussy up at you even higher, finding new depths to penetrate her, to give her the fucking she so badly needs.

Her legs are so long and perfect, and utterly irresistible, and while you'd like to spend the rest of the day worshipping her slender limbs, you settle for leaving a tender kiss against her porcelain-skinned feet.

You lose yourself in Rosé, in the feeling of her soft, warm pussy, in the pleased sounds that leave her with each thrust into her ludicrously tight body.

It's the sound of a second voice moaning that breaks your concentration, and you see Jennie, on her side watching you enter Rosé, her fingers working hastily between her own legs. You see the wave of pleasure wash over her face, having to force her eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of you fucking her friend.

It's not long before Jennie realises you've caught her, and her self-service turns into a performance just for you. Jennie makes a show of dragging her other hand up her slender body, daring you to even try to tear your eyes away from her as she finds her breast, pinching and playing with her dark pink nipple.

You grow even harder inside Rosé, now that you know you have an audience, you start to fuck her in earnest, teasing the raven-haired beauty at your side.

You don't fuck Rosé faster—in fact you slow your pace—you fuck her harder. You make a show of it, drawing yourself back the whole way so Jennie can see your entire length achingly leave Rosé's clenching pussy, until all that's left is the tip of your cock precariously balancing on the edge of Rosé's entrance. You smirk at Jennie's gawking at your cock, seeing her mouth begin to salivate at the sight, and then you drive your hips forward quickly—a swift, hard thrust, slamming straight into the depths of Rosé.

"Daddy, yes!" Rosé cries out, unaware of the reason of the sudden change of pace, only enjoying the now long, drawn-out strokes sawing in and out of her.

Jennie's eyes widen with each glimpse of you going in and out of Rosé, her fingers working harder on herself with each of your pistons in and out of Rosé's tight, slick pussy.

You want more of Rosé, as much of her as you can, and you want to put on a show for Jennie, show her how good you're fucking Rosé, to give her a preview of how good you're going to fuck Jennie next.

Rosé's arms reach out for you, and it's not even a question of accepting her. You scoop her up into your arms and bring her up with you. She embraces you, coiling herself around you, her legs locking behind your back trying to pull you deeper and deeper into her. You lay kisses into her lovely neck, tasting the salt of her sweat running down her warm, soft skin.

She presses herself tighter against you, wanting to join with you, to share her heat, her passion, to communicate her neediness for you to fill her whole.

A spike of pleasure runs up your spine with each entry into her, and you can feel her entire body rock as you thrust into her, see the swell of her breasts bounce in reaction to your every penetration of her body.

"You fuck me so good, daddy..."

Rosé rolls her hips against you, grinding herself into you, taking your cock to it's base and relishing the contact of her clit against you.

"Look at how much she loves riding you, daddy." Jennie rises, no longer content to just watch from the side-lines. "Look at how good this pretty little slut takes your cock."

Jennie takes her position behind Rosé, giving herself the perfect vantage point to watch you from over Rosé's shoulder, close enough to feel the heat from your fucking.

Rosé sighs as Jennie's hands begin to roam up her back, taking their time to run up her sides, feeling her way up Rosé's sweat-soaked body. Jennie peeks between your bodies, the gap wide enough for her to see your cock move in and out of Rosé's body.

"She's so fucking wet for you, daddy," Jennie says, kissing into Rosé's cheek and her neck. "You did this to her. You and your big fucking cock. I bet you love stretching out our tight pussies."

Jennie's words have a powerful effect on you, and your cock swells even harder inside Rosé, battling against the tight walls of her pussy.

"How does it feel to have daddy's big cock stretch you out, Rosie?"

"So—fucking—good," Rosé manages to gasp out a reply.

Rosé's answer seems to satisfy Jennie, a devilish smirk on her lips. You knew that smirk, and knew that it meant a future of immediate, torturously wonderful ecstasy.

"I told you last night wouldn't be enough for either of us," Jennie says, her every word filling your ears like a siren's song. "Not even this is enough. We're not leaving this hotel until you fuck us in every one of our holes, on every surface in this room. There's not gonna be a single corner of this hotel where you haven't made us cum with that big fucking cock of yours."

You can only grunt in reply, your mind a clouded haze of Rosé's pussy and Jennie's extremely naughty promises. It's only Rosé's shivers that ground you, her writhes, her squirms keeping you in the moment.

You can tell Rosé's getting close, her hips grind against you with urgency, trying to stuff as much of your cock in her as she could, hungrily taking you into her. Jennie senses it too, and she takes Rosé's chin, turning her to face her, and this time it's Jennie's turn to force a deep kiss on the blonde's lips.

Rosé's eyes snap open at the sudden kiss, but it's one she eagerly welcomes—there's no grace to their kiss this time, just open mouths, messy tongues, and an intensity that spurs your fucking of Rosé.

Jennie's hands find the gap between your two bodies, taking Rosé's breasts into her hands, cupping the younger girl's breasts, giving them a playful squeeze.

"Are you gonna cum for daddy now, Rosie?" Jennie asks, teasing Rosé's nipples with her fingers, her lips nibbling at the blonde's ears, her eyes ablaze with lust while watching your cock disappear in and out of Rosé.

"Ye—yes—God I'm so close." Rosé gasps as you fuck her faster, harder, your cock hitting deeper and deeper depths in her pussy, drawing louder and louder moans from Rosé.

"Would you like that, daddy?" Jennie asks you, her hands now fully squeezing Rosé's tits, pulling back on Rosé and pressing her into her own chest, pushing their tight bodies together. "Would you like pretty Rosie to cum all over your cock?"

You can't respond—not with words anyway—and grunt back as you continue to piston in and out of Rosé's hot pussy.

"Then let's give her what she wants," Jennie says, the command clear on her lips, "cum, Rosie."

Rosé's body freezes on top of you, shouting your name, letting it fill the suite—her young, tight body suspended over your cock as the orgasm overruns her senses. She throws herself back into Jennie as she orgasms, and Jennie wraps her arms around her, holding Rosé against her as the blonde dissolves into a puddle of quivers and spasms.

Rosé's pussy tightens around you, threatening to take an orgasm from you that you hadn't even thought was there yet, but you manage to hold yourself back, instead focusing on her beautiful face, ruined by the pleasure coursing through her body.

Jennie lightly kisses Rosé's cheek as Rosé's entire body rises and falls at once, sighing through the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. Rosé lets her body melt into Jennie, letting her freely hold her body, still handling her breasts, pinching and teasing at her nipples, enjoying the well-fucked mess that was once Rosé.

Carefully, Jennie let's Rosé down onto the bed and off her lap, her pussy still desperately trying to keep hold of your cock as she slides off your body.

Happy that the girl is taken care of, Jennie finally turns to you, and you instantly reach a silent understanding with her.

Jennie hungered, and it was up to you to satiate her.

"My turn now, daddy."

You reach out for her, but before you can take her into your arms like you did Rosé, she shakes her head, and turns her back to you.

"No daddy," Jennie says, "like this."

With her back turned to you, and on her knees, Jennie stretches forward. It's a simple, slow movement, but when Jennie does it, she looks like a work of art. Her arms stretch outwards as far as they can reach, nearly touching the end of the bed, and she points her incredibly fit, toned ass upwards at you, preparing herself for you, presenting herself to you in the ideal position to fuck Jennie.

The sight is intoxicating, Jennie prostrated, submitting her body, her dripping wet pussy on display just for you.

Rosé may have been built for you to make love to—but Jennie was built to be fucked.

"Fuhhhh—"

You can't even translate the sound that comes out of Jennie's mouth—practically a shout—the moment you impale her, feeding her needy pussy your entire length in a single, fast, hard thrust.

You don't give her time to get comfortable or adjust—you drive yourself into her, fucking out of her a stream of obscenely lustful cries. Every thrust ripples across her entire body, her cute ass bounces against your hips, her toned back tenses, her fingers dig into the bed, and her neck cranes with each moan that leaves her.

"Fuck- yes daddy!"

Jennie cries out, finally able to form simple sentences, a signal that you're not fucking her hard enough—something you're happy to correct quickly.

You grip into her ass, taking a cheek in each hand, allowing you to slam into her proper, making her feel your whole length stretching out her absurdly tight pussy. You can feel her work her muscles around you, her walls hugging your length in it's entirety, sinking you deeper into her all-too-willing body with every push into her.

It's so easy to fuck Jennie, she always gives herself over to you, taking pleasure in being used for someone else's pleasure. Her body hungered for you—needed your cock as much as it needed to live and breathe, making it your duty to fuck Jennie proper. You slam into her harder with each thrust, throwing your body into her as roughly as you can.

"So big inside me—fucking stretching me out!"

You can feel Jennie's body wanting more, now actively slamming her hips back into you, matching you stroke for stroke. You know there's a high chance you're not going to last long at the rate your going, especially having just been inside Rosé, but still you push on, wanting to make the most of Jennie while you could.

"Ah fuck! I love the way you fuck me—I love it so much daddy!"

It's somewhere between Jennie's exclamations that you realise Rosé has stirred, no longer lying to the side, but now watching with a spark of intensity in her eyes.

Something about the sight of watching her friend get wildly fucked before her wakes her, draws her back into play. She moves around the bed, placing herself seated in front of Jennie, and without any ceremony, opens up her legs on either side of Jennie's head.

Jennie doesn't even hesitate, her hands reaching out for Rosé's thighs, drawing her pussy towards her and diving her head right into Rosé.

"Yes…" Rosé's eyes close as Jennie's face disappears between her thighs. You forget to move, fascinated with the chain of bodies the three of you have formed, only to be immediately reminded of your duty when Jennie helpfully pushes her hips back against you.

You keep your eyes on Rosé's face, awash with delirious pleasure as Jennie works her magic on Rosé's pussy, making music out of the loud licks and slurps against her for your ears.

"Fuck Jennie," Rosé sighs, her hands now holding Jennie's hair in a makeshift ponytail, drawing her further into her. "You're going to make me cum again…"

You feel a sense of competition for a moment, wanting all of Jennie, all of her attention, and you increase your speed, forcing Jennie's mouth up off Rosé for a moment to release a lustful, loud moan of pleasure as you urge your cock as deep as it can go inside her pussy.

To her credit, Jennie dives right back down on Rosé's pussy, intent on seeing her friend to completion throughout your rough abuse of her cunt.

Rosé's moans match Jennie's, starting to get louder, and you can tell she's getting closer as well. She's practically grabbing Jennie by the head now, holding her face firmly against her, releasing melodic sighs each time you spear into Jennie's thin body and push her face-first into Rosé's pussy.

Jennie lifts her head from Rosé, unable to hold back her moans anymore, distracted from the task at hand. You can see her replace her mouth with her fingers, something Rosé generously accepts, letting Jennie insert her fingers deep inside Rosé's pussy.

You take this as license to fuck Jennie freely, relentlessly pounding your way into her needy cunt. She holds herself against Rosé's thighs, fingers still working wildly on the blonde's pussy, mewling and moaning as you pick up speed.

There's no control to your fucking anymore, just digging your fingers into her firm ass cheeks and feeling her hot pussy pulse around you.

"Fuck daddy, like that—harder!"

Jennie wanted—demanded—to be fucked, and you were more than willing to give her the fucking she was begging for. You raise your hand off her ass, and almost immediately, you bring it back down on her, giving her a firm spank and instantly reddening her milky-white skin.

"YES!" Jennie cries out, all too happy to feel the sting of your assault on her ass.

You lift your hand again, eliciting another gasp when you bring it down again. And then another—"fuck!"—and another—"like that!" and another—"more!"

Jennie's body tells you she's getting closer, her hips frantically bucking against you, her fingers no longer working on Rosé, just bracing herself against Rosé's thighs. Rosé has taken over from Jennie, her legs still spread wide open, using her own fingers to whirl around her clit, eyes closed as she loses herself in her own pleasure.

"Hurt me—use me—just -"

Your thrusts interrupt her mid-sentence, shattering any composure she once had with your every collision into her young, fit body.

"Whenever you want—not just me. Rosie too," Jennie says, her words feeding your ego, spurring you faster and faster inside Jennie. "You can even fuck Lisa and Jisoo, you just have to ask..."

You know you don't have much time left yourself—the sight, the sound, the feeling of fucking Jennie, and the vision of Rosé splayed in front of you, nearly brought to orgasm herself, is more than enough to bring you to the inevitable.

"Cum in me," Jennie gasps, now able to let her demands be heard. She repeats the phrase like a mantra—"cum—in—me."

You drive yourself deep into Jennie—as deep as you can go inside her body—your hips meeting hers one final time. The last thing you see before your vision blurs is Jennie's firm ass colliding into you, her flawless, sweaty back arching, and her face resting against Rosé's creamy-white thighs.

"Yes—don't fucking stop—don't you dare stop fucking me!" Jennie cries, her words becoming shouts. "Yes—please—just—FILL ME!"

Jennie's words, and her tight, toned body, break you, your knees crumbling beneath you as you fall into her, her cunt taking your cock in for all it's worth. It's buried inside her that you finally fall apart, both unable and unwilling to stop fucking her, yearning to give her the cum she so desperately craves.

You're not sure who's moans it is you hear loudest—Rosé gasping at the mercy of her own orgasm, Jennie at the feeling of her pussy suddenly welcoming the salvo of hot semen shooting into her depths, or even you, consumed by the agonisingly wonderful sensation of Jennie's pussy tightening around your cock.

Jennie's pussy pulses and contracts around you as she cums, she somehow manages to work her muscles around you, wringing your cock of every drop of my cum it had, filling her cunt to the brim.

Your cock throbs inside of her, still unloading, still fucking your cum even deeper into her, so much so that your semen starts to leak out of her and around you, dribbling down her thighs and onto the bed below.

You don't know how long you remain like that for, basking in Jennie's warmth, only coming back when you collapse together in a heap of naked bodies, soaking in the afterglow of your shared orgasms—you on top of Jennie, Jennie on top of Rosé.

No words are shared—not that there was much to be said, anyway. Heavy breathing fills the shared air as the three of you recover from your intense fucking. You roll off Jennie, idly admiring the flat of her back, her young tight ass begging to be used—just like the rest of her. But it would have to wait.

You look up at the Rosé, a serene look on her face, gradually finding her breath, her face shining with sweat which mats her blonde hair. She notices you watching her, and flashes you a tired smile.

She's the first to speak, saying out loud to no one in particular, "that was… that was…"

Jennie finishes the sentence for her, "fucking hot."

Rosé and Jennie laugh, their beautiful voices that were usually reserved for stadiums reaching only you. Rosé gently removes Jennie from her lap, crawling up the bed to move to yours, addressing your well-spent cock.

"Rosé?" You ask, but her mouth is already full of your cock. You groan as she licks you up and down, cleaning your shaft, licking the remaining dregs of cum and Jennie's juices off you. She's thorough in her efforts, long, slow drags of her tongue across your softening cock, and even down to your emptied balls.

Satisfied with the condition of your cock, Rosé finally moves up the bed. She joins Jennie who had already wriggled her way up the bed and nestled herself against you. They both take position at either side of you—Rosé snuggling up against the left side of you, and Jennie back where she started, her drained body pressing herself up against your right.

"So," Rosé says, eyes already closed as she makes herself comfortable against you.

"What now, daddy?" Jennie asks, pulling herself tighter into your grasp.

You look at them both, unable to resist smiling as you remember Jennie's earlier promise of how the next few days in the hotel suite would go.

"How about…" You glance to an ignored table at the side of the room, where a forgotten paper bag and tray of coffees sit. "Breakfast in bed?"

AM ft. Jennie

jennie x male reader smut

5k words

All it takes is one message.

One photo, one word, and one emoji.

Hey ;)

Fuck.

There are exactly 8 sets of traffic lights between your apartment and Jennie’s, and through some miracle they all flash green for you. Even so—if any one of them—hell, even if all of them were red, you would’ve still raced right through without a care in the world.

It’s 4 AM, and you’re speeding through the streets of Seoul, all because of a message.

You cut through backstreets, taking shortcuts only you know, dodging the few stray cars on the road at this hour. Pedal to the floor, knuckles white against the steering wheel, only for your attention to be broken by the flash of the screen on the centre console of your car, displaying a follow-up message -

I’m waiting, daddy.

Several laws are broken, close calls are encountered, but regardless, you manage to make it to Jennie’s apartment building both in one piece and in record time.

Your car screeches as you pull into the entrance, threatening to alert the entire street to your presence. You’re not even stopped by the clearly annoyed security guard watching the gate—he simply waves you through as soon as he sees your car—he knows who you are and he knows what you’re here for.

The moments between you turning into the garage and racing up to Jennie’s apartment blur together—your body is on complete autopilot—parking your car, rushing to the entrance, riding the elevator—your mind is too occupied with thoughts of Jennie and the things a message received after midnight promised.

You’re halfway through punching in the code to her apartment door when it swings open and you are graced with a vision of sex.

Jennie Kim—her petite, perfect, fuckable body wearing the exact same outfit as the photo that put you on the mad path to her apartment in the first place—a simple, black, Calvin Klein bra, and a pair of jeans, already unbuttoned and barely hanging onto her lovely hips.

It’s the look in her eyes though—dark brown pools, filled with lust and want and need—that lets you know you made the right decision in coming over.

“Took you long eno -”

You don’t let Jennie finish her sentence, instead grabbing her by the back of the head, entangling your hands in the loose bun she had tied her hair in, and seizing her by the lips.

Jennie doesn’t miss a beat and kisses you back with equal fierceness, clasping her hands behind your neck and standing up on her toes to meet you. You wrap your arms around her slim waist, feeling the smooth skin of her lower back and pressing her delicate body against yours.

You let her tongue explore your mouth as your hands roam her body, sliding down to grab handfuls of her cute, denim-cladded butt, further pulling her up and into you. You enjoy the soft flesh in the palms of your hands—you squeeze both cheeks, eliciting slight moans from Jennie’s mouth and into your kiss.

Jennie kisses you with passion, and it’s not long before the passionate kisses between the two of you turn into a wild make-out session—your tongues engaging in a fevered dance in each others mouths, battling for dominance over one another. She’s so absorbed in your torrid kiss, so hungry for more, hungry for you, hungry enough to bite your lip, causing you to hiss and recoil from her just a little.

She giggles at the pain she caused you, making the most of the brief separation as an opportunity to take the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it far out of sight.

“God, you’re so hot,” Jennie says, hot breaths tickling your chest, as she makes the most of seeing your bare torso, ogling at your body.

She bites her lip as she takes purchase of your body—scanning your chest, your arms, your face, until finally resting her eyes on the burgeoning erection growing beneath your sweatpants.

“I’ve missed you, daddy.”

She yelps as you take her by the hips, falling to your knees in front of her. She’s shorter than you, so much so that you still have to bend over to press your tongue against her midriff. Jennie knew your turn-ons, knew the right words to say, knew the right things to do, and she knew that just a photo of her in a bra, baring her flat, toned stomach for you to see would be enough to have you speeding over to her apartment in an instant.

You kiss into her abs, your tongue tracing over the grooves separating each muscle, relishing in her sharp inhalations at the feeling of your lips on her skin. Her body is so delicious, so slim and tight—if there ever was an argument to be made against wearing clothes, Jennie would be evidence number one.

You kiss into her, kissing up her body, taking in her pleased sighs as your hands run up her sides. Eventually, you meet the straps of her black bra, offensively blocking your lips from her breasts.

You don’t even bother with trying to unclasp the bra, her breasts are small enough that you can just lift the fabric up her chest, exposing her beautiful, perky tits to you.

Jennie arches her chest forward for you, serving her breasts for you on a platter, pressing her nipples forward, already stiff and taut with arousal, begging to be sucked and nibbled on. You lick you lips at the mere sight—eye to eye with her small, but still mouth-watering breasts, absolutely perfect on Jennie.

Like a moth to the flame, your tongue finds one of her dark-pink nipples, your lips latching around it, pursed against the small bud.

“Daddy, yes…” Jennie moans, taking the back of your head and pressing it further into left breast, feeding you with her nipple. You indulge in her, enjoying the stiff nipple in your mouth, your tongue lathering it with your saliva.

You slowly move a hand from her side, dragging it across her hips to the front of her waist, placing your palm flat against her stomach.

You don’t even need to remove her jeans, you press your hand downwards, and breach her panties with your fingers.

Her whole body tenses at the first initial brush of your fingertips against her cleanly shaven mound, and her hips buck forward, demanding to be touched further.

With your mouth still clasped onto her breast, you look up at her. Her eyes are closed shut, face contorted in ecstasy, her lips open, frozen in a soundless sigh as she revels under your touch.

You move your fingers down, her jeans and panties sliding down her firm cheeks to allow you better access, and you feel her heat, the warmth of her folds as you’re met with soaking wetness.

You take a moment, removing your mouth from her breast, and her eyes snap open in dismay.

“Slut,” you breathe, “you’re already so fucking wet.”

“Only for you, daddy,” Jennie moans back, her fingers threading themselves in your hair, urging you back onto her breast. “I’m only a slut for you.”

Your other hand grips her ass, pulling her closer into you, and she shivers delightfully under your lips and fingers—she moans, sighs, pleas—her knees are so weak and start to shake, she’s only kept standing by your firm grasp on her.

Her jeans are still tight on her, too tight for you to fully fit your hand down her panties and make the most of her drenched pussy, but Jennie doesn’t care, content to rock herself onto your fingers. You respond in kind, drawing circles around her clit with your fingers, unravelling the knot inside Jennie, helping to free her of her pent up sexual energy.

Jennie holds you against her chest tighter as your fingers trace faster and faster circles around her clit—every circle making her breaths harsher, her inhales sharper. Her legs grow tighter around your hand, her thighs squeezing together, locking your hand in place.

“Touch me just like that…”

This wasn’t an occasion to take your time—Jennie wanted you here at 4 AM for one reason and one reason only—to make her cum.

“You’re gonna make me -”

You double your efforts, spurring her on—she’s so desperate in her moans, so needy, and it’s in an instant that her orgasm seizes control of her perfect, tight body, and she’s overcome with the pleasure she had demanded for so passionately.

Her orgasm is quick and short, but just as intense as they always were from her—she quivers and shakes in the palm of your hand, but you keep stimulating her clit through it’s entirety, still keeping her nipple in your mouth, suckling away as she succumbs to your assault on her body.

She crumbles over you, bracing herself against your head, your shoulders, as her body dissolves into a happily pleasured mess over you.

“Wait,” she says, slowly regaining her breath.

You lift your head off her chest, leaving behind a glistening nipple as you look up to meet her gaze. She cups your chin in her small hands, guiding you back to your feet.

“I want—I need -” Jennie moans as you kiss into her neck, into the bare, white skin of her lovely neck, the end of her sentence dying on her lips as she gasps.

“Tell me what you need, Jen,” you say, still leaning down, your hand remaining down her jeans, your fingers still idly playing with her clit.

“Your cock, daddy,” Jennie says, her voice sweet and submissive. “I’ll do anything you want, daddy, just let me have your cock now.”

“Kneel,” is all you say in response, and at your command, Jennie slowly falls to her knees.

There’s something so right about seeing Jennie on her knees before you, wanting nothing more than to be filled by your cock. She looks up at you—so desperately hungry—and she opens her mouth wide for you, extending her tongue to show just how criminally empty her throat was.

“Do you see daddy? I want your cock so bad.”

“Then take off my pants for me.”

Jennie reaches forward, grasping at your waistband, and eagerly pulls down your sweatpants. You’re already at full mast, your cock springing out of your pants and barely missing Jennie’s face as it comes to life next to her.

You can see the hunger, clear on her face, as she examines your length hanging suspended in front of her. Her mouth salivates at the sight—she had seen it before, experienced it’s length—but you can see it in her eyes—she’s totally mesmerised by your cock.

Her tongue, still hanging from her mouth, makes first contact with your cock, helping itself to the precum leaking from your cock’s slit, licking it clean. She takes her time, pressing the flat of the tongue against the head of your cock, coating it with generous helpings of her saliva. She swirls her tongue around the tip, making sure to target the sensitive area just underneath the head of your cock.

She never separates her tongue from your cock, determined to cover the entire surface area of your length, savouring every inch against her tongue, marking her territory—your cock—as hers and hers only.

Her hand joins her efforts, wrapping itself around your base, pumping at you, stimulating the places her wandering tongue isn’t.

She worships your cock, licking, kissing, stroking all over, a look of blissful ecstasy washing over her face as she treats herself to her favourite meal.

“You love my cock—don’t you, Jen?

"I don’t just love it, daddy,” Jennie says, hand stroking up and down your length. “I’m fucking addicted to it.”

“Prove it.”

It’s like magic—one moment your cock is hanging atop the bottom of Jennie’s lower lip, and then the next—it disappears down her throat.

It’s too much—too sudden, her hands reach around and grip your thighs, force-feeding herself with your cock, and just like that, every single one of your nerve-endings lights on fire. Your world becomes smaller—there’s just Jennie, her seductive eyes lovingly looking up at you, and her plump lips vacuum-sealed around your cock.

Her throat buckles against you, almost swallowing your full length into her. She takes you deep down, to the point that her make-up starts to run, her eyes begin to water, but somehow, impossibly, she still manages to hold you inside her mouth.

You stroke her hair, coaxing her as she takes you a further, agonisingly wonderful inch, enough to press her bottom lip against your balls and her nose against your chest. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of her, mouth full of your cock, enough to nearly bring you to your knees.

And then she begins to move.

Her hands control the motion of your hips, gripping into your thighs and pushing you in and out of her, making you fuck her mouth—choking herself on your cock.

It’s incomparable, the feeling of violating Jennie’s pretty face, but it’s one that you want to chase, and one that you know you need to be in control of. You tense your thighs, stopping her from pushing you back inside her, wrestling control of your cock from her.

Jennie instantly submits, her hold on your legs loosening, leaving herself—her mouth—at your total mercy. You place both hands on either side of her face, taking a moment to stroke her cheek, to absorb yourself in her pleading eyes looking up at you, waiting for you to use her like the fuck-toy she so desperately wanted to be.

You give into her needs—you wanted to use her as much as you knew she wanted to be used. Your first thrust is hard and rough, and she prepares herself enough that only a slight gag escapes her as your cock plunges deep down her throat.

“Mmmph!” Jennie moans around you, her lips reaching the base of your cock in one harsh pump.

You pull your hips back as quickly as they came in, drawing your saliva-stained shaft out from her pretty lips. You don’t even give her a second’s reprieve before you once again seize her head, and force your cock back down her throat.

She gags against your strength, and while her eyes continue to water she never complains, never taps out as you fuck her face. You knew your slut, knew she could take far more punishment than you were giving her already.

You take her face at a wild tempo, her mouth so slick, so hot, as you slide in and out of her with ease, hitting the back of her throat with every stroke. Jennie works with you, her tongue swiping at the underside of your cock at every opportunity, her lips remaining tight around you with each entry and exit into her wretched throat.

It’s a vision so perfect, Jennie’s gorgeous face taking your cock in and out of her, her moans seeping from her mouth and vibrating around your shaft, sending heavenly tingles coursing from your cock straight to the pleasure centres on your brain.

You can feel yourself getting close—far too close for your liking. It was too early to giver her the cum she so badly wanted—it would be a sin to finish before you even had a chance of fucking her like she needed to be.

Against the demands of the hornier parts of your brain, you withdraw your cock from her face. You’re surprised at her resistance, requiring you to tighten your hold on her face to force her off you, making her unwillingly let your cock slip out from her throat.

Still, even once your cock has left her lips she follows after it, slurping the saliva that bridges the tip to her lips, marring her cute cheeks with stains of wet spit.

“Jen,” you say firmly, stopping her in her tracks.

The pout on her lips at being separated from your cock nearly breaks your heart, and you would’ve nearly been convinced by her tears if you didn’t know that they were caused by your violation of her throat.

You ignore her, bending over, taking her by the hand, and lift her up and into your arms. She’s so small, it barely takes any effort to scoop her into your grasp, holding her tiny body against you and carrying her across the apartment.

It’s a path you’ve walked many, many times before, from her entrance to her bedroom, but right now, even that distance seems too far, and you stop yourself in her living room.

You turn, seeing the large cloud couch—the centrepiece of the room—looking both incredibly comfortable and welcoming—a perfect stage for you to fuck Jennie on.

“Jennie,” you say, and she looks up at you from within your arms.

“Yes, daddy?” You’re taken aback by how cute she looks in your arms, nestled against your chest, face glistening with sweat, tears, and drool—a paradoxical depiction of filthy innocence.

“I’m going to fuck you into this couch.”

Unceremoniously, you dump her onto the couch. It’s barely a foot-high drop, but she’s so small she bounces slightly as she hits the cushions, letting out a small whimper in the process.

You follow up after her onto the couch, getting on your knees on the cushion, leaning over her and preparing to take what is yours.

But Jennie stops you, reaching out with a hand against your chest, stopping you from mounting her. In your confusion, Jennie pushes you away from her, giving her enough space to roll over, facing down against the cushions, her perfect ass pointed straight up in the air.

“From behind, daddy.” Jennie spreads herself out on the couch, large enough that she can stretch herself out fully, her long limbs not even reaching either end. “I want to feel you on top me.”

You swallow.

It’s hard to look at anything other than Jennie’s toned back and her fit, round ass. Her jeans, still on her legs, sit just under her cheeks, keeping her ass taut and tight and pressing her cheeks together so wonderfully. You lean over, taking both her jeans and her panties in your hands, and yank them downwards. You don’t bother taking them off the whole way, needing just enough so you have access to her creamy-white thighs, and her already glistening pussy between them.

You swing a leg over the back of her legs, knees on both sides of her waist, and you let your cock rest in between her soft thighs.

Jennie raises her ass slightly, somehow knowing exactly where your cock is, and for the first time of the night, the tip of your cock meets her wet, needy entrance.

“Take me,” Jennie says, breathlessly.

There was no waiting with Jennie—patience was the least useful of virtues—with Jennie sex always came down to fucking her hard and fucking her fast.

“Ummmph!”

You can barely make out your name from the sound that leaves Jennie’s mouth when you enter her, impaling her in one smooth, slick thrust. You feel dizzy and light-headed all at once inside her—just one taste and you’re already drunk on Jennie’s pussy.

Jennie immediately gets to work on your cock, flexing and clenching her pussy around you, her tight, wet, hot walls, closing in around your cock as you bury yourself inside her. You fall forward almost instantly—your every sense overwhelmed by her, only managing to stop by planting your hands into the couch and on either side of her head, now fully taking up position on top of her prone form.

You take a breath, both to get a hold of yourself and to bask in the feeling of being hilt-deep in the physical embodiment of sex beneath you.

It takes your every effort to draw your shaft out of her body, backing out of her inch by inch, relishing in the sensation of her walls clenching around you as you lift up out of her, almost refusing to let go of your cock.

You don’t back out the whole way, leaving just your head balanced precariously in her entrance, still soaking in her freely-flowing juices, and you take another deep breath before plunging right back into her.

“Daddy!”

A spike of pleasure shoots up your spine with your second thrust into Jennie—her pussy eagerly welcoming you back in. The single hit of pleasure is not enough though—you need more, had to have more—you were just as addicted to Jennie’s cunt as she was to your cock, and you suddenly become unable to focus on anything that isn’t fucking Jennie Kim.

It’s so easy to fuck her—you quickly fall into a rhythm, like a song you had practiced countless times before—working off muscle memory that you had built from the many, many days spent in the past fucking Jennie.

You thrust into her, fucking her into the couch just like you said you would, feeling her wetness, her tightness around you, taking in the sounds of lust leaving her mouth and filling your ears. Her tightness is almost too much—her jeans keep her legs together, forcing her thighs shut, her walls squeezing down around you with each piston into her wet pussy.

“So fucking good, daddy!”

It doesn’t even matter to you whether this is what she wanted or not—she called you over to fuck, and you were going to fuck her into the couch until she could barely remember her own name.

You use her—use her body like you know she liked to be used, use the tight cunt she was all too willing to provide. It’s to that goal that you thrust deep into her again and again and again, bathing your cock in the delicious juices of her cunt, wanting to hear nothing more than her every little sound of pleasure that leaves her lips with each collision into her hot, tight body.

It feels good—too damn good, and you lose focus for a second—the strength in your arms leaves you and you collapse onto her. She groans as your body falls down on her and you push further into her, reaching depths that you weren’t able to reach before. You’re now completely on top of her, pressing her half-naked body into the couch.

You move to get up, but her hand grabs your bicep, stopping you, and she takes your right arm, moving it underneath her and wrapping it around her slender, vanilla-white neck.

“Like this, daddy. Fuck me just like this…”

It takes a second for her words to register in your mind—you thought you had already fucked Jennie in all ways that were possible before, but fucking her tiny body, laying prone under your full weight, your arm dangerously wrapped around her throat—this was new ground.

You adjust your body slightly on top of her, drawing a gasp as you move inside her, manoeuvring yourself just enough to tighten your arm around her throat—not enough to choke her, but enough for her to feel your strength.

Her hand finds your bicep, giving you an approving squeeze, beckoning you, needing you, to start fucking her again immediately. Your hips start moving like they never stopped—you ram into her mercilessly, slaps of your hips against her ass-cheeks echo throughout the living room, blending in with the filth she shouts out from beneath you.

“Feels so fucking good, daddy. So—so fucking big.” Jennie cries out, each word punctuated with each thrust into her body. “Do you like fucking me? Do you like fucking your little slut?”

“Fuck yes, Jennie,” you gasp, your voice surprising you with it’s hoarseness—already breathless just from being inside Jennie.

Jennie presses her lips into your forearm, kissing into you, wanting to feel as much of your skin against hers as possible. “Tell me—t-tell me you’ve never had anyone as good as me.”

“No one,” you breathe, “no one’s as good as you. I love fucking your slutty cunt, Jen.”

“Show me.”

You pick up your pace, nearly lifting your whole length out of her with every stroke, before slamming yourself back into her, causing her whole body to shake and seize at once—fucking her harder and rougher with each thrust.

“FUCK!” She shouts as you fill her, penetrating her fully, making her feel your entire length in the deepest parts of her pussy.

She can’t do anything from under you—can’t move, can’t escape—she can only lie there helplessly and moan as she takes your cock in and out of her at a faster and faster pace.

You reach your free arm underneath her, forcing a hand between her chest and the cushion, seizing her left breast and squeezing the soft bud in your fingers. She feels so good in your hands, feels so good beneath you, an ideal receptacle for your cock, built to take your poundings no matter how rough.

Jennie cries out from under you—barely coherent sentences, just a steady stream of words and moans of “fuck!”—“harder!”—“please!”

You could feel how close she was, her pussy tightening achingly around your cock, her body beginning to spasm and tremble beneath you. You know the feeling all too well—the feeling of her wet, slick pussy pulsating and contracting around you—it’s when she’s right on the edge that Jennie’s the tightest.

“You’re stretching me out, daddy!” Jennie moans at your roughness, at how callously you were fucking her, not complaining but rather savouring in it, letting you know just how good it felt to have you fuck her. “I’m so close daddy—I’m so close—I’m—”

You’re caught off guard when Jennie’s grip around your arm strengthens, and she pulls your bicep further into her, tightening your hold on her neck and forcing you into choking her.

“Choke me, daddy—hurt me—use me—fill me—”

You tense your muscles, feeling her throat gurgle and strain against your arm, and it’s in that instant, through a strangled gasp, that Jennie breaks.

Jennie cries into the couch cushion as her orgasm overtakes her—unmakes her—and for a split-second she goes completely rigid, right before she melts into a puddle of quivers and moans. She cums with her entire body—her every muscle tenses, her throat struggles against your bicep, her toes curl under her and her fingernails dig into your arm deep enough that you know it will leave a mark.

“INSIDE ME—PLEASE!”

Jennie’s words are all it takes to push you to your own impending orgasm, and you crash your hips into her ass with one final thrust, burying yourself as deep as you can inside her desperately clenching cunt. A single second turns into an eternity—and nothing exists except for the hot, fucked mess beneath you, waking up the whole building with her shouts of your name as you let loose deep inside her hot pussy.

Her body shakes with each rope of cum that shoots out of you and deep into her, pushing her ass as far back into your hips as was possible. You don’t stop fucking her as you unload into her—she fills your ears with her lustful moans, spurring you on as she takes more and more of your semen inside of her.

“Yes, daddy! Fuck your cum into me! I need it! I want it!”

It takes several shots, but eventually your load is completely emptied inside her, and her grip on her arm loosens enough for you to end your chokehold on her. Your face falls into her neck, and you taste the salt of her sweat, smelling the aroma of Jennie—vanilla and loveliness mixed with the scents from your fucking.

“I love how your cum feels inside me, daddy.” Jennie mewls, adjusting her hips under you, extracting a moan from you at the subtle movement of her cunt. Her pussy proves inadequate to hold both your cock and all your semen, and you can it feel leak from around your shaft and out the corners of her lips.

You’re suddenly made aware of your heart rate, spiked so fast, like you’ve just run a sprint—which in this case, you may as well have.

You take several deep, recovering breaths—still on top of Jennie, still feeling her warmth against your chest, her breast still filling your palm, and your cock still embedded inside her, connecting the two of you together.

Jennie is more than happy to have you on top of her, returning to laying sweet kisses into your forearm, your hand, your fingers.

The considerate gentleman you are, you roll slightly to her side, taking most of the weight off her small body, giving her a little more room to breathe.

Not that she minded, apparently.

She takes the chance to roll to her own side, turning to you, eyes alight, still full of lust and hunger and all the filthy things about her that break you and keep you coming back more nights than was rational.

“I’m your slut, daddy. Only yours.”

“I know, Jen.”

She’s so beautiful next to you—you spend several moments looking at her—by your side, shrouded in a post-orgasm haze, a blissful, well-fucked expression on her face, her eyes filled with love and lust and affection and desire, a cocktail of emotions all equally intense, but all reserved solely for you.

Sunlight starts to peak through the curtains of her apartment, shining down on the angel next to you.

“Sun’s coming up,” Jennie says, a small smile on her face.

She leans forward, and in a manner that is so innocent, so cute, that it betrays every single action that she had just taken since you walked through that door—she kisses you on the nose.

“Day’s just getting started, daddy.”

EXPERIMENTS ft. Winter

winter x male reader smut

9k words

“I want to be clear upfront. I’m not going to have sex with you.”

Winter’s words bring your conversation to a screeching halt.

Your mind pieces together a reasonable, sensible response—“I wasn’t expecting to. I mean, it’s only the first date.”

“No,” Winter says, with an air of finality. “I mean, I’m not going to have sex with you. Ever.”

“Oh.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been rejected, and you know it likely won’t be the last, but still, this one stings just as badly—if not worse than all the rest—despite the fact that you barely know Winter.

Maybe it’s because you thought it was going so well. Talking to Winter is so easy—she smiles at your stories, laughs at all your dumb jokes, shares things with you that you don’t normally tell someone you just met, and although it may be wishful thinking on your part—you feel something there.

Or maybe it’s because Winter is devastatingly beautiful.

And way out of your league.

It’s something that’s stayed on the forefront of your mind ever since you saw her walk into the restaurant—her beauty is the kind that’s undeniable—that draws attention. It would be easier to count the number of heads that didn’t turn when she walked through the front entrance and across the floor to you.

There’s a million little things to Winter—from how easy it is to make her laugh and the way her whole face lights up when she does, to how she bites her lip when she has to think and genuinely consider her answers before responding to a question, to her gaze—not just her eyes, as round and wide and lovely as they are—but the way she holds you in them.

It’s been a short dinner date, but you’ve already fallen for her—fast.

Which makes it all the more painful to be dismissed so easily.

“Can I ask why?” You ask, cutting through the awkward tension that is threatening to fill the entire restaurant.

Winter pauses, idly circling the rim of her empty glass with her fingertip, and says, “it’s not you.”

“It’s not you, it’s me?” You finish her sentence for her, and you make her smile, and you fall for her all over again.

“Something like that,” Winter replies. “But it’s true.”

You decide to try a different approach, asking her, “are you a werewolf?”

“What?” Winter exclaims.

“You know, are you going to turn into a wolf and eat me. Or are you under some curse, or maybe is this like a Cinderella situation, and it’ll turn out you weren’t really an idol at all, and your shoes will turn into pumpkins?

Winter laughs at your absurd question—a real, contagious, pretty sound, making what is a dour situation considerably brighter. It feels good to make Winter laugh. "It’s the carriage that turns into a pumpkin.”

“Ah, so is that it?”

“I like you, you know? I really do. I don’t get to meet a lot of people outside the industry. Even fewer that can make me laugh,” Winter says. “You’re funny, charming, good-looking. Not too arrogant, but not intimidated by me. I just thought you deserved to know upfront.”

“But…”

“But,” Winter starts, before pivoting, “tell me—your friend who set you up on this blind date—what did he tell you about me?”

“He said he met you through Karina. He said that you were a beautiful girl that was way out of my league, and that I’d be a dumbass if I didn’t go out with you,” you say, before adding, “and he was right.”

Winter’s cheeks blush at the addendum. A trick of the light, maybe. “And what did Karina say about me?”

You hesitate, but ultimately decide to be straight with the truth. If you want honesty, you have to be honest yourself. “She said someone needs to remove the stick up your ass and replace it with a cock. Fast.”

“So there’s my problem.”

“The stick jammed in there too tight?” You ask, but Winter shakes her head.

“Hah. No. I don’t want to have sex with anyone.”

You ponder on that for a second, letting her words circle through your mind. You look around the dimly lit restaurant—an understated, yet stylishly decorated venue. You glance at all the tables, the people sitting around them, and then it occurs to you that you recognise a few of the faces. Not personally, but people you’ve seen—on TV, movies, music videos.

You’ve ignored them all since you arrived at the restaurant, too focused on calming your nerves before the date, but now it’s all clicked together—this was a specific restaurant where celebrities could date—out of the public eye, away from paparazzi—where they could be their honest selves.

You turn back to Winter, gorgeous eyes still watching you, waiting for your response, searching for a reaction.

“It makes sense. I know that it’s why Karina and my friend set up the date in the first place, but I honestly didn’t have any expectations, I’m just happy to have met you, ” you say.

“Really? And if that means no sex then…”

“Well…” Your voice trails off, leaving words unsaid. “No sex. Ever? With anyone? Are you—?”

“Gay? No. Maybe. A little?” Winter shrugs nonchalantly. “That’s not the issue. No sex, in general. There’s nothing sex has to offer that I can’t achieve with just my fingers, let alone my vibrator.”

You can understand where she is coming from—you’ve experienced both good and bad sex—and know at times there is nothing better than a night at home with your old faithful hand. But the idea of no sex at all sounds so foreign. “How much sex have you had?”

“Enough to know I’m right.”

“I could prove you wrong.”

One of Winter’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows raises. “I’ve heard that line before. Is this the part where you tell me you have a magic penis?”

“I’m not going to outright rule it out—I have had some great feedback in the past.” You flash her your most charming smile, hoping to chip away slightly at the cracks in her argument. “Seriously, how many times?”

“A couple of times.”

“Only a couple?” You ask, and Winter scoffs. “Describe the experience?”

“2 minutes of grunting followed by,” Winter begins, before dropping her voice an octave to a fake ‘macho’ baritone, “that was great babe, was it good for you too?”

“Well there’s your problem!” You exclaim, as if you were Albert Einstein seeing an apple fall from a tree.

“You’re going to tell me that I’ve just been unlucky? That all my sexual experiences up to this point have been one terrible coincidence?”

You begin constructing your argument, like a defense attorney putting together a convincing case protecting their client—or in your case, protecting the sanctity of sex. Before you were more concerned about having a good date—now it was about proving Winter wrong. “No—well, maybe. I can’t speak for all guys, but it sounds to me like a sample size issue.”

“A sample size issue.” Winter repeats, your words sounding so much more prettier coming out of her mouth.

“Your hypothesis is that all sex is bad. But you’ve only had sex a couple of times. That’s nowhere near enough times to prove a theory.”

“I think I know where this is going.” Winter eyes you suspiciously, but you can see the amusement on her face in the form of a cheeky smile, barely holding back a laugh. This was the girl that moments ago had been laughing along with your jokes. This was the girl you’ve fallen for, and are now falling for again, for the millionth time tonight. “I suppose you have a genius solution.”

“An experiment—we have sex,” you cut Winter off before she can retort, her mouth already open to protest. “Purely scientific—no expectations afterwards, if you still hate sex, we shake hands and go our separate ways.”

“Really.” Winter’s smile is now a full grin, no longer outright rejecting your advances, but challenging you to work for what you wanted. “You’re really going to use science to try and get laid?”

“Well I am something of a scientist myself.”

Winter bites her lip and runs her hand through her hair before resting it under her chin. It’s an effortless, subconscious gesture—something she probably doesn’t even realise she’s doing, but it’s so incredibly sexy.

You can almost see the individual gears turning behind Winter’s dark eyes, doing some amounts of calculation and mental math, actually giving your proposal some thought.

“Fine,” Winter says, with such conviction that it almost takes you aback. “If this’ll get Karina off my back then fine. Do your worst. Or your best, I guess.”

And now you’re the one grinning.

“But only because I think you’re cute.”

“Good enough for me.”

“If this doesn’t work out—which I know it won’t—this doesn’t get back to Karina. If she knew I agreed to some insane experiment…”

“We’ll tell them it didn’t go well. Bad dates happen.” You offer, and Winter nods in approval.

“Just so you know, the responsibility for mankind’s chosen method of procreation rests entirely on your shoulders.” Winter warns. “You better bring your A-game.”

Her words wash over you, your mind already onto the rest of the night—“I’ll get the bill.”

-

As much as you try to prevent it, there’s still an awkward tension between the two of you during the drive back to your apartment. Winter sits silently in the passenger seat the entire ride, hands busy fidgeting with the straps of her purse, her brows furrowed as she is clearly trying to calm her own nerves and distract herself from the arrangement at hand.

It’s not until you’re through the doors of your studio apartment that Winter speaks.

“So this is where the scientist lives,” Winter says, taking in your home. Your apartment is small—utilitarian and minimalist. A kitchenette, a bathroom, and a living room that bleeds into a bedroom, separated by a bookcase. “Where the magic happens.”

She steps carefully through the doorway, her footsteps are so soft that if you weren’t seeing her right in front of you, you wouldn’t even know she was there. It’s jarring for you—seeing her, seeing someone so lovely walk through your usually bland apartment. She takes her time wandering around your home, taking purchase of the few photos you have on display, before ultimately stopping on the bookcase in the centre of your apartment.

“You have good taste,” she says, pulling out a book and inspecting the back cover.

You watch her—you can tell she’s nervous, you can see the tension in her shoulders, and you wonder if maybe you had let things get too far. You know she’s here under absurd circumstances, and you’re surprised she’s going along with it.

But still, you didn’t want to do anything she didn’t want to.

“Everything we said in the restaurant—it’s just words, Winter,” you say, and Winter turns to you, closing the book she had been flipping through. “It’s okay if you’ve made up your mind on sex—if you don’t want to go through with this, we can call it a night.”

Winter carefully places the book back in its spot on the shelf, a small, soft smile on her face as she does. “No, I agreed to this. I trust you. But thanks for asking.”

It only takes a few steps to cross from where you are to Winter, but each one feels like a giant leap.

“I can’t let you chicken out, after all.”

You grin, now at Winter’s side. “I’m gonna enjoy making you eat your words.”

Winter responds, barely a whisper, “you’re going to try.”

You take that final step, closing the distance between you and Winter, and you lift your hand and brush a stray strand of dark hair over her ear. It’s the first time you’ve touched Winter, and it’s the first time you’ve been so close to her, been able to really see her—to see the exact shade of brown her eyes were, to see the effort she put in matching the tint of her eyeliner to her lips, to be totally awestruck in how pretty she is this close.

It’s no longer a simple desire, it’s a need to kiss her, and you move in to take her lips.

But she stops you.

“No kissing,” she whispers, her breathing already short.

“What?” You ask in a matching whisper.

“Science, remember?” Winter says quietly. “This is about sex only. No romance is necessary. So—no kissing.”

You bite your tongue, taking a beat to calm down, your eyes still lingering on her pink lips, more desirable now than ever before. “Fine.”

“Maybe,” Winter says, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes, “maybe you should get undressed?”

“Science doesn’t have to be so formal,” you reply. “I’m starting to see why your other experiences didn’t go so great.”

Your comment earns you an eyeroll from Winter, but she’s distracted long enough for you to once again touch her face, cupping her chin and stroking her cheek with your thumb. Winter leans into your palm, but still makes sure to repeat, “no kissing.”

“I know,” you reply, finding her waist with your other hand. You gently nudge her towards you so that you only need to lean slightly to place a kiss on the curve of her neck.

“Mmm,” an involuntary hum leaves Winter’s mouth and meets your ears, as she tilts her head to the side to give you better access to the smooth, soft skin of her neck. “I said, no -”

You keep going, leaving more kisses on her vanilla-white skin, relishing in the aroma of her citrus-scented perfume, in the feeling of the goose bumps that arise in reaction to your lips, and in the subtle shifts in her body as your hands slowly begin to move.

Slow is key, tonight was about Winter—about making her feel comfortable and making her feel good.

Your hands familiarise themselves with her lithe body—the slope of her hips, the small of her back, you deliberately take your time to cover every inch of her. Her breaths grow harsher as your hands get closer and closer to her more sensitive zones, but you purposely avoid them.

“You’re wasting time,” Winter says, a weak attempt to convince herself you weren’t already starting to raise her arousal, but her small quivers in reaction to your touch tell you all you need to know.

“Your body seems to disagree.”

You pull Winter closer to you, and she wraps her arms around your neck in turn, pressing her body up against you, and resting her head against your chest. She feels so right, held up against you this close, allowing herself to be touched, inviting you to explore more of her body.

“We should probably go to your bed, right?” Winter asks breathlessly.

“We will,” you answer, sinking your right hand down her back, tracing the curve of her ass, taking a moment to fully appreciate its firmness in the your hand, a single cheek fitting perfectly into your palm. You give her cute ass a courteous squeeze, before dragging your fingers along the side of her hip to the front of her jeans and down to the fraught area between her thighs.

“Ohh…” Winter gasps the second your fingers brush over her erogenous zone—even separated from your fingertips by denim, she’s still sensitive to the pressure of your touch over her mound. “This isn’t…”

Your other hand moves from her back and up her side, wandering over her pastel-blue sweater, to eventually find and fondle a small yet still soft and perfect breast. She shivers under your touch, but you remain focused, still kissing into her neck, still listening to her every heavy breath that you provoke elicit from her hot body.

“This isn’t how it usually goes…”

You lift your lips from her neck, asking her, “has anyone touched you like this before?”

“N-no…” Winter shudders as you squeeze her firm, round breast again, while your other hand is still pressed up between her thighs.

“And how does it feel?”

Winter bites her lip, trying, but failing, to hold back another moan, before offering reluctantly—“good.”

“Then maybe now we should take care of these clothes.”

You don’t miss the whimper from Winter’s lips when your hands leave her body, taking the hem of her sweater in your fingers. You bend down, low enough so you’re crouching, and begin to slowly roll the sweater up and off her body.

Her body is as tight as you imagined, her figure so slim and irresistible, and your lips meet her skin again, this time kissing her flush on her bellybutton, causing her stomach to draw in a sharp inhale.

You continue your kisses up her firm, tight abs, toned from countless hours of practicing and performing. You lift her sweater higher and higher, revealing more of her body to you as you make your way upwards. You can’t hold back the smile from your face when your lips meet the lining of her bra, at last having lifted her sweater high enough to expose her breasts.

“Mmmph!” Winter moans into the sweater, now halfway off her body, but lifted high enough to cover her face and keep her arms trapped above her head.

“Hold on a second,” you say, laughing to yourself at the sight of Winter stuck in such a position. You manage to fit both of Winter’s wrists in one hand, while using the other to lift her white, cotton bra over her small mounds.

She protests from underneath the sweater, but you’re too captivated by the sight of her, her completely exposed torso—the lovely, creamy-white skin of her dancer’s figure, and her supple breasts, her nipples so mouth-watering, already stiff with arousal.

Winter doesn’t struggle against your grasp over her wrists, and you place your other hand on her back, nudging her closer to you and allowing you to take a delicious, pink nipple into your mouth.

“Umph!” She moans again, muffled, as your tongue meets her stiff bud, licking and sucking at the soft flesh. You take care to lather her breast generously with your saliva, indulging yourself in her body, switching between both nipples, making sure to fondle and squeeze her other free breast when you do.

You make the most of it—make the most of her pleased sighs and shivers, of your lips against her skin, your tongue swirling around her nipple, and you can feel her body get hotter and hotter as you savour more and more of her. Her hips urge themselves forward, needing to be attended to, to be touched, but you instead redouble your efforts on her chest.

As much as you want to spend more time attending to her chest, you remind yourself that it’s about Winter, and you lift your mouth off her breasts, letting go of her wrists above her head. You free her from her clothing, lifting the sweater fully over her head, taking her bra with it, and helping it off her arms and tossing it aside.

You’re immediately taken aback by the look on her face—her eyes, once intense, and captivating, are now heavy and full of lust—her face is flushed red with heat, and her mouth hangs open to take in deep, panting breaths.

You rise back upright, looking down at Winter straight into her eyes. She looks up at you, face awash in a haze of arousal, and you see her mind catch up with her basest desires. She steps forward, bunching up your shirt in her hands, and pulls you down to her eye-level, but still needing to stand up on her toes to take your lips for her own.

She meets you with passion, bringing you into kiss that is instantly deep, and you find out just how sweet she tastes, how plump her lips are, how soft her tongue is against yours. She keeps her hands in your shirt, pulling you closer and closer, until you’re pressing her back into the bookcase, and the tips of her nipples are pressed up against the centre of your chest.

You brace yourself on the bookcase behind her, urging your bodies together, feeling the ache of your cock strain against your own pants as Winter starts to grind her hips against your groin.

It feels good—feels wonderful—to be this intimate with Winter, to drink her in through her frenzied kiss, but you know that as much as you want more, you need her to feel more.

You pull back from her, breaking her kiss, her tongue slipping out of your mouth, a strand of saliva bridging your lips for a moment.

She looks indignant at your boldness to end your make-out and leans forward and tries to pull you into her again, but you resist her, holding her firmly against the bookcase.

“Patience,” you say, your voice coming out as more of a growl than you intended. Winter obeys, keeping herself still as you return your lips to her, kissing her cheek, down her jawline, and returning to the elegant curve of her neck.

You’re already in love with her body—love her flushed, perfect skin, as you take a tour of Winter with your lips—all the way from her collarbone, to her shoulder, revisiting her pert breasts and ending on her tight waist, all the while sucking and licking and tasting Winter.

The button on her jeans is easily undone, as is the zip, but it still takes some effort from her to help you wiggle her out of her jeans.

You have no care for the flats on her feet, unclasping the straps and tossing them over your shoulder to join her sweater, allowing you to drag her jeans off her long, slender legs.

Now it’s your turn to look up at her in all her tight, vanilla perfection—able to enjoy the view of her in her entirety—from her smooth legs, leading all the way up to her white cotton panties, her toned, flat waist, her small, perky breasts, and the natural, youthful beauty of her face. Her eyes remain locked onto yours, making no effort to hide her blatant, seductive hunger, relishing at the sight of you at her feet and on your knees.

You hold her gaze, you want her to watch, want her to see you worship her body, all the way from the very bottom to the top—starting by lightly kissing the tips of the toes on her right foot. Her body reacts like it’s been shocked with an electrical current, shooting from her feet all the way to her head, tingling at the feeling of your lips against her toes.

“My feet—they’re—they’re dirty,” she whispers, but you ignore her, kissing up the bridge of her foot. She adjusts herself, leaning back against the bookcase, and stretches her leg out for you, purposefully lengthening herself and lifting her foot off your carpet.

You take her foot into your hands, so smooth and petite, much like the rest of her, and pepper her skin with kisses, taking your lips up to her ankle, her shin, the crook of her knee, and finally, the smoothness of her lightly-toned thighs.

“Yes…” Winter squirms and moans as your lips make contact with the inside of her right thigh, so warm and soft. You’re close enough to see the wetness soaking through the white cotton of her panties, staining her underwear with her heat and her scent.

She reaches down as you get closer up her inner thigh, threading her fingers through the back of your head, gently coaxing you towards her pussy. You see her face, her eyes now closed, her lips pursed tightly as she braces herself to feel you against her heat.

Her legs spread ever so slightly for you and Winter gasps as your lips find the groove of her inner thigh. Her hand tugs on your hair slightly, bringing you over to her centre, but you move your head further along and past her pussy, teasing her by taking her other thigh with your lips.

She groans at the missed encounter, but it’s vital for you to take your time with her- the build-up was as important as the action itself. She seems resigned to letting you do what you want, arching her back and pushing her hips off the bookcase to give you more, if only just a little bit of herself, until finally you run your hands up the sides of her gorgeous legs to find the elastic of her underwear.

A long-held sigh escapes her lips when you pull down her soaked panties, carefully pulling them down her legs and off her feet, rendering her completely naked for you. Her eyes are still clenched closed in anticipation, and you decide she’s waited long enough.

“Ahhhh…”

You dive into Winter, the soft hair of her mound and her scorching heat consumes your tongue, and you’re rewarded with a long, airy moan—an absolutely beautiful, melodic sound.

Her hand tightens in your hair, almost painfully so, and you give her one long, slow lick, all the way from the bottom of her hot slit to the very top. Her thighs start to shake on either side of you, her hips grind down on your tongue, and she moans once more, just as long and satisfied as the first.

“Please… So good…” Winter pulls you by the hair deeper into her, and you’re more than happy to oblige, taking care of her, taking care of her needy pussy with long, slow slurps, swiping up and down her folds, making sure to put extra effort each time you reach her engorged clit.

She trembles and moans with each swipe of your tongue, her grinds become more urgent, and her pussy becomes wetter and wetter, and hotter and hotter with every successive lick. She tastes so good, feels so good, even though you’re the one on your knees you feel a power over her, able to control the shaking of her body, and the pitch and frequency of her moans using only the tip of your tongue.

You moan into her pussy, humming into her wet, slick folds, before taking her clit, stiff and ready at the very peak of her mound, into your mouth, putting her at the mercy of your tongue. You take the back of her thighs into your hands, keeping her in place as you work her clit, paying attention to each shift in her thighs and hips, finding the best rhythm and angle to pleasure Winter.

“Your tongue… So good… You’re eating me so good…” Winter grabs the back of your head with both hands now, pulling as much of you as she can into her, leaving you to lick and slurp more and more of her juices onto your tongue. You’d think you’d be used to her moans by now, but they’ve become like music to your ears—your favourite song that you demand to hear on repeat.

You take your right hand from her thigh, bringing it around and up her thighs, pushing into her entrance with two of your fingers. Her pussy—so wet, so drenched—clamps around your fingers, her lips forming a tight seal as you penetrate her. You barely move your fingers inside her and you can feel her legs crumble, her knees weaken on either side of you, her body turned helpless by the pleasure you are giving her.

Her voice rises in pitch to the motions of your tongue and your fingers, and you can feel she’s already on the precipice of her climax. You turn your fingers upwards, pulling them towards you as if you were pulling a trigger, targeting the exact spot that when stimulated in sync with your tongue against her clit that makes her -

“I—I—I’m - ”

She never gets to finish her sentence, the last words dying on her lips and swallowed by a harsh gasp as her entire body becomes rigid and Winter is overwhelmed by the sensations you’re giving her from your tongue and fingers.

You never stop your assault on her pussy throughout her orgasm, Winter freely rolls her pussy against your tongue, juices flooding your mouth and dripping down your chin. You drink it all, drink all of Winter into your mouth, savouring the bittersweet taste of her as she quivers and squirms on you.

After the last spasms of her orgasm her legs give way, and her body folds over you. Winter’s hands brace themselves on your head and shoulders to keep herself upright through the remainder of her orgasm, catching herself on you.

It takes a while for her to find her strength in her legs again, but it doesn’t matter, you lovingly lick and kiss softly around her pussy, cleaning up the mess between her thighs. Your fingers slide out of her, returning to the back of her legs.

Satisfied that she’s able to stand on her own two feet, you lift your head out from between her thighs, to see Winter, struggling to catch her breath, her hands having left your hair and her body leaning back against the bookcase once more.

She takes notice of you through half-lidded eyes, her picturesque face now shining under a sheen of sweat, with messy strands of matted black and pink hair on her forehead. You make a show of wiping her juices off your chin, and then licking the back of your hand clean.

“That was -” Winter fails to complete her sentence through her short breaths. You rise to your feet, standing over her, bending down to kiss her. Your kiss is softer, warmer, and she moans into your mouth, slipping her tongue between your lips. It’s short, but ends with her in your arms, her own hands clasped behind your back, holding her naked body against you.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done yet,” you say, “but I’m happy to see you’re enjoying the experience so far.”

Winter chuckles softly into your chest, clarifying, “eating pussy and having sex are two different things. But you are very adept at the former.”

“It’s all part of the package,” you reply. You separate from the hug, reluctantly peeling Winter off you. You take her by the hand and are struck by how natural it feels—her fingers interlink perfectly with yours, like this is where her hand should have been all along—where it belonged.

You lead her the short distance to your bed, and Winter turns on her heels by herself. You take her by the shoulders, guiding her down to sit at the foot of the bed, so that you’re standing before her.

“Now, I’ll undress,” you say, and start to unbutton your dress shirt. Winter’s eyes remain on your chest, taking in your body as you gradually undo one button after another.

She looks so sexy seated on your bed in front of you, waiting patiently, exposing herself completely to you, her heaving breasts and her glistening thighs on display just for you.

You let your shirt fall from your shoulders, off your arms and onto the ground, and move to unclasp your belt, only to notice Winter’s gaze, now locked onto the tent that had formed underneath your dark pants, your cock close to bursting out of the fabric keeping it trapped.

Her mouth is open, practically salivating at the very noticeable bulge hidden by your pants. You step forward, her lips a mere inch away from your covered erection.

“You made me this hard, Winter. This is your responsibility.”

Winter doesn’t miss a beat, reaching out with her soft, delicate fingers, deftly unfastening your belt and unbuttoning your pants. She pulls down enough of your boxer-briefs to graciously set your cock free at last—it flicks out from the strap of your waistband and catches her off guard, brushing past her lips before she has a chance to completely move out of the way.

Her eyes widen at both the shock of your cock on her lips so quickly and at the sight of your full erection. She’s enraptured by your cock, by your hardness, and gingerly, she reaches out and wraps her fingers around you. Her hand feels so warm, so pleasant, and her mouth is dangerously close to you to the point that you can feel her warm breath on your tip. You flex your cock in her hand, catching her by surprise once again, but she tightens her grip in response, a mischievous smile forming on her face.

“My turn,” Winter says, breathing onto your cock. “My turn to make you feel good.”

“Do your worst,” you reply, “or your best, I guess.”

Winter smirks at your answer, and a second later she has both hands wrapped around your length and gives the head of your cock a tender kiss that you feel throughout your whole body.

Another second passes and your cock is past Winter’s lips—no preamble, no build-up, just an impatience to have you in her mouth as soon as possible.

She’s inexperienced, you can immediately tell, playing around with the angle of your cock in her mouth, feeling it out against her cheeks, on the flat of her tongue, barely able to take half of your shaft into her mouth before it hits the back of the throat and she starts to gag.

It’s as amusing as it is arousing, watching Winter, her tongue haphazardly licking and swirling around your head, her lips constantly adjusting and readjusting around your shaft. Her hands move out of time, eagerly exploring around your length and your balls, feeling the weight of you in the palm of her hand.

She watches you as she experiments with your cock, enjoying the different reactions she can get when she tries a new angle to take you into her mouth, or applies her tongue differently to the underside of your cock, or mixes the tightness of her grip and motions of her hands up and down your shaft.

It takes a while, but you’re not in a rush, content to lovingly stroke her hair as she looks up at you expectantly, until eventually, she somehow cracks the code of the perfect combination of her lips, her tongue, and her hand around you, and steals from you an involuntary groan that takes even you by surprise.

“Fuck, Winter,” you sigh, and you see the corners of her mouth turn upwards, a wicked grin forming around your cock.

Her lips seal around you, creating a tight suction around your shaft, and you gasp as she picks up a rhythm to pump your cock. You should’ve known she would be a fast learner—she doesn’t waste any more time, enthusiastically sucking you into her mouth in time with the pumping of her hands on the base of your cock.

Winter gets more comfortable with each entry and exit of your cock into her lips, more confident, able to take a little bit more of your length each time, starting to figure out how to relax her throat in the right way to swallow you into her hot mouth.

You can see the wheels turning in her head—it’s now a game to her—how deep can she take you, how good can she make you feel, and you know by the end of it all she’ll have surely won.

Winter bobs her head back and forth on you, no shame of making a mess of her own saliva on your cock, drooling out the corners of her pursed lips as she takes your slick shaft in and out of her mouth. You’ve experienced your own fair share of blowjobs, but you’ve never been subject to one by someone so eager to please, so happy to make you happy with only her hands, her tongue, and her lips.

Sounds of her slurping and sucking fill your ears, and each time her head draws back from your shaft she leaves it covered in a new sheen of her saliva, marking her territory on your cock.

The sight alone is enough for you to feel the familiar sensation building up inside of you, the trembles of pleasure triggered by her wet, warm mouth being filled again and again with your length. It’s overwhelming, being able to defile such an angelic face with your cock, seeing someone so beautiful perform something so filthy.

You’re all of a sudden made aware of how tight you’re holding the back of her head, and how you’ve begun subconsciously moving your hips in time with her sucking, feeding her more and more of you.

You’re getting close, achingly so, nearly losing yourself in Winter’s hot lips and wet tongue endlessly swirling around you, no longer inexperienced, but close to becoming a master at driving you wild with her wanton mouth. You don’t want to finish here yet—reminding yourself that this was about her not you—your pleasure would come secondary, at least for tonight.

Regretfully, you draw your hips back, letting your shaft slide out of her lips with a popping noise, trails of her saliva following out after it and down her chin. She chases after your cock with her face, staining her rosy cheeks with her own spit, but you stop her, gently caressing her cheek to let her know that it’s enough.

Winter sighs at not being able to continue her work on your cock, disappointed eyes innocently asking, “was I not good?”

You smile, stroking her lips with the pad of your thumb, wiping away a stray bit of saliva off the corner of her lovely mouth. “Winter—I’m going to fuck you now.”

Winter gasps as you bend down, taking her right thigh in one hand and her upper back in another. She’s so small and light, easily moved up the bed so she’s spread out on the centre of the mattress.

You join her on the bed, moving on your hands and knees, positioning yourself over her, looking down on her underneath you. She looks utterly divine lying naked beneath you, wearing nothing but a pair of heart-shaped earrings and a thin, golden chain around her neck.

Her dark, brown eyes leave a memory you’ll never forget, telling you all you need to know, saying the things she didn’t need to verbalise.

Waiting.

Wanting.

Needing.

You move between her legs, parting her thighs, opening her up to you. You slide your way between her, positioning your cock against her wet slit, it’s just a touch, but Winter whimpers at the first instance your most intimate parts meet.

As much as you want to slide straight into her, to take her then and there, you stop yourself. You keep your eyes laser focused on Winter, watching her face flash through a series of emotions and comprehension, this was the moment you had been anticipating since you started this 'experiment’.

You flex your cock against her, your tip licking her folds, the briefest touch still managing to elicit a reaction in the form of a strained moan from her lips.

She understands your intention, knows you won’t move until she does—you need to see her do it herself. She’s already so hot for you, already desperate for your cock, but she needs to be the one that makes the choice to fuck you.

“Give it—give it to me…” Winter sighs, reaching down and taking your throbbing cock into her hand. She pulls you into her, and you help her efforts, slowly pushing your hips forward to breach her soaking wet entrance. As hot and slick and wet as she is, she’s still so incredibly tight around you, each inch you push into her sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating throughout your body.

Winter’s back arches higher and higher as your cock penetrates her deeper and deeper. Her chest heaves, her hips raise to meet you, and the loveliest sigh releases from her lips. Whether or not she is doing it consciously, Winter squeezes around every inch of your cock, her muscles clenching around you as her pussy accepts you into its warm depths.

“Wait… It’s so…” Winter gasps, slowing your penetration, shifting her hips as she does her best to adjust to your size. “Sooo… big…”

You take the moment as well—her pussy is so agonisingly wonderful, the pleasure of the first penetration into her impossibly tight entrance is nearly enough to send you careening over the edge.

“Is it—?” Winter asks, her eyes now clenched shut, basking in the feeling of your cock inside her.

“Halfway,” you respond.

“Only halfway?”

You don’t want to push her any further than she is comfortable, and as much as it pains you, you say, “we can take a break if you want to.”

“No,” Winter replies quickly and firmly. “I can do this. I can take it.”

“We’ll take it slow,” you say, and you begin to move once more.

You do as you promised, taking it slow, torturously slow, and Winter in turn bites her lips as another inch enters into her, her knuckles turning white as she digs into the bedsheets beneath her. You’re patient with her, letting Winter get accustomed to your cock, just as you have to get accustomed to being in someone so ridiculously tight.

“Yesssss…” It takes what seems like a blissful eternity, but finally the last inch of your cock is engulphed in Winter’s drenched warmth, and your hips kiss at last. It’s indescribable, the feeling of completeness from being inside Winter, and from the flush of her cheeks and the quivering of her lips, you see that feeling mirrored on her lovely face.

Winter’s hands let go of the bedsheets, and her arms reach out, beckoning for you. You lean forward into Winter’s embrace, taking her into your own arms and fall into another of her kisses.

A moan follows her tongue into your mouth, desperate to capture your own tongue, wanting nothing but more of you.

Her hips roll against you, a subtle shift letting you know that you can move, and you begin to grind your hips into her. You start gently at first, withdrawing an inch, and grinding it back into her.

She’s so hot in your arms, her entire body is yours and yours alone to take. When you break your kiss, her arms remained wrapped tightly around your neck, breathing hot gasps into you as you stretch her out with every thrust in and out of her.

She kisses into your neck, whispering words of passion, of love, of arousal, calling for you, needing more.

You get bolder with each thrust, withdrawing more of yourself out of her each time, and pushing forward back into her faster and faster, steadily beginning a patient rhythm to truly fuck Winter. Her pussy pulsates and tightens around you, quivering against you as your hips meet.

Winter’s whispers get louder, split between her kisses against your skin, and soon her quiet gasps are heavy moans, and she’s crying out your name in pure ecstasy.

“Please! Keep going - you’re stretching me out sooo much…”

You make love to Winter, true, passionate love, pleasure rippling through both of your bodies as you move in and out of her. Her arms tighten around your neck, hands bury themselves in the back of your head, and her ankles lock behind your back, her legs pulling you down and deeper into her.

She feels so good, too good, her heavenly, amazing body underneath you, welcoming your cock and moulding her pussy around your shaft. She gets wetter every time you penetrate her, you can feel her juices against you, her wetness dripping out of her pussy and onto the bedsheets below.

“Feels so good… I didn’t know it could feel…” Winter gasps, as her hips urge themselves against you—you can feel her need, her hunger, her desperation for you. “- feel so fucking good!”

Her words flick a switch in your mind, unlocking the part of you that wants nothing more than to make Winter cum. You fight against her legs behind you, pulling your hips back further and slamming your hips down and into her needy pussy.

She moans—an extended, loud mewl of pleasure, and you push as much of your cock as possible up and into her, filling her body completely with your cock. She’s close, you can feel it from her body pressed up against you, her heartbeat thumping at a frantic pace into your chest.

You speed up your thrusts, each pump into her body pushing her closer and closer to her climax, as she relinquishes control over her own pleasure to you. You move at a fevered pace, now wildly pistoning into her, moans and cries and sounds of skin against skin echoing off the walls of your apartment.

“Yes—yes!” Winter gasps, “so deep—right there—right fucking there!”

You fuck her like that for several long minutes, feeling nothing but Winter—her long limbs wrapped around you, her tight body pressed up against you, her gasps and moans filling your ears, until—Winter breaks.

Her orgasm becomes a full-body experience, a quake that starts with tremors at the point of where your two bodies meet, before rippling out throughout her body in waves of quivers and shakes. Her entire body tenses, her thighs squeeze into your sides, her body presses down on you, squashing her breasts against your chest.

Her pussy clenches around your cock, tightening and squeezing, a heat pulsating around you and sending shivers up and down your spine. Her hands clutch desperately onto your shoulders, holding onto you for dear life as she’s overcome by euphoric pleasure.

You keep your pace, never stopping or slowing down, intent on making Winter feel every type of pleasure possible. Winter’s eyes are shut, but her face remains mere inches away from yours—you get to watch every single ripple of bliss, every sigh and moan, every hot breath that leaves her as she experiences a true orgasm.

Her orgasm is intense, it’s captivating, and it’s so fucking hot.

“Yesss!”

It takes time, but Winter’s body rolls through the last vestiges of her orgasm, and when she’s done, she pulls you into a kiss that is as intense as it is passionate, as if trying to find a way to convey even a tiny portion of how you made her feel.

You accept her kiss, accept her feelings, but it ends just as quick as it began, and she lets her body rest beneath you.

It takes several long, deep breaths for Winter to come down from her orgasm, to recover some composure after totally losing herself over to her own body. When she does, she makes an effort to whisper clearly into your ear, “you’ve proved your point. Now—let me ride you.”

You mindlessly obey, desperate to have Winter ride you, and you hook your arms behind her back, holding onto her shoulders, and in a single motion you roll onto your back, taking Winter with you, your cock remaining embedded inside her pussy the whole way.

Adjusting to her new position on top of you, Winter pushes off your shoulders and out of your grasp, sitting straight up, straddling your waist. She smiles, satisfied at seeing you beneath her, feeling you under her, and in turn you’re granted the visage of Winter’s naked body atop you, her bare-naked chest, nipples still taut and begging to be sucked once more.

You try to sit up to better seize her breasts into your mouth, but Winter catches you by your shoulders and pushes you back down into the bed, bracing herself on top of you.

“Let me do this,” she chides, “lie back and let me make you cum.”

You do as she says, but still reach out with your hands—one finding her hips, the other taking one of her soft, round breasts. She trembles under your touch, momentarily closing her eyes to enjoy the feeling of your hands on her, before opening her eyes again and preparing to ride you.

She lifts her hips off you, a slow inch at a time, sliding your cock out of her to the point where her pussy is barely hanging on to the head of your cock, the tip kissing the edges of her folds.

And then she sits back down.

“Ohhhh….” Winter sinks her hips as excruciatingly slow as she can, devouring your length into the tight, hot walls of her pussy. She’s wetter than ever before, her juices bathing your cock and staining your waist. You were already close, but Winter seems intent on keeping you right on that knife’s edge of pleasure.

She rides you, moaning and trembling on your cock, drunk on the feeling of impaling herself on your cock. All you can do is tighten your grip on her hip and squeeze and fondle her breast, giving yourself over to the pleasure Winter is wrecking upon you.

You want to take control, want to seize her by the hips and fuck her back, to kiss and lick all over her tight, sweaty body, but Winter’s grip remains strong on your shoulders, urging you to stay down while she fucks you with her hot little pussy.

You look at Winter’s face, she’s unabashedly smiling, her eyes awash with pleasure and euphoria and affection, enjoying watching your own expressions as her hips rise and fall on your cock. You are struck by an obvious realisation that makes your cock throb even harder inside her suffocatingly tight pussy—Winter is enjoying this.

Winter reads the grin that appears on your face, and chooses that exact moment to suddenly, mercilessly, pick up her pace and slam her hips down on your cock.

“Fuck!” You shout, and Winter digs into your shoulders, not even giving you a second to breathe before lifting herself wholly off your cock again and slamming her hips back down.

Like all things, Winter is a natural at riding you, fucking you with a quick, mind-breaking rhythm. She clenches when your hips meet, and relaxes as her hips rise, flexing and tightening in all the most gratifying ways around you.

Your lovemaking drove Winter to her orgasm, and now Winter’s fucking is fast bringing you to yours. Her fucking is fierce, intoxicating, and overloads your every sense with only the feeling of unbearably hot pussy.

She can feel you throb and pulse inside her, and she chooses that moment to stare into your eyes and say with conviction—“Cum for me. Inside. I need to feel it inside me.”

Your mind races, hooked on the feeling of her cunt, so very willing to do what she asked, but the rational part of your brain tries to voice its concern, only instead coming out as—“Winter!”

“I want this, ” Winter gasps, “I want you—now—cum inside me!”

You take your hand away from her breast, joining your other hand in taking the other side of her hips, digging your fingers into her slim waist, and holding on for dear life as she forces you as deep as she can inside her, determined to drain the orgasm she so desperately hungered for from your cock.

“Like that—feels so fucking good—fucking me so good—give me your cum!”

Winter slams her hips back onto you, completely impaling herself on your cock, burying your full length within her tight body. She presses herself against you, melding her body with yours, making it impossible to tell where your body begins and hers ends.

She captures your mouth with hers, taking your breath away, and pulling from you an orgasm that courses through every ounce of your being.

You can’t help but moan in Winter’s mouth at the first hard pulse of your cock inside her, hitting the deepest part of her hot, tight pussy. She moans back, her tongue wildly searching your mouth for your own, as her depths overflow with shot after shot of your thick, creamy semen.

The sensation is too much, too overwhelming, and it seems like the whole word stops—nothing matters except your two bodies pressed together in that moment.

You hold Winter against you, you’re not sure for how long—she’s still kissing you well after your orgasm has ended and every drop of cum you had has been wrung from your cock and emptied inside her.

It’s several seconds after that before her lips leave you, and it’s only when you feel your softening cock slip out of Winter’s well-used pussy that your senses come back to you.

A blend of your shared lovemaking seeps out of her, following after your cock, staining both your thighs and leaking onto the bed below, but both of you are far two drained to care about that at all.

For now, all that matters is Winter—an ethereal, beautiful, naked mess, who is more than content to lay atop you.

She places her index finger under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re face-to-face with hers. Her face is beet-red, glowing in the aftermath of your shared orgasms and covered in a sheen of sweat. She smiles—a wide, genuine smile—an expression of completion, of pure satisfaction, tinted with shades of affection.

“So,” she says.

“So,” you repeat. An idea strikes you, and you clear your throat, putting on your most manly voice and you say, “that was great babe—was it good for you too?”

That comment earns you a playful slap to your chest, but also a laugh that makes your heart soar. “Hah-hah. Very funny.”

“I’m serious,” you protest, “be honest with me—have I done enough to prove you wrong?”

Winter sighs, her chest heaves, and her face scrunches up, thinking on your question for a beat too long. “No.”

You nearly shoot up, if only she wasn’t currently lying on top of you. “Did you not say—and I quote—I didn’t know it could feel so fucking good—right before cumming all over me?”

Winter strokes her chin, placing an arm down on your chest and propping herself up on her elbow, amusement dancing across her face. “First of all—crass. Second of all—my initial theory about sex hasn’t been disproven. It’s like you said—insufficient sample size.”

“But you just—”

“I just came—harder than anyone’s ever made me cum before. Harder than I’ve even made myself cum before.” Winter finishes your sentence for you, punctuating it with a soft peck on your lips, shutting you up. “Twice.”

Somewhere you hear trumpets blare triumphantly, a studio audience applaud, and fireworks off in the distance.

Your ego grows several sizes.

“But—all you’ve demonstrated is that you’re the exception—not the rule—an outlier,” Winter says, making sure to enunciate each of her words clearly. “Yeah babe—it was great for me too. It was fucking amazing. Still—”

“You need to be sure it’s not just a one-off,” you conclude. “Insufficient sample size.”

“Exactly.” Winter grins—a naughty, knowing grin.

And then you read her mind. “So I guess—the experiment’s not over then?”

Winter adjusts herself atop you—her hand runs through your hair, her thighs spread just a little, and her pussy—her previously, well-fucked pussy, grinds against you.

You swell.

“There’s plenty more tests for us to run.”

FINDINGS ft. Winter

winter x male reader smut

10k words

a sequel to… EXPERIMENTS

“I want to be clear upfront. I’m not going to have sex with you.”

Your words bring the conversation to a screeching halt, and it takes a moment for Winter to process the ridiculous sentence you just said, words that even you can’t believe came out of your own mouth.

But then Winter just smiles—unbothered, irresistible—and replies—"a little late for that, don’t you think?“

"I mean not tonight,” you clarify, before adding, “tonight I just want to talk.”

“Oh.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve attempted this conversation with Winter, but you’re determined to make sure it’s the last.

See, the first “experiment” with Winter was quickly followed by the second—solely under the innocent pretence of figuring out whether or not that first time where you made her feel (in her words) “so fucking good”—was a fluke. But then of course that required a third test, and then a fourth, and soon you were all too willingly being introduced to every inch of the young idol’s body.

Since then you’ve become the leading expert in all the ways to make Winter writhe and moan and scream, and she’s become so very talented at making you yearn for her every second she’s not around, to the point where you are both well and truly prepared to submit your joint dissertation on just how good you can make each other feel.

But despite all that, despite all the late nights and early mornings—those magical hours when the rest of the world slept, and time stopped for just you and Winter—you still haven’t been able to put a label on exactly what the two of you are.

Which leads you back to now—long past midnight and alone in your apartment, face to face with one Kim Minjeong. Attempting to define once and for all what your relationship is, rather than remain in this state of being not quite friends, not exactly romantic lovers, more like—

“So no time for a quick experiment, partner?” Winter asks, entirely unsubtle with her use of your shared euphemism.

It’s so easy for her to make you regret your chosen course of action, especially when she’s standing right in front of you looking like this. She’s wearing a ludicrously sized overcoat, so you don’t even get a chance to gawk at her petite, slender body that you know is hidden underneath. Not that it matters anyway, considering it’s her face—the single dimple on her cheek, the near-imperceptible dip of her lovely, pink lips, and her eyes—so flawless and angelic, that seizes your heart.

Even still, it’s not just about the way she looks—Winter carries herself with that ephemeral thing that all devastatingly beautiful people of her calibre have. It’s the air of self-confidence, of complete comfort in her own skin, built from years of absorbing the stares of envy and lust from every single human encounter she’s had up until this point.

Winter’s gaze remain fixed to you, dancing across your body, making you feel naked underneath the stare of her wide, undeniably gorgeous eyes. She asks, “are you sure?”

Of course I’m fucking not—is what you want to say, but it’s pointless considering you’re both well aware of how easy it would be for Winter to change your mind.

But instead, you reiterate. “Just for tonight, Winter. We need to talk.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Winter says, her demeanour instantly changing. She turns from you, crossing the apartment and sauntering past you, and you forget for a moment that it’s your apartment that the two of you are in and that she’s the guest.

All that is washed away by the sight of her walking by, turning your apartment floor into her very own runway—it’s in the lightness of her steps, the sway of her hips, the practiced, model-esque strides she makes—it takes more than a coat to hide the way she moves.

It’s now that you’re noticing the backpack she’s been wearing the whole time, impractically small and bulging with what appears to be a small package held within. It’s the coat, the backpack, the hair—long, blonde, and tied in two twin-tails—that sets off the alarm bells in your head telling you to stop her before it gets too far.

By now, it’s more than clear that Winter is not going to make it easy for you.

She’s already made her way to her favourite spot in your apartment, taking off her backpack and plopping herself down on the corner of your large, plush cloud couch. She mercifully breaks the silence. “So.”

The couch you’d picked together is large enough that you could both lay down side by side and still have room to spare, and when you purposefully join her on the opposite side, the distance you create between the two of you earns you a light giggle.

“Wow, you really must be serious.” She’s right—you can usually count the seconds between her entering your apartment and your clothes coming off. “So, tell me—what do you want to talk about?”

“Your hair,” you blurt out without even thinking. Winter blinks. You distinctly remember being more eloquent prior to meeting Winter. “I mean—what’s up with your hair?”

Winter raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “There’s a nicer way to ask that, you know?”

“Right—sorry—just surprised. Twin-tails? Your hair was,” you gesture with your hand, “here yesterday.”

“The wonders of extensions,” Winter says, stretching out in an all-too-unsubtle way, trying to hide her shuffling across the couch and closer to you. “You really want to waste time talking about my hair? When you could be—oh, I don’t know—pulling on it?”

You swallow, determined not to be swayed by her blatantly obvious attempt to steer the conversation. You strategically choose to ignore her, she was far too smart to engage with directly, and you try to press on past it. “Minjeong, I’ve been thinking.”

“Glad to hear it,” Winter interrupts, but you soldier on.

“About us.”

“That sounds less promising.”

“No, not like that—obviously,” you roll your eyes. While the definition of whatever this is has gone unspoken, the one thing that is for certain is that neither of you wants it to end.

“Obviously,” Winter echoes back, that smile returning to her face, and you swear she’s moved even closer.

“Right, what I want to say is—what are you doing?”

Winter leans forward, unceremoniously undoing the buttons on her coat, letting the oversized garment fall off her shoulders. In one, casual motion, Winter wipes from your mind every word of the speech you had painstakingly rehearsed.

You expected this—you know better than this—but it’s Winter, and it’s the pristine, short, white skirt that rides a little too low, and the chequered, pastel-blue tank top that barely tries to cover anything at all. It’s her midriff—her toned, tight stomach, her well-earned abs—and it’s the hint of cleavage—the chance glimpse of the perfectly small and perky breasts that’s kept hidden underneath. It’s all of it, all of her, and it’s capped off with a bow right at the centre of her chest, begging to be—

“Let me take a guess—you’re thinking of unwrapping me, aren’t you?” Winter catches you red-handed, her smile now spread into a wicked grin, and she’s taken advantage of the distraction to have somehow closed the distance between the two of you.

“God, Winter, every time I try this we just end up—”

You could’ve sworn you only blinked, but it’s apparently enough time for Winter to have crossed the length of the couch and taken your lips—her hands cupping your cheeks, kissing you softly, leaving you with the taste of vanilla and sweetness and everything good in the world.

Her kisses are light and teasing, like silk against your own lips, sneak previews of what is to come next. She marks a trail with her kisses down your cheek and up the slope of your jaw, ending with a small nibble on your ear.

“We just end up what?”

She’s straddling you now, coiling herself around you, moulding her body into yours, fitting perfectly against you like a puzzle piece clicking into place, like this is where she’s meant to be.

It’s instinct by now for you to wrap your arms around her, to draw her into your embrace. You’ve always loved how she felt in your arms—so small, so delicate, so tight. But there’s a strength to her as well—in the tensing of her back as you run your fingers over her warm, soft skin, and in the flex of her legs on either side of you, drawing your own hips forward and forcing her skirt to ride higher up her perfect, creamy thighs.

She makes you forget about everything that isn’t her, letting you indulge in the feeling of having her pressed against you, letting you sink into her lips, her touch. It’s the heave of her chest against yours, the warmth of her breath on your neck, the roll of her hips into your own waist—and your every rational thought is washed away.

Her hands are in your shirt, grabbing fistfuls of cotton, ready to rip off the fabric if necessary, but it’s just as she’s about to claim her victory that you stop yourself—stop her—your hand grabbing her wrist and holding her still.

“Minjeong,” you say, and Winter draws her head back from you, separating from your kiss and looking back at you, face heated and flushed red, eyes desperate and filled with want.

She’s so, so beautiful—the kind of beauty that the greatest artists dedicate lifetimes attempting to capture, and her eyes on you alone forces the air to rush out of your lungs.

You manage to steel yourself, meeting her gaze, and getting to the point of the words you’ve kept bottled up for months now. “I want to know what we are, Winter.”

Winter reaches out with her fingers, and you loosen your grip to let her touch your cheek, let her run her soft fingertips along the side of your face. “We’re…”

She’s no longer looking in your eyes, only following the path her fingers draw on your face, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in the way it often did when she needed to choose her words carefully.

“We’re whatever we need each other to be,” she settles on saying. “And right now I want you to be with me.”

You sigh, relenting, “I know that much, Winter.”

Winter kisses you again, a quick, soft press of her lips against yours—it’s assuring and affectionate, and for now it will have to be enough. “And what I really want right now is to show you what I’ve brought with me today.”

You follow Winter’s gaze to the coffee table next to the couch, where her backpack now sits. “Really?”

“Trust me you’ll like it,” Winter says, “it’s something new.”

“New?” You ask, finding the prospect quite hard to believe, considering how much ground the two of you had covered through your many experiments.

“New,” Winter repeats herself, smiling brightly, eyes alight with mischief. “See—I was also thinking.”

“Now I don’t like the sound of that,” you say mockingly.

“There’s so much we’ve done,” Winter ignores you, now it’s her turn to press on, “I’ve lost count of how many experiments we’ve run in your bedroom—”

“A classic,” you agree, playing along.

“—and I’m pretty sure we’ve covered every possible space in your apartment—”

“All except for the closet.”

“—and we’ve even explored places outside your apartment—”

“Those dressing rooms will never quite be the same.”

“—we’ve used ropes, handcuffs, and so, so many toys—”

“Don’t forget that time with the shower head.”

“—right. So,” Winter says, finally getting around to her grand conclusion. “We’ve tried all these things and all these locations, but there’s still one last thing we haven’t tried. Or should I say, one last place.”

Leave it to Winter to know exactly how to make your heart race. “You don’t mean—?”

There’s a playfulness still in Winter’s smile, but it’s her eyes now—dripping with pure lust and need for you. “Now, would you like to see what’s in my backpack?”

Winter doesn’t wait for your response, only shifts her weight around you, and just so happens to grind herself harder into your lap as she moves. She leans to the side and reaches into her backpack, retrieving from it a small, perfectly cubed box.

She shifts back onto you, again pressing her hips down onto your waist, provoking your arousal, and presents the box to you.

You take it out of her hands, flipping it over to look at the photo on the front—a small, teardrop-shaped toy—and read the discreet label—

Our Naughty Secret

You look back up at Winter, and see the knowing, naughty grin on her face.

You test the weight of the box in your hand—it’s empty.

“What do you think?” Winter asks, her voice low and laced with intention. “Do you want to talk, or do you want to find out how good of a job this toy has done?”

Words fail you—the box slips from your fingers and tumbles to the ground, and your hands are back on her body—where they should be—pulling her closer to you.

Winter falls into you, kissing you again, only now it’s deeper, hotter. You let out a gasp as she moves atop you, grinding in long, slow rolls of her hips, bringing your cock to life. She grasps the back of your neck, sinking you further into her kiss, easing you into the deep water with her.

It’s tender and loving and slow, but before long your new hardness, desperately trying to break free from the confines of your pants, makes it’s presence known, forcefully pressing up and into Winter.

Even through the layers of fabric that separates you—your pants and her panties—the pressure of your cock up against her folds is enough to turn her small hums against your lips into full on moans, opening her mouth to welcome your tongue.

Her tongue meets yours, engaging in a torrid dance, communicating with you her need for you, her delight at being in your arms, at feeling your body against hers.

Eventually Winter’s lips leave yours, and she brings herself even closer to you, tightening her embrace around your neck so she can press herself up against your body and whisper in your ear.

“I know what you want to say…” You can’t see her face with her so close to you, but from the hitch in her breath as she whispers, you can hear the vulnerability in her words. “We can talk about this afterwards… I promise we will. Just—be with me for now. Love me like this for now. Is that okay?”

You nod, kissing into her collarbone, and whisper back, “okay.”

She loosens her arms around you and moves back, creating distance between your bodies so she can look you in the eyes. “Enjoy this. Enjoy me. Look at my bow—I’m a present wrapped up just for you.”

Your hands make quick work of her top—there’s a zipper at her back. Little time is spent appreciating the clothing, you just peel it off her body and throw it over your shoulder and out of sight.

Even though you’ve already committed every single inch of her flawless, petite body to memory, it still kills you each time you get to see her laid bare—to see her naked breasts, so small and creamy and perfect.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Winter says, wearing a smile that might as well be a declaration of victory, “but something tells me you really want to.”

It’s a joke that you even attempted to resist her—she’s a dream personified—an ethereal beauty, so unattainable yet here she is, completely naked and in your lap.

You kiss into her skin, the only way you can prove that she’s real, pressing your lips against the beauty mark that sits above her left breast.

“Fine,” you murmur into her skin, “but we’re talking after this.”

“Sure we are.” Winter laughs, while tilting her head up so you can adorn her chest with more of your kisses.

You bring your right hand around from her back, finding her hip, and then running your fingers up her tight waist, before ending your journey at her perky breasts. Your touch alone is enough to elicit a gasp from her, to make her sigh in pleasure as you fondle a soft, palm-sized breast.

She purses her lips together, trying to hold back a moan as you start to massage her mound. You squeeze into the soft flesh, gently thumbing her nipple, toying with the taut nub.

“Yes,” Winter whispers. She takes your other hand into hers, bringing it up to her chest and placing your palm on her right breast. “Touch me.”

You’re more than eager to comply, happily fondling her lovely, round breasts, teasing her cute nubs. The rolling of her hips becomes more urgent as you dig your fingers into her chest, and she arches her back, desperate to press more of herself into your hands.

She gasps again when you pinch her stiff, caramel nipple, rolling the dime-sized nub between your thumb and forefinger, finding the exact way to touch her to make her say—"just like that.“

Her eyes close shut, her hands return to your neck, and she pulls you down into her chest, needily pushing her breasts up into your face.

You breathe her in—feeling the heat of her body against your lips, inhaling in her scent. She gets hotter under your touch—under your lips—beads of sweat start to run down her neck and onto her chest, giving you a taste of the salty-sweetness of her skin.

You dip your head lower, taking Winter’s breast into your mouth, closing your lips around her nipple, slurping at it greedily. You indulge in her body, treating it like the most delicious meal, like it’s the only sustenance you need—kissing her skin, leaving gentle bites on her chest, sucking down deeply on her nipple, hungrily flicking your tongue against her, covering her breast in your saliva.

Winter let’s out a high-pitched squeal as you make the most of her perky breasts—she oohs and aahs at each brush of your tongue and graze of your teeth, and moans loudly when you suck down on her nipple, all while you freely grope into her other breast with your hand.

Her fingers find the back of your head, tangling her fingers through your hair as you move to her other breast, giving it the equal squeezing, pinching and sucking that it deserves.

You could spend hours on her chest, but Winter stops you before you get carried away, pulling back on your hair and away from her dusky, saliva-soaked nipples, tilting your head up so you’re captured in her pleading, lustful gaze.

"Please,” she whimpers, “I need you—now.”

“You already have me.”

Winter pulls your own shirt off your body, throwing it in the same direction that her top went, using it as a momentary distraction to loosen your hands from the chest. Before you can be too indignant at the fact that you were no longer cupping her wonderful tits, Winter slips off the couch and down your body, landing onto her knees.

You turn your body with her, as she falls into her actual favourite spot in your apartment—anywhere that’s between your legs.

Winter immediately goes to work—your sweatpants put up little fight against Winter’s experienced fingers, repeating motions she’s performed so many times before. She sets your cock free, sending it flicking out from the strained elastic of your waistband, and letting it stand tall directly in front of her lips.

“You’re already so hard,” Winter says, breathing onto your tip, “so hard just for me.”

You’ve lost count by now the amount of times you’ve found yourself in this exact position, with Winter on her knees before you, yet you’re still unable to hold back the inevitable sigh that escapes your lips when her fingers wrap themselves around your shaft once more.

It only takes a few slow, exploratory strokes of her hand around you for you to already start leaking for her—long gone are the days when she was haphazardly stroking and licking and sucking you, trying to figure out the best ways to make you go wild.

No—Winter doesn’t even need to be paying much attention to your cock at all to know that each pump is bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Instead her eyes remain on you the whole time, never leaving yours.

“And to think you wanted to talk.”

You hear a ghost of a laugh leave her lips before her tongue is upon you—first lapping up the pre-cum across the slit of your head, sending a spike of pleasure shooting straight up your spine and lighting your every nerve ending on fire.

Soon, she’s pressing her tongue flat on your tip, taking her time to relish the feeling of your cock in her mouth. Of all the things Winter’s gotten good at through your experiments, she’s become excruciatingly adept at teasing you.

She’s slow—making wide circles with her tongue around your head, holding your cock steady with one hand, and gripping into one of your trembling thighs with her other.

“Fuck, Winter,” you groan, as she continues the circular motions of her tongue, bathing the head of your cock in a sheen of her drool, letting her saliva slide down your shaft.

She starts stroking you again, matching the timing of her hand with the swirls of her tongue around your head, pumping you in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Her pace is unbearable, enough to make your hips involuntarily buck off the couch, hopelessly trying to push your cock past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth.

But Winter keeps you down with a firm hand on your thigh and a tight grip around your cock—keeping you still, waiting for the exact moment when she knows you can’t take it any longer, when you’re close to breaking free from her hold and grabbing fistfuls of blonde hair and fucking her face as you please—and that’s when she parts her pretty lips and opens up wide, pulling you into her wet, waiting mouth.

“Winter—” you gasp, as she seals her lips around the head of your cock, overloading your senses with waves of pleasure as your length pushes forward into the far reaches of her throat.

“Mmmm…” Winter moans around your cock, her lips vibrating around your shaft. She’s still in no rush at all, bobbing her head up and down your length, each time getting a little closer to the base of your cock, repeatedly testing her own gag reflex.

Winter somehow manages to look so elegant in the way she makes a mess of herself for you—unashamedly sucking and slurping around your length, slobbering all over your cock, moaning in delight as she can feel you throb inside her mouth.

She keeps you sucking you down—tightening her lips, hollowing out her cheeks, making effort to swirl her tongue around your head each time she reaches the tip, and taking a beat to hold your cock against the back of her throat when she takes you back in.

It takes several tries, but Winter eventually is able to relax her throat enough to take your cock all the way into her mouth, kissing the tip of your cock with the back of her throat, and forcing a sound out of you that you had no idea you were even capable of making.

She stays like that—keeping your cock at the back of throat, smiling around your shaft while looking up at you, enjoying the strained expression on your face. Her tongue dares to dart out a little further, slipping out from her bottom lip and sliding it’s way down to your balls, feeling their fullness.

Your hands move on their own volition, reaching out for something to hold onto just so you can withstand the intensity of Winter’s throat just a little longer. Only Winter intercepts your hands, taking them into her own, and then guiding your fingers into her hair, handing each of your palms one of her carefully tied twin-tails.

You look down at her, at her eyes—watery, intense, intoxicating.

And then she winks.

She closes your fingers around her hair and lets go of your hands, and she has just enough time to brace herself on both of your thighs before you start to pull back, dragging her lips all the way up your cock.

She’s made your length so wet and messy that even with her lips sealed tight around your shaft it’s easy to slide her mouth up and off your cock. You take care as you tug back on her hair, but it’s when you have your cockhead balancing on her bottom lip that you pull her back towards you, yanking her hair downwards and forcefully pushing your cock back into her mouth.

“Ungh!” Winter groans and gags around your cock as you push your way back into her throat.

There’s no rest to be had as her lips kiss your base, and you pull her hair back the other way, sliding your cock out of her mouth once more, only to slam your hips forward and yank her hair downwards again, pulling her face back into your lap.

You quickly find your own rhythm—paying her back for her snail’s pace before—adding your hips to the mix as you lift off the couch each time you bring her down on you, doing all you can to feed her more and more of your cock, to use her like she so badly wanted to be used.

To her credit she does her best to add to the pleasure you’re taking from her mouth, using her tongue to lick and swirl and slobber, puckering her lips and sucking you harder, moaning barely intelligible sounds around you, letting you know that this is exactly what she wants.

You make effort to keep your eyes open, to keep your eyes on her—you need to see her, to see the ecstatic look on her face as you fuck her pretty mouth. This was all so new, like every previous blowjob she’d ever given you had been building up to this, to being allowed to wantonly plunge your cock and make her gag, force her to spit and drool and gurgle around your cock.

And despite all that, despite the fact that you’re fucking her face with little abandon, she’s still looking at you, her eyes wide, frenzied, and laser-focused on you—she may be the one on her knees being used, but it’s more than clear to you that she’s still in complete control.

“Mmmmmfff,” Winter moans as you increase your pace, pumping your cock faster and faster into her wet, needy mouth.

Spit starts to leak freely past her lips, tears start to streak down her cheek, her fingernails dig painfully into your thighs—but Winter doesn’t show any sign of wanting to stop, she just takes and takes everything that you can give her.

It’s too much, it’s been too much for far too long, and you can feel that familiar sensation boiling up inside you, the pressure rising and rising, your every atom screaming at you to push your cock as far as it will go down Winter’s hot throat and explode.

“Winter… I-I’m gonna cum.”

Winter suddenly takes over, pushing down on your thighs and lifting her head off your cock. You let her hair slip from your hands as her mouth leave your shaft, leaving behind a strand of saliva that bridges your cock to her lips.

Her hands quickly return back to your cock, wrapping her fingers around your shaft, picking up immediately from where her mouth had left off—feverishly stroking your shaft up and down.

“Do it,” Winter says, “cum for me.”

You sit upright, unable to move at all as Winter squeezes your entire length, pumping you in a corkscrew motion, determined to milk all the cum you had for her.

“Right here—give it to me—right here.” Winter sticks out her tongue, giving your cock one last lick, aiming it directly at the back of her throat.

You give into her, unable to do anything but obey, as thick, white cum bursts from your cock, firing straight into her mouth. Winter keeps jerking you the whole time, swallowing down each shot that paints the inside of her mouth. She keeps licking, keeps flicking her tongue against your head, teasing out every last drop from you.

When you’re done—when you’ve been absolutely drained—you collapse back into the couch. Winter follows after you, hands still wrapped around your length, kissing and licking your twitching cock, covering your shaft with her saliva, massaging your sack with her tongue.

You only have enough energy left to stroke Winter’s hair while she takes care of your spent cock. She leaves playful kisses down your shaft, making sure to give equal attention to your balls.

Only once she’s properly serviced your cock does she swallow, gulping down your entire load in one go, and opening her mouth and presenting her clean tongue to you with an airy ‘ahhh’. 

“God, Winter,” is the most articulate thing you can manage to say. “Seriously—that was…”

“Not enough,” Winter finishes your sentence, leaving more kisses against your thigh. “Come on—help me get ready.“

What little breath you’ve managed to recover is taken from you again when Winter rises to her feet and stands before you, putting herself on display for you.

Winter sighs as you take hold of waist, pulling her body close enough to you that you can kiss into her abs. She inhales sharply as your lips meet her skin, causing her muscles to flex, making you feel the the firmness of her stomach.

Your hands move around to her ass, taking handfuls of her well-sculpted cheeks. You splay your fingers over her skirt, trying to fit as much of her rear into your palms as possible, but it’s as your fingertips stretch closer to the centre of her ass that you find the solid base of her butt plug.

”Ahh!“ You catch Winter off guard as you find the toy, and she reaches down for you, threading her fingers through your hair to steady herself against your face.

You smile, withdrawing your fingers from the plug—you’ll address her ass in due time. Instead, you refocus on her abs, kissing and licking and marking her body.

”Lower,“ Winter hisses, as you extend your tongue out, leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of her abs, over her navel, and further south. It’s when you reach the waistband of her skirt that you tighten your hold on her cheeks, holding Winter against you and spinning her around.

Winter yelps as you throw her onto the couch—it’s a quick motion, you switch places with her so that she’s lying flat beneath you and looking up at you, a wide grin plastered across her face.

It takes your every effort to resist taking her lips again—but you have more pressing matters to attend to. Instead, you place a scant peck on her forehead, then slide down the couch to take position between her long, slender legs.

You hook her left leg under your arm and raise her hips off the couch, allowing you to slot in a pillow underneath her lower back. When you place her back down her skirt flips upwards, exposing to you a pair of cute, cotton-white panties.

Winter lifts her hips for you, giving you space to roll her panties up her thighs. You take her other leg, bringing her legs up high enough that you can dip your head between them, bringing you face to face with Winter’s bare pussy, glistening wet with anticipation.

It’s as enticing as the rest of her—cleanly shaven, thin-lipped, and so mouth-watering. Being this close to it—to it’s scent, it’s heat—it pulls you in like a magnet, and you fall tongue-first into Winter’s pussy.

If it was love at first sight with Winter, it was definitely love at first taste with her pussy. Hers was something you could never tire of—the flavour of her nectar on your tongue, the noises she made at the brush of your lips, how wet she got for you.

You only try a few courteous licks, running your tongue over her folds to sample their slightly-sweet, slightly-bitter taste, but whether from her prior efforts to tempt you, or the sheer pleasure she got from sucking your cock—she’s already far more aroused than you expected.

There’s no more time to be wasted, her clit is already ripe and exposed—an easy target for your tongue.

"Oh—oh, yes,” Winter sighs as you reintroduce your tongue to her swollen clit. You start to draw small circles around her clit, listening as her moans rise in pitch the faster your hungry tongue moves around her.

Winter can’t help herself—she squeezes her thighs on either side of your head, locking her ankles behind your neck and pulling you in, desperate to grind herself against your tongue.

You answer her by taking hold of her thighs, helping her to raise her hips to keep her pussy flush against your mouth. You lay your tongue flat against her folds, sealing your lips around her clit, and slowly, sloppily, you begin to suck.

“God—“ Winter cries out, "God, that feels so good!”

You grin around her clit, relishing the sound of her pleased whines in your ears. She tries again to rock her hips against you, to provoke you into slurping down her pussy faster, but you hold her still by her legs, keeping the pace of your lips and tongue around her engorged clit.

Each lick gets her wetter, each pursing of your lips against her slick, soaking wet pussy takes her deep breaths to pleased sighs, to small whimpers, and to full throaty moans that echo off the walls of your living room. You kiss her, lick her all over her wetness, drinking down her juices like you’re dying of thirst.

“Yes—yes—eat me so good!”

Winter wildly reaches for you, returning her fingers to your hair as she tries to translate just how good you’re making her feel. Her nails dig into your scalp, but you ignore the pain—you don’t even care, it only spurs you to lick faster, to suck on her clit more urgently, swiping up and down with your tongue and lathering her slickness with your saliva

“Ah—ah—yes—your tongue—so—FUCK!”

She pulls you by your hair, forcing you deeper into her, staining your mouth, your lips, your chin, with her sweet honey. She’s trembling before you now, her hips buck and twitch and spread her wetness over your face.

“Yes—yes—yes, yes, yes—” Winter repeats her new mantra, each word becoming shorter, harder to get out.

Her eyes shut, as if lost in a blissful dream, and soon even the simple words she was moaning become unintelligible babble—just a mix of moans and gasps and cries and your name.

“Ah—ah—ah—don’t stop—keep going—you’re making me feel so—”

You can feel it—feel it in the way she starts to spasm against your lips, the way her hips shake, the way her entire body tenses around you, the way she smothers you with her hot, dripping pussy.

Your tongue is starting to ache but you push through—there’s nothing in this world that could stop you from licking, from sucking, until—

“So good—so good—yes—right there—OH!”

Winter’s climax comes crashing down on her, pushing her body over the edge and losing herself to the throes of her own orgasm. She holds you tight, threatening to suffocate you in her cunt, letting her juices freely flow out from her and into your mouth, drowning you in her nectar.

And then, in a loud, throaty declaration of her own joy, she cries out your name a final time as she cums. You stop your licking—you just keep your lips sealed around her, holding her up by her thighs and leaving her to quiver and quake against your mouth as she lets her orgasm wash over her.

When she’s done falling apart and her legs let go of your head, you carefully let her down, gently laying her back onto the couch, and you slip out from between her thighs.

Winter rolls onto her side, holding herself as she tries to recover from the shattering orgasm she just experienced, and incidentally gives you your first true glimpse of the toy nestled inside her ass.

The plug is simple, discreet—a grey colour, made of what you presume is silicone. The base of it is glimmering under the light, bathed generously in the juices that had leaked out of her pussy and down your chin.

You can’t resist—even though she’s still out of breath and barely cognizant—you take a hold of the toy, testing it and giving it an investigative tug. You’re immediately answered with a gasp from Winter, her eyes snapping open as you pull. The toy itself doesn’t even budge, so firmly stuck within her asshole, refusing to let go of the plug.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yes—God yes,” Winter says. She rolls onto her stomach, positioning her belly on the cushion beneath her and tilting her hips upwards, pointing her ass directly up at you. “Keep going. Pull it out.”

You nod—not that she sees—and take it even slower, tugging back on the plug and pulling it out of her asshole.

Winter moans as it stretches her, as it forces her back entrance to widen as the widest part of the toy is pulled out from her ass, until finally, the whole toy slips out with a small ‘pop’.

You place the plug down next to her backpack and return to Winter’s ass. You’ve always been so enamoured with her ass—while not as big or shapely as others, it was so tight, so firm, so perfect.

You bend forward, leaning in to plant a kiss on her left cheek, and then her right, showing your appreciation for her backside. You dare to place more kisses closer and closer to the space between, feeling the rise of goose-bumps against your lips, until your face is between Winter’s cheeks.

You take a hold of her supple ass, spreading her cheeks apart with your hands, and getting your first proper look at her asshole. You can’t resist testing it with your finger, tracing around the rim of her rosebud-pink hole—the one spot of colour in contrast to her pure vanilla-white skin.

It seemed unbelievable to imagine that it just had a butt plug inside it, it looks so tiny, so tight, like it would barely fit anything larger than your pinky—or your tongue.

You decide to test out your theory, leaning forward, dipping your tongue down and reaching for her asshole.

“Oh!” Winter gasps, taken by surprise at the sudden sensation of your tongue against her rim.

You should’ve know that even here she would taste delightful—she’s clearly prepared herself for this—you’re treated to the taste of the lavender body wash that she kept stashed away in your apartment, mixed in with the tang of sweat on her skin.

“God, that feels so, so—” Winter says, her voice a chain of airy gasps and moans, “so nice.”

You stiffen your tongue and push into her tiny opening as far as it can go. The butt plug had done some work to loosen her tight little hole, but it still resisted you, still required you to keep poking and pushing at her until it finally gave way.

Winter groans as the tip of your tongue enters her, and you get to work licking and kissing at her entrance, making every effort to get her ass as wet and ready as possible for you.

You give her ass the worshipping it deserves—treating it like a delicacy, enthusiastically licking between her cheeks, relishing the way her rear entrance tightens and flexes against your eager tongue.

Even after months of pleasuring Winter in all the ways you thought possible, getting to try something new is as much of a treat for you as it is for her. Discovering the fact that she liked having her ass treated like this so much was far greater a reward than any you could ever ask.

You shift to the side, fitting your hand between her legs. You reach for her pussy, running your fingers over her folds and around her glistening lips. She’s so slick and juicy, dripping with a never-ending wetness that coats your fingers, allowing to use her own nectar to lubricate your digits.

You press your finger against her folds, using her soaking wetness to your advantage, using it to slide inside her, penetrating her pussy.

Winter shudders as you push your finger inside her, and she gasps again as you angle your finger downwards and invade her pussy. For as wet as she is, she’s still so tight around you, her warm walls surrounding your finger, her muscles flexing against you.

"Oh, that’s it.”

A satisfied sigh leaves her lips as your finger finds that rough spot at the roof of her pussy, and you begin massaging her most sensitive spot in sync with your tonguing of her ass.

Adding a second finger still takes a bit of an effort, but the moan Winter lets out as you stretch her out even more makes it all worth it.

“Oh, oh, right there—keep going,” Winter sighs, unable to contain herself from the non-stop stimulation you’re making her experience—the loving, tonguing of her ass, the gentle, rhythmic penetration of your fingers. It never mattered how you pleased Winter—with your lips, your tongue, your finger, your cock—all that she ever cared about was that you were touching her.

She moans your name over and over—her her toes curl underneath her, her fingers claw at the couch cushions below, but you don’t stop your licking, don’t stop your finger-fucking. No matter how wildly she shakes or how frantically she cries out—you focus entirely on making her feel good.

From the way she moans, and the way her juices run down your fingers and spill onto her thighs, you can tell she’s getting close again. But just as you can feel her reach the crest of her second orgasm you suddenly stop, sliding your fingers out of her pussy and planting a final kiss against her ass

“No—” Winter whines as your lips leave her. She reaches behind her, stretching back and trying to pull you back into her ass.

But instead you stop her, grabbing her wrist before she can capture yours, and you ask—"I don’t suppose you brought lube?“

Winter doesn’t bother with words, she’s barely managing to breathe steadily, she just lazily gestures with her hand in the direction of her backpack.

You leave Winter to recover as you find the small tube inside, and you flip open the cap and squeeze a liberal amount of the cool gel onto your finger. You move back between her legs, squeezing an equally generous amount between her cheeks, causing her to quiver as she feels the coldness of the lube slide between her cheeks.

”Gahh!“ Winter yelps in surprise as you press on her button and start to push your finger into her asshole. You let the lube do it’s work, to help you ease your way into her ass, to slide past the strong resistance of her hole.

When you’re sure she’s adjusted to your first finger, you add your second, pushing inside her and stretching out her tight ring.

You take your time, giving her a break to prepare herself, before you slowly start pushing your fingers in and out of her ass—reaching deeper each time, gradually letting her ass adjust to the thickness of your fingers.

Winter’s a quick study—she’s testing her own ass against you soon enough, pushing back against your hand, wriggling her hips around you, experimenting with the clenching of her muscles in an attempt to loosen her hole to be able to fit more.

You exist like that for several precious minutes—Winter working her ass back and forth on your fingers, readying herself on your digits, helping prepare her ass for you.

It’s as your knuckle deep inside her ass that you hear Winter take a deep breath, and say, "I think—I think I’m ready.”

You pause, stopping your fingering of her ass, and try to speak, only to find your voice hoarse. “Are you sure?”

Winter turns herself on her side, giving her space to look over her shoulder and back at you. She reaches for your other hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Of course I am. I trust you.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you say, and you squeeze her hand back.

“Have I ever?” Winter asks, and she lets go of your hand, turning back and away from you, lying prone on the couch, eagerly pushing her ass back against your fingers.

Winter whimpers as you slide your fingers out of her well-lubricated ass, sighing at having her asshole empty once more. You take a hold of your own shaft, now returned to it’s full measure, already throbbing in your own hand, well and truly ready for Winter.

You take a long inhale as you move closer to Winter, lining yourself up with her body and pressing your cock up against her tight, waiting asshole. Slowly—achingly slow—you push your hips forward, letting her entrance give way to the thick head of your cock, until finally, you’re entering Winter’s ass for the first time.

A long, drawn-out breath is pushed out of her as she does her best to relax herself around you, trying to fit your engorged cock inside her tiny, little hole. She buries her face into the couch, fingers gripping tightly into the cushions, but you keep steady, gradually feeding your cock to her asshole inch by thick inch.

Everything about Winter is so tight, so hot, there’s no reason for her ass to be any different—only this time the intensity is turned all the way up. It’s in the way the ring of her asshole fights you, stretches around you, clenching and squeezing your entire length with such an unbearably strong grip that you’re almost afraid that you’re going to cum right then and there.

And then eventually, after an eternity of gasping, pushing, stretching—your cock is entirely inside Winter’s ass.

“Ahhh!”

“Can you keep going?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Even though you’ve only just entered her ass, you already need to take a break—the sheer sensation of her asshole around your cock has you on edge. Winter seems to agree with the sentiment, echoing your own deep breaths, panting just as hard as you are.

Your eyes drift down to her asshole—the last of her virginity—somehow impossibly stretched around your thickness. It’s an overwhelming sight—seeing your every inch buried inside what was a tiny hole before—but somehow, she’s taken it all.

“Winter!” you groan involuntarily as she shifts beneath you, her ass clenching suddenly and pulsating around you. Of all the experiments you had done before, this was by far the most intense.

“So big… so fucking big inside me…” Winter murmurs to herself, her breathing reduced to short huffs as she comes to terms with the feeling of being properly filled. “Please—give me more.”

You’re careful as you pull back out of her, letting your cock slip out half way before you push back in. You take it slow, take her ass as gently as you can, feeling the incredible tightness of her asshole clenching around every inch of you.

It’s slow, and surprisingly loving for anal sex, the way you hold her, caress her, reassure her with each stroke. It’s an impossible task to remain so patient inside her, fucking her ass with short, deliberate strokes, but you’re met with your reward when Winter herself starts pushing back onto your cock.

“Your cock feels so—so…” Winter’s muscles squeeze down around your cock again, as she groans out her next word—"unbelievable.“

A strangled grunt escapes your lips as the sensation of Winter’s perfect ass seizing your cock sends ripples through your body. You can hear the loud drumming of your heartbeat in your ear, only to be overpowered by another squeeze and push of Winter’s ass back against you.

As intense and all consuming the feeling of it was, you somehow manage to collect your senses, and soon, you start to match the urging of her ass. Your strokes get longer, your thrusts harder, intent on making her feel every inch of you inside her tight passage.

"Again,” Winter pleads, as your hips meet hers, and the clapping of your skin against skin bounces across the room.

You repeat the motion, pulling back a little further, taking a beat, and then pushing right back in—faster, harder, rougher.

“Again.”

You keep going, upping the ante each time, each thrust faster than the one before it, each one answered with a different mewl or moan from Winter. You take note of each sigh, each dirty word that slips from her lips, doing everything you can to maximise the pleasure you can make her feel.

“Again!”

You maintain your steady rhythm, only now you’re thrusting deeply each time, filling her ass with all of your cock every time you enter her, rocking her entire body as your hips meet hers, making her cheeks jiggle as you pump your length into her.

You don’t know what it is exactly, but having Winter, so prone before you, so willingly letting you use her ass, so happily begging for more, sparks something inside you. The side of you that wants to dominate, that wants to use the young idol.

“You like having my cock inside your ass?” You ask.

“Mmmmm,” Winter moans her reply, as if your words alone have an affect on her. “I love it.”

A wicked thought crosses your mind, and you continue your questioning. “This isn’t going to be the only time is it, Winter? You’re gonna let me fuck your ass again, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Winter replies, so eager, so desperate to obey. “I’ll give it to you again—I’ll give it to you wherever, whenever you want.”

“Of course you will, cause this ass—” you start, punctuating your point with a hard thrust into her, “This tight fucking ass is mine now.”

“Ohhh,” she cries as you keep giving her the cock she loves so much. “Ah yes—yes—it’s yours. Just—just promise. Promise me—”

“Promise you what?” You ask. You bend down, leaning close enough to kiss her neck, close enough to drink in the scent of her hair, the taste of her sweat, the sight of her perfect face—screwed up and clenching tight in undeniable ecstasy.

“Promise me you’ll fuck me hard… Fuck my ass as hard as you can—use me, please and—” Winter gasps as she feels your cock throb inside her. “Fill me.”

Her words inspire you, they flick that switch inside of you—any illusion of making sweet, passionate love to Winter disappears—now was the time to fuck her senseless.

Your back straightens, your grip tightens on her ass, and you pull back until you’ve almost exited her completely.

A mere second passes—that’s all you need to ready yourself. You slam your hips forward, crashing into her, planting yourself inside her, totally impaling Winter’s precious ass with your cock.

“YES!”

There’s no holding back anymore—you fuck Winter hard.

You take as much liberty with her ass as you have with her throat and her pussy, pounding it just as hard, just as fast, using it just as roughly. After all, it belonged to you.

Yet she feels far tighter than she ever could with her other holes, she even moans louder than she ever had before.

You feel it too—the unreal feeling of her asshole choking your cock, of filling her and stretching her so completely. Fucking her ass is like a drug, each time you draw out your cock every fibre of your being screams at you to dive straight back in, to return to the blissful pleasure of her asshole.

You plunge in and out of her, taking her ass at a speed that you know you can’t possibly maintain, but feels far too good to slow down.

Winter has enough awareness to slip a hand between her legs, finding her own cunt, roughly drawing small circles around her swollen clit with no apparent rhythm or speed—just doing everything she can to reach an even higher peak of euphoria.

“Oh! Yes! Fuck!” Winter’s shouting now, each thrust fucking out of her a new declaration of joy, a new stream of filth from her mouth. “Fuck me—fuck my ass—just—like—that—please!”

Seeing Winter like this—someone so beautiful, so pure—reduced to such a shameless mess as she’s so relentlessly fucked in the ass—it’s simply the nastiest, hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

You keep going, keep fucking, each time pulling back until only your head was trapped by her hot, tight ring, before thrusting all the way back into her until your balls are slapping against her dripping folds.

She arches her back, raising her head to cry out, to scream your name, to scream for—"more!“

With her back arched towards you, you reach out and grab her by her hair, now loosened from their ties and left a long, silky mess of blonde draped down her back.

"Ahhh—fuck. Just like that. Pull my hair, use it to fuck my ass.” Winter grits her teeth, using her words to drive you to fuck her even harder and faster than you already were. “Harder—please oppa! I’m almost there—I’m so fucking close!”

You give her everything—you fuck her with hard, rough thrusts, filling her like your life depended on it, giving it to her as fast and deep as she demanded of you. Her fingers endlessly work on her clit, the sounds of her sloshing mixing in with the wetness of your fucking, the slapping of skin against skin, and the echoing of your blended moans around the room.

“Fuck—yes—baby—honey—oppa—PLEASE!”

You can feel it—can feel your own orgasm hurtling closer and closer—and in a strange moment of clarity you realise it’s going to be like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Winter seems to realise the same, bucking her hips back against you harder, playing with her clit faster, doing everything she can to bring you closer and closer to completely undoing her.

“Oh fuck!” Winter hisses, letting herself go, savouring the last few moments of your fucking, now wanting—needing—only one thing. “Oppa—please—GOD you’re making me—”

You fall together—not you holding back so she can come first, not her demanding you fill her ass now—it’s together, with your hands pulling at her hair and her lips screaming out your name, declaring her body—her ass— as yours.

Her hips kiss yours, burying your cock entirely inside her ass, and you hear her cry out as your bodies crash together one final time.

It hits you in waves as you burst inside of her unbearably tight ass—shot after shot after shot of thick, heavy white cum spills out of your cock and floods into Winter. Seconds stretch out into eternities spent inside Winter’s tight, shaking body, pushing back against you in the throes of her own orgasm.

“So fucking good—so—so—so—FUH—”

Winter moans and writhes and cums beneath you, endlessly trembling and twitching all the while her hot, clenching ass squeezes and pulses and milks every last drop of semen you have left. Your vision blurs and your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you barely have enough awareness to register that you’re cumming far more, far harder, far longer than you’ve ever had before.

Your bodies dissolve into messy puddles of bliss, quivering as you come down from the high of being lost in each other—of being lost together.

Some instinct—or habit that’s formed over the past few months—takes over, and you both move in sync as your senses return. You roll to the side and off Winter’s body, your cock audibly popping out of her grasping asshole, accompanied by a pleading whimper from her lips as you finally exit her. You can feel the rush of hot, creamy cum that follows—running out of her hole and down her ass cheek, flowing down her leg and onto the couch cushions beneath the two of you.

When the light-headedness fades and your mind regains it’s ability to comprehend the world outside of Winter’s ass, you come to find Winter has turned into your arms, nestled in your embrace and hugging tightly to you, kissing into your chest.

It’s a pure, beautiful moment, somehow feeling so right despite all the passionate, filthy things that you had just done to her—to each other.

You look down to check on her, but find yourself unable to see much past the mess of blonde hair, save for a smile on her lips as she rests her head against you.

“Winter?” You whisper.

“Give me a minute,” she hums into your chest, so comfortably cuddled against you. “This was just so—fuck. So fucking good.”

It’s not only her that can’t find the right words to say—to aptly describe the high of feeling her lips against your skin, of feeling Winter wrapped up in your embrace. “Yeah, I know.”

She squirms uncomfortably as she stretches out her once tense muscles, and mumbles, “maybe this was a bad idea…”

You nearly leap off the couch, “what do you—”

Winter laughs, a pretty sound that instantly puts your mind at ease. She tilts her head up to finally meet your gaze, her eyes glimmering with delight—so, so satisfied. “No, not like that. I have to perform tomorrow. I think dancing might be out of the question. Actually, I think walking might be too.”

You don’t bother hiding the grin from your face, and you hear a familiar set of trumpets triumphantly sounding off in the distance.

Winter lifts her hand, cupping your face, tracing your cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. The smile slips off her face, but her eyes still remain alight—so tender in her gaze, so reaffirming of all the reasons you’ve fallen for her so hard. “I’m sorry.”

You lean into her hand, asking back, “for what?”

“I know—I understand how you feel. This is all just so… new to me.” There’s vulnerability in the way she looks at you, in her voice, like she’s saying things she’s never said before—never imagined saying. “I’m afraid.”

It’s a reflex to tighten your hold around her, to draw her deeper into your hug to make her feel okay.

“What happens when our experiments are over? Our relationship was based on sex. What if that’s all there is to us?” She asks, each word taking slightly more effort for her to say than the one before.

“Winter,” you say, so naturally filling her name with such affection, as if there was no other way you could speak it. “I’m in this for you. Not just the sex. ”

You can see it in the way her cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red, in how her eyes sparkle just that little bit shinier, and her smile returns and she kisses you, sighing your own name onto your lips. Yet, she still needs to correct you—"I think you mean the mind-blowingly good sex.“

You mirror her, matching her grin for grin. "Yes, I’m not in this for just the mind-blowingly good sex. It’s always been you. And if you’re not comfortable putting a label on it—that’s okay. I need you to know that for me it’s only you.”

She’s blushing harder, hard enough to make the last of her walls melt down, and she’s kissing you again, peppering your cheeks, your jaw. “We… we can put a label on it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Winter says, resolutely deciding for the both of you. “You’re my… fellow scientist.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, amused by her choice of words. “Scientist? Is that all?”

“And… my teacher. And student…” Winter scrunches up her face, as the words come to her bit by bit—the things that are impossible to sum up with just language alone, but she still tries. “And… the person I get to hug and hold and have mind-blowingly good sex with.”

“Winter—”

Winter stops you before you can interrupt—as the apple falls from the tree and she has her moment of eureka. She’s smiling and laughing and she’s finally found the conclusion at the end of all your experiments. “You’re mine.”

And you repeat it back to her—because it’s true, and because she’s perfect. “And you’re mine too, Winter.”

HOMECOMING (ft. Karina & Taeyeon)

karina x taeyeon x male reader smut

12k words

Kim Taeyeon has sent you a photo.

Your heartrate rises the instant the notification flashes across the screen, informing you that your girlfriend has sent through yet another meticulously crafted object of torture.

Two whole months have passed without seeing her, and with that means it has been two whole months of photos—each carefully designed to tempt, torment, and make you regret even thinking of spending another day apart from her.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath, and swipe open your phone.

On most occasions, the photos she sends are simply suggestive—a shot of exposed, long legs, or a self-portrait showing just a hint of cleavage at the bottom of the frame. Other times, when you know she is feeling especially cruel, the content is far more explicit—spread thighs stained with her own juices, sparkling under the camera flash, or a mirrored shot of her body bent over, presenting her fit, firm ass while she waits backstage at some music show.

Today’s photo however is none of these things—it doesn’t even have Taeyeon in it.

Instead, it’s a photo of your large, plush bed, recognisable by the excessive mountains of pillows and cushions that Taeyeon had insisted on bringing with her when she moved in. The focus of the photo however is on the neatly arranged items atop the fitted silk sheets—a single pair of handcuffs, a satin blindfold, a leather collar, and a long leash.

Kim Taeyeon has sent you a message.

In some twisted Pavlovian response, your pants suddenly get tighter.

See you tonight, darling.

-

Despite the late-night flight, the lack of sleep and the jet-lag, you arrive at your shared apartment wide awake, your mind still buzzing in anticipation at whatever the night, or more importantly Taeyeon, has in store.

You take a beat to adjust your tie and run a hand through your hair, bracing yourself for whatever is behind the door. Only upon opening the door you find you’re not greeted by your girlfriend, instead you’re met with a dimly-lit apartment and the soothing scents of cinnamon and vanilla.

In front of you, two neatly arranged rows of candles form a makeshift pathway from the entrance of your apartment and around a corner to presumably your bedroom.

You leave your luggage by the door and hang your coat on its designated hook, and just when you’re about to begin following the trail that’s been lit for you, she appears.

Taeyeon steps out of the darkness, like some ethereal apparition, and into the warm glow of candlelight. You can barely see her at first, but as she approaches the flickering flames illuminate her, revealing more and more of her with each step. Fire dances around her body, flashing glimpses of bare, flawless feet, of porcelain-white thighs poking out of midnight black silk, and of dark, magnetic eyes.

She’s the exact picture of elegance and beauty that you remember—from the shimmering waves of dark hair that spills onto her shoulders, all the way down to her toned legs and pitch-black painted toes—her grace in it’s entirety taking your breath away.

Even with her in front of you it’s hard to believe she’s there—you can’t even hear her footsteps over the sound of your own fiercely beating heart.

The closer she gets, the more you can make out the fine details of her dark negligee, able to see how the loose silk turns translucent every time the flames of the candles flicker just right. You follow the neckline of the short, black dress, wandering down over the small swell of her breasts, teased by the outline of the tiny bumps of pert nipples poking underneath.

You can’t pretend that you’re not disappointed that she’s still clothed, but getting to witness the show of Taeyeon undressing, the reveal of her svelte, petite body was a win in and of itself.

She’s short, significantly shorter than you, yet in just her gaze she holds a power over you that you can’t put into words. It only takes a few steps until you’re finally close enough to see her blood-red lips—a bright, vibrant shade, the sole splash of colour against the blacks of her nails, her hair, her eyes, and her unblemished white skin.

You’ve missed this, missed her, not just seeing her but the way she can make you feel by being around her—the way she needs only her eyes to steal your heart.

“Taeyeon.”

“Darling.”

Her hand reaches out for you, delicate fingers wrapping themselves around your necktie, taking a firm grip and bringing you down to her level.

“Kiss me.”

She pulls you down to her with a surprising show of strength, but still needs to stand on her toes to capture your lips with her own. She breathes you in, parting your lips and sliding her tongue into your mouth, challenging you into a duel of increasingly intensifying exchanges, letting you freely sample the sweetness of her lips.

Her hands leave your tie and grasp your shirt, grabbing two fistfuls and pulling you closer into her, buttons ripping and falling somewhere into the darkness. You wrap your arms around the small of her back, matching her eagerness, her aggressiveness, desperate to communicate everything that had gone unsaid over the past two months.

She moans into your mouth—I needed this—her hand reaches into your shirt and rests on your heart—I missed you—your mouth slips away only for her to reclaim your bottom lip between her teeth—let me show you how much.

She reacquaints herself with your body, soft hands roaming your chest, exploring you in the same way that she had done a million times before, using her fingers to read the bumps and lines of your muscles like they were written in a form of braille only she understands.

Despite how weak you are to her touch, you manage to get the sense to launch a counterattack of your own, feeling the fabric of her dress underneath your fingers, running your hands up her sides, her slim waist even smaller in the palms of your hand.

She gasps as your fingertips meet bare skin, touring up her back to find the loose straps over her shoulders, idly playing with the straps of her dress between your thumb and forefinger. Taeyeon’s far too preoccupied with her tongue in your mouth and her hands at your chest to mind, shrugging her shoulders up and allowing you to easily slide the straps off her shoulders.

You choose this moment to break the kiss, reluctantly drawing back, facing some difficulty loosening your own lips from hers. As much as the pout on her face almost makes you regret doing so, you need to see this—you need to see the breasts that had tortured you through pictures over the past two months with your own eyes.

Taeyeon tracks your gaze to her chest, knowing your intention, knowing how much you loved her breasts, and waits patiently for you. She bites her lip, holding herself still as you peel the fabric off her chest, your hands trembling in excitement as you reveal the firm forms of her tiny, pale tits.

“I missed you,” you breathe.

“Show me,” she replies.

Taeyeon moans, goose bumps prickling atop her skin as you run your fingers down from her cheek, past the lovely curve of her neck, down the middle of her chest, and finding your target on her right breast. She lets out a sharp gasp as your palm presses down on her stiffening, caramel-coloured nipple and your fingers squeeze into the supple flesh of her breast.

You duck into her neck, a favourite of yours to kiss, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her skin, losing yourself in a haze of her rose-scented perfume. You reach for her thigh with your free hand, pawing for the hem of her dress, searching for the warmth in between her legs.

You want to press your advantage, but as you start to slide your hand up her thigh and under her dress, a groan is stolen from your throat as your pants are unbuttoned, your briefs are drawn down, and Taeyeon’s hand is now gripped tightly around your swelling cock.

“Tae -” you try to say but can only grunt at the first touch of another’s hand around you, bringing you to your full hardness with the long, corkscrew motions of her wrist. Taeyeon peaks your arousal with only her fingers, bringing everything that had built up inside of you, everything that had been teased over two months of filthy messages and suggestive photos, bubbling straight to the surface and breaking through your quickly crumbling resolve.

You rest your head on her neck, your hands no longer groping, only holding on tightly to her thigh and her tit, squeezing into her as she strokes your entire length from hilt to head.

“Look how hard you are for me, darling,” Taeyeon whispers into your ear, her voice like honey, a low, husky whisper dripping with lust. “You’ve been waiting for so long, haven’t you?”

You can only manage a nod, not that it matters, only able to sink into the feeling of her hand wrapped around your cock, jerking you in long, smooth motions.

“It must have been so difficult, having to endure being without me—without my hands, my tits, my cunt, for so long.” Taeyeon teases you, before giving your ear a playful bite, ensuring she has your full, undivided attention. “Lucky for you I’ve prepared something special.”

You lift your head from her neck, looking upwards to meet Taeyeon’s eyes.

“You didn’t forget about the photo—did you?” She asks, and your cock involuntarily flexes in her hand as you recall the last photo you received—the handcuffs, the blindfold, the collar, the leash. “Good, it looks like you’re ready for the main event.”

Whatever Taeyeon has planned, it’s hard to believe that the main event isn’t what’s already standing in front of you and stroking you to an engorged erection.

Taeyeon places a hand against your chest, gently pushing you off her, much to your chagrin. She smirks at your hesitancy to let go of her breast and her thigh, but you eventually do, motivated by a few encouraging squeezes of your cock.

She turns away from you, allowing you to see the state you left her dress in—her straps now off her shoulders and showing the flat of her upper back, and her negligee now riding up her cheeks, exposing the ripe handfuls that is Taeyeon’s ass. She leads you, cock-first, stroking you as you follow her through your apartment, along the guiding candles down the entrance hall, past the kitchen, through the living room, and arriving at the closed door of your bedroom.

Taeyeon stops you at the door, squeezing your shaft hard enough to snap you out of the hypnotising allure of her tight ass and the slow stroking of her hand up and down your cock. She makes no effort to hide the wide grin on her face when she turns back to you, all too pleased with whatever surprise she has waiting behind the door.

“Ready?”

You nod.

Taeyeon opens the door and steps to the side, and removing her hand from your cock, gestures for you to enter your bedroom. “Welcome home, darling.”

With bated breath, you calm yourself, and step forward into your bedroom to find your gift.

To find her.

Karina Yoo, kneeling on your bed.

“Is that—?” You start to ask, the sight too unreal to even complete the question.

You know her, have heard about her from Taeyeon’s stories about work—and had, maybe on more than one occasion, used a fancam or a photo as a companion on a late night, but to have her here—suffice to say, Taeyeon had outdone herself.

You take her in—take in Karina, in all her young, nubile perfection. Like the rest of your home, candles provide the only light, but it’s more than enough to make out that Karina is blindfolded, naked and on display—like some master-sculptors work of art, waiting and presented just for you.

She’s posed purposefully and in such a way to accentuate her finest features—even the way she kneels flexes the juiciness of her thighs and presses down her ass—so plump and full, cheeks squished together and spilling over the heels of her pristine feet.

“What do you think?” Taeyeon joins you at your side, one hand rubbing circles on your lower back, the only thing keeping you grounded in your new reality, and the other finding its way back to your lower hardness. “Doesn’t she look so appetising?”

You can’t find a better word to describe her, even more fitting when your own mouth is already salivating at the sight of her. The fact that you’re gawking at her isn’t the problem, it’s knowing where to stare.

Do you rest your eyes on her thick, creamy-white thighs, muscled from years of dancing, of performing, of being on display? Do you look at her abs, well-toned and tense with anticipation—a stomach that you feel a sudden desire to lay your lips on and run your tongue over? Or do you take in her face, even with her eyes covered and hidden from you, still so utterly captivating, from the height of her cheekbones to the slope of her jaw, and to her lips so full and plump and pink.

But ultimately there’s only one destination for your eyes—her gorgeous, plentiful tits. You would be hard-pressed to imagine a more ideal pair of breasts—two full, round, vanilla-white teardrops, perky despite their size, not yet succumbed to the gravity of age—perfectly designed to be groped, to be squeezed, to be feasted on. Karina’s arms are behind her back, forcing her to push her chest out, making her breasts seem ridiculously proportioned to the rest of her body—even more so in contrast with her impossibly skinny midriff, and wide, full hips.

Hanging between her two breasts is a long leather leash, fastened to a matching black collar wrapped around her slender neck. You recognise the items, and judging by her pose, you know that if you were to look behind her, you would see a pair of handcuffs keeping her arms behind her back.

“Darling, this is Karina,” Taeyeon says. She steps past you and towards your new guest, and takes her place on the bed, sitting next to the younger girl. “Karina, introduce yourself to your new daddy.”

Even though she’s blindfolded, Karina still turns towards you, taking a guess at where you’re standing. She calls out to you in a nervous voice—“hi, daddy.”

The way her voice shakes when she says that nickname alone is enough to send shivers running up and down your spine. However, it also does make you hesitate—you knew how persuasive your girlfriend could be, especially when it came to carnal activities. “Tae—are you sure she’s okay with this?”

Taeyeon laughs at your question, as if it’s a ridiculous thing to ask, and lovingly strokes Karina’s cheek. “Are you kidding? She begged me for this.”

“Begged?”

“Karina,” Taeyeon whispers into the girl’s ear, “tell me—how long have you wanted to fuck my boyfriend?”

Karina’s voice comes out stronger this time, yet still a whisper. “Since the first time I caught—since I saw you two in a practice room together.”

Your mind tries to think of the few times you’d visited the SM headquarters, and the even fewer instances when you actually were in one of their practice rooms—before it dawns on you.

“Since you spied on us.” Taeyeon corrects her, interrogating Karina, toying with the girl like she was just another delicious treat caught in her web.

“Yes,” Karina nods.

“Spied on us fucking,” Taeyeon continues her line of questioning. “But spying wasn’t all you were doing. Why don’t you tell your daddy what you were doing while you were watching us fucking?”

“I was—I was,” Karina stutters. She clears her throat, and says, “I was touching myself.”

Taeyeon clicks her tongue, theatrically shaking her head at Karina’s confession. “My, my, my—what would the company think if they knew the crown jewel of their newest group made herself cum while she watched her new daddy fuck my brains out?”

Taeyeon leans into her, slowing dragging her hand down Karina’s cheek and over her shoulder, running her hands over Karina’s body, tracing the outline of her hourglass curves. You can see Karina’s lip start to quiver the lower Taeyeon’s hand gets, finding the groove of Karina’s lower back, and finally trying, and failing, to fit the right cheek of the younger girl’s ass into her palm.

You’re transfixed the entire time, watching as Taeyeon draws from Karina’s young body as many oohs and aahs as she can using only her touch. Taeyeon catches you staring, locking eyes with you from behind Karina’s shoulder, making you watch as she teasingly gropes Karina’s left breast.

“Do you remember the first time we played with Irene, darling?” Taeyeon asks, and you slowly nod, a flood of fond memories surfacing in your mind. “I think it’s time Karina gets her turn, don’t you agree?”

Your only response is to begin stroking yourself, pumping your own shaft at the lewd sight before you.

“Good.” Taeyeon says, planting a kiss on Karina’s cheek. “Come here and unwrap your present. Your gift. Your pet. Yours to do whatever you want, wherever you want.”

You can’t divest yourself of your clothes any faster, striding over to the bed and standing over the two women. You can feel Taeyeon’s eyes on you as you take in Karina, reaching out to touch her, gently brushing your fingers along her chin, as if you were confirming that the girl kneeling in front of you was in fact real.

Her mouth opens in a soundless moan as you reach lower, and unable to help yourself any longer you seize her left breast, the one that Taeyeon had tempted you with, into the palm of your hand. You greedily dig your fingers into her flesh, testing their weight in your palm, pinching her nipple, watching her glossy, pink lips open into a round ‘o’ as she exhales an airy moan.

It’s hard not to compare her to every other pair of tits that had presented themselves to you in this same bedroom—Seulgi’s firm breasts, Yeri’s generous handfuls, even Taeyeon’s bite-size buds. You loved your girlfriend’s small breasts, had feasted and defiled them in more ways than one, but having the complete opposite in front of you—Karina’s magnificent pair, nipples stiff and swollen, inviting your mouth and your tongue—was irresistible.

Touching them is not enough, you need to taste them, to take them for your own, and so you lean forward and dip down to take one stiff, dark-pink nipple into your lips. You hold for a second, feeling the texture of her nipple between your lips, before giving the taut flesh a quick swipe with your tongue.

Karina gasps under your tongue, pushing out her chest and further into your mouth, urging more of herself into you. You smile around her breast as she begins to react more vocally, soft sighs and breathless moans as your tongue flicks over and over, swirling around her areola. You hold onto either side of her waist, quelling her shivers as you switch to her other breast, making sure to give it an equal amount of attention, coating it in your saliva, tenderly nipping at her sensitive skin, marking her stimulated flesh as yours.

You explore her body with your right hand, running over the ridgelines of her toned abs, tracing each bump with your thumb. You move to her centre, and with your eyes closed and mouth still focused on suckling and nibbling away at her tits, you find the slickness hidden between her thighs.

“Daddy,” Karina whispers as you feel her heat against your fingers, and you slowly draw a small circle around the peak of her mound. She’s already wet, her clit stiff under your touch, no doubt a result of Taeyeon’s prior work. “Just like that, daddy.”

Karina spreads her thighs apart for you, allowing you to move your hand further down, over the slickness of her lips, pressing your palm flat against her folds, giving you access to carefully push your finger down and into her wetness.

“Mmmmfff…” Karina grits her teeth, moaning in your ear as she adjusts herself to your finger pushing its way past the tightness of her entrance. She’s so tight around you, so tight that you begin to wonder if she’ll even be able to take your cock, but your worries are availed by the moisture that coats your finger.

You press your finger up, curling it towards your palm, and finding the exact point at the ceiling of her walls to make her say -

“Oh fuck!”

You indulge yourself in Karina’s body, lavishly licking her tits, matching the timing of your finger against her g-spot, maximising the waves of pleasure you bestow on the girl.

“I knew you’d like her big fucking tits.” You’re so consumed in Karina’s tits that you’ve completely forgotten that Taeyeon is even in the room with the two of you—her voice breaking you out of your enjoyment. Karina’s nipple nearly falls out of your mouth, but you manage to keep it between your teeth. You open your eyes to see Taeyeon, still to the side of Karina, the hem of her negligee bunched up around her waist, her fingers diving in and out of her own pussy.

She regards you with a searing heat of lust in her gaze, watching you hungrily devour Karina’s breasts and violate her pussy, fulfilling her request to make the most of your new pet.

You match her lust, her heat, engaging her in an intensely erotic staring contest, performing for your girlfriend as you redouble your efforts on your new pet.

Karina’s moans get louder as you pull your fingers towards you like a trigger, stimulating her pussy more and more, pooling her juices into the palm of your hand. She’s so sensitive, so easy to please, like she was built for this—built to be used.

“Does it feel good?” Taeyeon leans closer to Karina, the devil on her shoulder, whispering sinful thoughts into the idol’s ear. “Does it feel good to be touched by your new daddy?”

“Mmmmm… Yes…” Karina whimpers in response as she rolls her hips into your hand. “It feels sooo good.”

“I bet it does… You know you’re not the first, right?” Taeyeon says, “not the first perfect little rookie that daddy here has defiled. Not the first precious idol that daddy has taught how to be a good, fucking whore.”

It’s electric, hearing Taeyeon’s words, seeing the desire ablaze as you finger-fuck Karina. You know full well that it’s as much for her as it is for you or Karina—she loved watching you fuck all of her juniors, could spend hours watching without even needing to be penetrated herself.

“Daddy!” Karina arches her back as she cries out, pushing out her glorious tits higher and towards the ceiling. Her nipple slips from your mouth and she starts to fall backwards, but you reach out for her, taking her lower back into your arms and holding her steady against you.

You fall into her, kneeling on the bed before her and levelling your eyes with her lips.

Without second thought you take her mouth with your own, needing to feel the softness of her lips. She’s hesitant at first, caught by surprise by the kiss, but she receptively opens her mouth and welcomes you in with her own tongue.

You’re not quite able to coordinate both hands and your tongue at the same time—but she’s far too lost in the pleasure you’re making her feel to care. You settle for sloppily entangling your tongues together, unwilling to give up on groping her large tits and fingering her soaking-wet pussy.

You can feel Karina get closer on your fingers, moaning desperately into your mouth. Her grinds become faster, hastened, rocking back on the palm of your hand, rising her hips as you quicken your trigger finger inside her. Her walls tighten around your finger, drawing you in further, pushing you deeper into her pussy, and you can feel her body start to shake, edging towards the inevitable, when -

“Stop.”

Karina’s mouth is pulled from away from you, and as you look up to in confusion, Taeyeon seizes you by the wrist. You turn to your girlfriend, your wrist in her right hand, Karina’s leash in her left.

“Stop,” she repeats, pulling back on your wrist and sliding your finger out of Karina’s pussy, ignoring her pleading whimpers as you do so. “This is about your pleasure, not hers. She’ll get to cum when I say so.”

Taeyeon pulls your hand up to her face and looks upon the glistening juices that Karina has left staining your fingers. She seals her lips around your finger, taking the entire digit into her mouth and sucking her way to the tip, letting your finger leave her mouth with a ’pop’.

She takes her time, licking her lips, savouring the taste of Karina’s pussy from your finger. She knows she’s in full control of the situation, has both you and Karina figuratively and literally in the palm of her hands—the two of you far too gone into the realm of horniness to do anything but obey. Every bit of blood in your body seems to have already flooded down to your cock, your lust only matched by Karina, chest heaving, mouth wide open and panting, struggling with having her orgasm denied.

“She has such a pretty mouth, doesn’t she, darling?” Taeyeon asks. “Why don’t you fill it?”

Taeyeon moves from her position and stands up from the bed, allowing her to harshly yank Karina’s leash forward and pull her onto the floor.

You instinctively reach out, catching Karina into your arms and shooting your girlfriend a reproachful glare.

Taeyeon rolls her eyes, pulling forcefully on the leash again, and before you can admonish her, Karina moves along with Taeyeon’s demands. She lands on her knees and at your feet, her back pressed up against the foot of your bed, an apparently all-too-natural position for her.

“Trust me, she’s suffered much worse punishment,” Taeyeon says. “How about you show your daddy what you practiced?”

Taeyeon guides you to stand in front of Karina, coaxing you so your cock, now at its fullest, stands tall and perpendicular with Karina’s lips.

“Although, all the dildos in the world can’t prepare you for this.” Taeyeon takes your cock in her hand, wielding it as if it was just another toy for her to use, and strikes Karina’s cheek.

Karina’s tongue darts out, chasing after your cock, but Taeyeon wants her fun, and plays keep-away from Karina with your cock. She spends a little too much time with her game, relishing in slapping your thick meat across Karina’s face, letting her get a taste on her lips for a split-second, before snatching your cock out of reach once more.

“Tae,” you groan, needing to remind Taeyeon that as much as she wants to play with her new pet, it was as torturous for you as it was for Karina to have your cock be toyed around like that, so close to Karina’s hot breath and waiting lips.

“Fine then,” Taeyeon sighs, “ruin my fun.”

You scoff at that, as if seeing you facefuck her junior wasn’t Taeyeon’s dream scenario.

“You heard him.” Taeyeon directs your cock, leaving the tip hair’s breadth away from Karina’s lips. “Suck.”

You inhale sharply as Karina’s tongue extends, finding the underside of your cock, pressing upwards in the groove underneath the head. Your hips move forward on their own, her hot breath not enough—you need to be inside her mouth.

You can tell it’s hard for her to adjust her angle with the blindfold, hard to get the full measure of your length and your girth, but she takes it slow, taking you into her warm and wet mouth inch by inch. She’s more than welcoming, far more than willing, her lips so soft around your shaft, holding your cock in her mouth with just the right amount of grip.

Your cock is halfway past her lips when you feel some resistance, her head backing up as you try to feed more of yourself to her, struggling to push your full length past her gag reflex.

You’d like nothing more than to force her, to plunge your cock down the depths of her throat, but for now you decide to exercise some patience. It’s more than enough to see her on her knees before you, feel her lips wrapped around your cock as she starts to test herself against your length, slowly, sensually taking you into her mouth with deeper and deeper bobs of her head, rewarding you with the pleasant sights of her bulging cheeks.

“You’re being too nice to her.” Taeyeon, annoyed with your passiveness, takes the back of Karina’s head in her hands. “Don’t be afraid—let him fuck your face.”

It’s too much, too soon, as Taeyeon forces Karina’s face against you, pushing her mouth forward onto your cock and fighting against her efforts to resist. You want to stop Taeyeon, can see Karina start to struggle and writhe as she chokes on your length, tears seeping from the bottom of the blindfold and down her cheeks.

But it feels too good.

“Good pet.” Taeyeon urges Karina forward, filling the idol’s small mouth with your throbbing cock, gagging her on your shaft and pushing her into taking you in so deep that her nose is close enough to press up against your stomach.

Karina’s throat feels divine around you, slobbering on your length, drool sipping out of her mouth. Each gag as she chokes on you is a wonderful flex around your cock, coughing up spit and lubricating your shaft, tightening and clenching on your length as she does her best to swallow you whole.

Deciding she’s had enough, Taeyeon pulls back on Karina’s hair, releasing your cock from her throat and leaving the girl struggling for air.

Karina tries to collect herself, but with her hands cuffed behind her there’s little she can do to restore herself to her previous decorum, having to deal with her drool sliding down her chin and teary make-up running down her cheeks.

Yet, after many gasping breaths, Karina persists, calling for “more.”

“See, darling,” Taeyeon says, wearing a proud grin for her newest protégé. “It only takes a little nudge, and all these girls quickly find their inner whore.”

Taeyeon let’s go of Karina’s hair, and Karina dives back forward, hungry lips latching onto your cock and eagerly returning to bob her head back and forth. While she still can’t take all of your cock on her own, she continues to suck and suck and suck, taking you deeper each time, picking up speed and proving herself as a cock-sucking savant.

“Of course, occasionally they need someone like me to show them how it’s done.”

Taeyeon, satisfied with Karina’s rhythm, adds her own skills to the fray, kneeling next to Karina and targeting all the places she couldn’t reach—kissing into your thighs, licking up at your balls, swirling her tongue around your hilt.

As skilful as Taeyeon can be with her mouth when pleasuring you on her own, she chooses to be sloppy, generously lathering your balls and your shaft with her saliva, enthusiastically slurping away at her favourite meal.

You thread your hands through the backs of the their heads, partly to help them work on your cock, partly to hold on as you teeter on the edge, unable to turn your eyes away from the sight of the two filthy mouths working away at your cock.

Karina’s tongue, lips, and throat all feel so invitingly warm, so wet around your length, and you move your hips along with her bobs, matching thrusts to pump more of yourself into her.

Taeyeon reads your intentions, knows your close, and takes a step back from the action. She holds Karina’s face for you while you take over with your own thrusts, now taking on Taeyeon’s earlier suggestions and using Karina—using her hot, wet mouth—like the pet she is for your own pleasure.

You grip both hands on the back of Karina’s head, holding her still as you gag her with your length, feeding her with forceful thrusts into her face. She does her best to relax her throat around you, tears welling back up as you truly fuck her face—but at this point you’re well past caring, giving over to your base desires and pursuing release.

You pick up your pace, fucking her face harder, deeper, using your hips to slam your cock forward and deep into Karina’s tight throat. You’re so used to Taeyeon’s rapid-paced deep-throating of your cock, able to fuck her mouth like you would her pussy, so willing and eager to swallow your cock whole. Karina’s throat on the other hand fights back, resisting each of your strokes, choking around you each time you hit the back of her throat, challenging your attempts to dominate her, but only serving to make her sucking feel that much better.

“Tell me how good this pet’s mouth feels,” Taeyeon says, hungry eyes glued to your cock thrusting in and out of Karina’s mouth.

“Amazing,” is all you can muster at first, “it feels so fucking amazing.”

“I bet it does, I bet you’re close aren’t you, darling?” She asks, taunting you, her words egging on your hard pumps into Karina’s face. “I bet you’d like nothing more than to cum on her pretty face, wouldn’t you?”

“Y- yes,” you gasp.

“Good, because I know that’s all she wants too.”

Karina moans around your cock in agreement, her lips vibrating around you as she does her best to last through your ravaging of her throat.

“Tae—I’m going to—” You don’t get to finish your sentence, too far gone and bursting at the seams. But right as you’re ready to cum, Taeyeon pulls Karina’s mouth off your cock, tightly seizing your cock into her hands.

Taeyeon rips the blindfold from Karina’s face, forcing you into an intense gaze with Karina’s wide, dusk-coloured irises, and with a simple command says, “do it.”

Time slows in that single moment of pleasure, as months of pent-up sexual frustration rushes through your body and out of your cock, a mixture of adrenaline, relief and sheer bliss coursing through your veins. You watch the rapid series of emotions cross Karina’s face—surprise at finally being able to see, shock to be immediately met with your cock in her face, and raw lust, pleading for your cum as she witnesses the first spurts of semen fire out and start to paint her angelic face.

The first strand of your load streaks across her cheek, but Taeyeon corrects your aim, pointing your cock directly at Karina’s mouth. Karina adapts and opens her mouth wider, sticking out her tongue and providing a landing strip for your cum.

“That’s it—let it all out,” Taeyeon encourages you as she roughly jerks your cock, squeezing out spurt after spurt, spraying across Karina’s nose, her chin, her lips, making sure that every bit of cum you can muster finds its home on Karina’s face.

You feel your knees shake and weaken, such visceral pleasure nearly causing you to collapse, but you somehow manage to survive Taeyeon’s relentless stroking of your cock towards Karina’s face.

Karina remains still the whole time, her face reduced to nothing more than a canvas for your cum, with Taeyeon wielding your cock as her paintbrush. It’s only once your cock starts to wilt in her hand that Taeyeon decides you’ve been properly emptied and let’s your flaccid member slide out of her moist fingers.

She turns back to Karina, admiring her work on the idol’s face, smiling to herself as the younger girl struggles to open her eyes through the cum that now cakes her features. You feel like apologising to her, but the look on Taeyeon’s face seems mystifying to you—like she’s proud.

“Good girl, 'Rina,” Taeyeon whispers, placing her fingertips under Karina’s chin, tilting her face upwards for a closer inspection. “Don’t you dare waste a drop of your daddy’s cum.”

Without warning, Taeyeon attacks Karina’s face with her tongue—licking her chin, her cheeks, doing her best to gather all the cum that had missed Karina’s mouth onto the tip of her tongue. Taeyeon works fast and efficiently, methodically scooping up every last drop of your thick, white semen that you’ve left on Karina’s face.

She holds the globs of cum on her tongue, straightening up so she’s looking down on the kneeling Karina. Karina seems to exist on the same horny wavelength as Taeyeon, and once again resumes her role as the receptacle of your ejaculate, opening her mouth wide and extending her tongue out.

Taeyeon steadies herself over her, keeping her hold on Karina’s chin, and slowly rolls out her own tongue, letting all the cum she had gathered slide downwards and into Karina’s waiting mouth.

You stand there in disbelief, stuck frozen watching the incredibly erotic sight of your girlfriend feed your cum into the mouth of the top visual of the new generation, in awe that Taeyeon has somehow done the impossible and once again found yet another idol as thirsty for your cum as she was.

Taeyeon waits patiently until all the semen she has gathered falls into Karina’s mouth, and follows up by coming down on Karina’s lips, bringing her into a full, open-mouth kiss, snatching Karina’s tongue into an aggressive tangle.

You forget you’re even a participant, feeling more like a spectator with the best seats in the house, watching the two girls duel over what remains of your heavy, thick load between their lips.

You take a step back, as Taeyeon throws her legs over Karina’s knees, mounting her, giving her better position to take the younger idol’s head into her hands and breathe her lust into her mouth.

Taeyeon’s hips move on Karina’s lap, grinding helplessly against Karina’s waist, pressing her own body against Karina’s well-endowed chest, seeking the same pleasure you had just released all over her.

They moan into each other’s mouths, while Karina’s hands remain cuffed behind her back, Taeyeon’s free to resume the work you had left off, wandering Karina’s body, groping and pinching at her breasts and nipples, seeing what kinds of yelps of pleasure she could elicit from her.

It’s after one particularly harsh pinch, where Taeyeon, hands embedded in the juicy flesh of Karina’s breasts, tongue halfway down her throat, decides she’s had her fill of assaulting Karina’s body, and demands more.

Taeyeon turns her head away from Karina, looking over her shoulder at you, her face bright red and flush with sweat and arousal. She breathes heavily, and you can see behind her Karina doing the same, her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, recovering from the successive assaults of your cock and Taeyeon’s tongue.

Taeyeon smiles at you, one hand on Karina’s tit, her other having found the end of her leash. “How’d your pet do?”

You don’t have the words, let alone the air in your lungs to respond, letting the laboured breathes that leave your mouth give your answer for you.

“Of course, you are not exactly an unbiased judge,” Taeyeon says, turning back to Karina, “he’ll cum for any pretty face with a pair of big tits.”

“Oh!” Karina exclaims, as Taeyeon digs her fingers into one of Karina’s breasts.

“You’ll have to do better to impress me.”

Taeyeon lifts herself up and off Karina’s lap and moves back on top of the bed. She crawls up to the head of the bed, making herself comfortable over the vast collection of pillows, laying back and spreading her thighs far apart, giving you a full-frontal view of her bare, pink pussy.

She tugs back on the leash wrapped around her hand, calling her pet to her. It’s awkward for Karina with her hands behind her back, having to shuffle up the bed after Taeyeon, but she eventually finds her place between your girlfriend’s thighs.

Taeyeon doesn’t give her time to get comfortable—snapping her legs behind Karina’s neck, locking her ankles and forcing her face-first into her pussy.

The ease with which Karina adjusts to her new position tells you that this is far from her first time at being subjected to such treatment by your girlfriend. Not that you minded one bit—you knew Taeyeon’s appetite well, especially when it came to the buffet of beautiful women that walked the halls of SM Entertainment, you knew that at the end of the day she had eyes only for you.

You can’t see Karina’s efforts on Taeyeon’s cunt, only the effect it has on her—her sharp inhales, her slight quivers, her beautiful features twisting in expressions of delight. It’s more than enough to aid in your recovery—Taeyeon’s face awash with pleasure, while Karina’s back is arched high, her ass raised in the air and in clear view, the hint of her glistening pussy winking at you from below.

“Someone’s been practicing without me,” Taeyeon says. “Who else has been using this pretty little mouth—Irene? Seulgi? Or have you been playing with your own toys lately?”

Karina doesn’t answer with words, not that she can with Taeyeon’s legs trapping her in place. Instead, you see her movements pick up speed, her head bobbing up and down, side to side, making sure to lick and taste every inch of Taeyeon’s cunt.

“Look at her, darling, look at what a good, dirty slut she is.” Taeyeon’s legs get tighter around Karina, her hips rising, grinding against Karina’s face, guiding her student’s tongue towards her most sensitive spots.

Soon all you hear is the sounds of Karina’s tongue slurping away against Taeyeon’s pussy, and Taeyeon’s moans getting louder and louder with each passing second. Seeing Taeyeon getting pleased was a performance of its own, and you find yourself stroking your own cock in response, restoring it back to it’s fullest potential.

As captivating as it is to watch, you are more than ready to join back in, taking the few steps forward and falling on your knees and onto the bed with Karina and Taeyeon.

Taeyeon’s eyes snap open as she feels your weight join them, spying your full mast and regarding you with a heated look, her eyes alone sending a message that’s loud and clear.

You take up position behind Karina, who still hasn’t seemed to notice your presence, far too consumed in Taeyeon’s pussy.

You move that precious inch forward, your cock brushing against Karina’s hot slit, and she shivers. You can’t help yourself, flexing your hardness against her slick opening, staining the tip of your cock with her juices, building up the agonising anticipation within the two of you.

“Go ahead, darling,” Taeyeon says, beckoning you closer, “fuck your new pet.”

Taeyeon’s words cast a spell on you, and your hips move forward on their own, and for the first time of the night your cock breaches Karina’s waiting, warm pussy.

“Daddy!” Karina cries out. An involuntary gasp leaves your lungs as your cock pushes forward. She’s tight—almost unbearably so, and you’re met with an instant resistance as her lips struggle to stretch themselves around your length.

“Karina are you -”

“I’m f-fine,” Karina replies, and you look to Taeyeon who gives only a nod. “I can take it.”

You take a deep breath, deciding to take it slow, giving her time to adjust to your length as you push in a further inch—ah—and another—fuck—and another—more.

Karina’s pussy gets wetter and wetter with each inch, so warm and tight, growing more and more familiar your cock, initial feelings of discomfort and pain turning into minor shocks of pleasure and fulfillment.

She rests her head on Taeyeon’s thigh, no longer having the focus to eat her senior’s pussy, only able to brace herself in Taeyeon’s lap and ride out the experience of taking your cock whole. Taeyeon seems to not mind at all, her grin showing her delight in seeing you fill the younger idol’s cunt with your cock.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Karina’s first cock was yours?” Taeyeon asks. “Oh, she’s been fucked plenty, I’ve made sure of it myself. With all manner of toys, haven’t you?”

“Y—yes!” Karina gasps. “But—not—like—this!”

“That’s right,” Taeyeon says, “never with a real man’s cock.”

Taeyeon’s words are all you need, and with one, solid thrust forward, you impale Karina with your cock, driving yourself completely inside her, making her feel filled for the first time.

“Yes!” Karina’s head shoots up as your hips collide, her back arching and body shuddering as she screams out in pure joy. Her walls squeeze around you so tightly, bathing your cock in her juices, soaking your length.

It takes you off guard, leaving you to grip hard into the plump cheeks of her ass while Karina claims her first orgasm around your cock. You should’ve known, should’ve expected it—given how close she already was before, but yet you hadn’t anticipated Karina to be so sensitive.

“Did you just cum?” Taeyeon asks, the tone of her voice landing somewhere between being disappointed and impressed.

“A little,” Karina says, catching her breath against Taeyeon’s thigh.

Taeyeon loosens her legs behind Karina’s neck, taking her leash and yanking her face upwards to bring her to her eye-level. “I told you already, slut, this is about making your daddy happy. Not you—understand?”

Karina nods meekly and turns back to you, her expression genuinely apologetic, “sorry, daddy.”

You caress her ass, giving her cheek a firm squeeze to let her know it’s okay, and as she back turns around you begin to move.

Your strokes are slow at first—not only for her comfort, you need just as much time to adjust to having someone that tight around you, suffocating your cock, drenching you in her wetness.

She moans into Taeyeon’s pussy—a low, sensual thrum—as you plunder depths that you couldn’t quite find before with her throat, finding a slow rhythm as you pump in and out of Karina’s body.

You ache with each collision of your hips, your animal instincts screaming at you to go faster, to claim this pet as your own, to fuck her into oblivion—but you want to take your time with her. The last thing you want to do is rush the experience, to miss the way her cheeks bounce when your hips meet her ass, or the way her whole body trembles and shivers as you bury your cock to the hilt inside her.

You find your grip into either side of her small waist, holding her still and giving you leverage to drive your cock into her with full, deep strokes.

Taeyeon observes you and Karina closely, like the proctor of some pornographic exam, judging the way Karina takes your cock, her every reaction to being stretched out by you.

“What are you doing?” Taeyeon interrupts, somehow offended by the way you’re fucking Karina. “This is your gift. Your pet. Don’t make love to her—fuck her—use her.”

You pause mid-stroke, your cock halfway into Karina’s pussy, to see your girlfriend staring daggers at you.

“She’s not the precious, innocent girl you think she is—she’s a slut waiting to be used. She wants to be used,” Taeyeon says. She yanks on Karina’s leash again, prompting her to answer.

“Yes,” Karina says. “Use me. Please. I’ve needed your cock ever since I saw you fucking her. I needed to know how it felt for myself.”

Karina emphasises her point by pushing her hips back and sliding her pussy down on your cock, slapping her ass against you. She grinds her hips as she takes your hilt, clenching her muscles around you and hugging your cock with the tightness of her walls, stealing a gasp from the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” You growl, caught unaware, as Taeyeon gives you a look that says—'see?’.

You make up your mind then and there—if this is how they wanted to play, then so be it.

Karina attempts to slide herself back off you for another stroke, but you tighten your grip into her waist, holding her against you, keeping her cheeks firm against your crotch and her pussy impaled with your cock.

Making sure Taeyeon sees, you raise your hand high in the air, and with force, you bring it straight down on Karina’s ass, instantly turning unmarked, alabaster-white skin red.

Karina winces, absorbing the pain with a slight whimper, and in a low, lustful whisper says—“again, please.”

You submit to her demands, raising your hand once more, bringing your hand back down on her cheek, rocking her ass with each strike as you spank her again.

“This is what you want?”

And again -

“To be used by me?”

And again -

“To be fucked like the whore you are?”

Karina moans out with each strike you bring down upon her—each time her body tenses and tightens around you, and after each hit she raises her ass back up, wanting more.

You stare at her ass, admiring the angry red imprint of your hand, proof of your ownership of this perfect, fuckable body. Karina hisses as you squeeze into her cheeks, followed by a sigh as you draw your hips back, slipping your cock out of her sinful cunt.

Taeyeon chooses this moment to chime in, “tell your daddy how you like it, 'Rina.”

“I like it however he wants it—as rough as he wants,” Karina answers. “As long as he doesn’t stop fucking -”

Karina’s last words die on her lips as you slam your cock back inside her, plunging deep into her slick, hot pussy. She tightens around you, desperately holding on as you pull back again, unwilling to let go as you withdraw your entire length out—right before pushing back in, again, fucking her with force, pumping deep into Karina’s body.

You quickly find a rhythm, fucking her with hard, fast strokes, your cock barely making it out halfway each time before filling her completely again, finding home in the heat of her cunt. It’s all consuming—how good it is to fuck such a heavenly pussy, juices overflowing around you, making each entry and exit slicker, warmer, hotter.

It’s a joke that you wanted to take it easy—this is how you should’ve been fucking her all along—pumping her hard, using her body, filling her hot, idol pussy with your throbbing cock.

“Poor girl,” Taeyeon says, her fingers lazily toying with her own clit. Karina’s far too lost in her own world of pleasure from being fucked by you to pay Taeyeon any attention. “Such a big, strong man stretching out such a tight, little pussy.”

“Mmmmf! Yes!” Karina moans, struggling to find the words to describe how good your cock is making her feel. “He’s so fucking big. He’s stretching me out so—fucking—good!”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“Yes! I—fucking—love—it.” Karina stutters with each hard pump into her, like you’re fucking each word out of her sultry lips. “I—fucking—love—daddy’s—cock!”

You don’t stop your relentless pumping, all that matters in the moment is experiencing the intensity of fucking someone so willing, so needy for your cock. You drive deeper and deeper into her, basking in the feeling of your shaft spearing in and out of her glistening lips, fucking her until all she knows is your cock filling her cunt.

“More!”

Taeyeon’s moans join the fray, fucking herself on her own fingers, sliding higher up the bed so she can watch as you fuck Karina face-first into your mattress, shaking the bed with each slam into the idol’s cunt.

“Fuck—more!”

You bring your hand down on Karina’s other, unmarked cheek, slapping her with an open palm, synchronising your thrusts with successive spanks as you shade both cheeks a matching red. By now you’re no longer afraid to hurt her—the harder you spank her—the harder you fuck her—the louder her moans get, the tighter and wetter she is around you—her body calling for you, begging for more.

Karina feels so good around your cock, so right, like you were made to be the one to claim her ridiculously tight pussy as yours.

“I’m going to—again—I’m going to—!”

You don’t let up—it would be unthinkable to do so now—her pussy too hot, too good, your fucking too intense to give her a morsel of respite. Her breaths turn into moans which turn into screams, and soon the bedroom is filled with nothing but Karina’s voice calling out your name.

“I—I—I—fuck—fuck—fuck—DADDY!”

Karina’s cry bounces off the walls as her hips slam back against you and her wetness pours out of her cunt and around your cock. You hold her by her waist, keeping her in place, making sure your shaft remains embedded inside her quaking pussy, feeling every shake and tremble of her cunt around your cock.

She drowns your cock in her juices, writhing upon the bed, a lustful, well-fucked mess between you and Taeyeon, a puddle of moans and gasps as her orgasm overtakes her. It’s a wonderful, beautiful sight, and the tightness in your balls wants you, needs you to join her.

Yet somehow, in some herculean display of restraint, you resist the need, even daring slow, long pumps as you fuck the last of Karina’s orgasm out of her body. You’re not ready to cum yet—not now, not when there is one pussy left unfucked, one orgasm still unclaimed.

Karina, on the other hand, embraces the pleasure, letting the powerful orgasm crash through her tall, slim frame, leaving her to collapse underneath you. Her pussy leaves your cock glazed with her juices, sliding your length out of her as she falls back into Taeyeon’s lap.

“Silly girl, after I explicitly told you not to cum before your daddy did,” Taeyeon chides her, looking down with disappointment at the fact that she beat the both of you two to an orgasm. “Seems that someone might need some further instruction.”

Taeyeon’s words breeze through your ears, barely registering with your brain, your mind in its current state only having the capacity to focus on one sole goal—cum. And right now, having just fucked one of the tightest, wettest holes you’ve had the fortune of experiencing, it was time to claim the other, and it was time to teach some lessons of your own.

“Taeyeon,” you say, your voice coming out far raspier and deeper than usual.

Taeyeon looks up at you, her eyes going wide when she sees the key you’re holding in your hand. “When did you—?”

Karina suddenly springs to life, pulling herself out of Taeyeon’s lap and diving for her wrists. Though Taeyeon holds a certain power over the two of you, physically she is outmatched, Karina easily pinning her tiny body under her own, straddling her senior’s hips and grabbing her thin wrists together with her freed hands.

“You bitch.” Taeyeon struggles underneath her, but her efforts are fruitless, as Karina pulls her wrists to the bed frame, handcuffing Taeyeon.

Karina turns back to you, still sitting on Taeyeon’s stomach, and asks, “did I do good, daddy?”

“Perfect,” you respond, moving up the bed and over to Taeyeon, carefully taking either of her ankles into your hands, and spreading her legs apart.

“Go on then,” Taeyeon says. “Use me, fuck me—show the pet how it’s really done.”

You don’t need to be told twice, positioning yourself between her legs, holding onto her ankles and pointing her feet towards the ceiling. Unlike Karina you know with full confidence that you don’t have to start easy—it would be an insult to treat Taeyeon any other way. You line your cock up with her pink pussy, aiming the tip directly at her entrance, and with one, harsh shove you roughly penetrate past her lips, sinking your cock deep within her cunt.

“Fuck!” Taeyeon hisses through gritted teeth as she’s filled for the first time in two months. Your cock easily slips into her, reintroducing itself to her hot, slick cunt.

You slam your hips against her, her walls wrapping themselves around you in her warmth, in her tightness, in her wetness, gripping around you and clutching your cock in her pussy where it belonged. It was overwhelming—being back in your girlfriend’s pussy—as small and petite as she was, her pussy could take punishment like no other.

“Is that all you got?” Taeyeon asks, wriggling her hips around you, adjusting herself, remembering what it was like to have your cock inside her. “Fuck me like you mean it. Put on a show for our new pet.”

You chuckle to yourself and draw your hips back, letting half of your cock slip out of her, and then slamming your hips back in. You take up her challenge, jumping the gun and fucking her at speed—picking up right where you left off with Karina, purely focused on ravaging Taeyeon’s pussy.

You can’t see her face from underneath Karina, only hear her approving moans, her melodic voice singing out cries of pleasure as you dominate her pussy. You push her legs forward, angling her hips upwards to target the roof of her cunt, causing her pitch to raise as you plunge in and out of her with rapid precision.

It had been two whole months since you fucked Taeyeon, but it was like riding a bicycle—an extremely horny, cock-starved bicycle. While Karina was naturally tight and impossibly wet, Taeyeon was an expert when it came to fucking, having had countless nights of practice at working her muscles around you, rolling her hips against you, using her walls to envelope your cock in the most pleasurable sensations. Her lips grip hard around you, her pussy squeezes you with every thrust, so perfectly moulded around your cock.

“Pet,” Taeyeon whispers to Karina. “Give me a taste of those huge tits he’s so crazy about.”

Karina moves above Taeyeon, arching her back and raising her ass in the air, leaning forward and giving Taeyeon undivided access to her breasts. Taeyeon lifts her head, reaching out with her tongue and pulling a nipple into her mouth. With her hands cuffed she’s unable to hold on with anything but her teeth, keeping the taut nipple trapped in her mouth, tonguing away at the gorgeous flesh, Karina’s tits muffling the moans of pleasure caused by your fucking.

You’re driven mad by the sight of Karina’s ass, positioned directly in front of you, still glowing a crimson red from your prior spanking. You give her another courtesy spank, causing her nipple to momentarily slip out of Taeyeon’s mouth.

Karina uses the chance to torture her senior, shifting upwards, her breasts out of reach of Taeyeon’s hunting tongue. “Why don’t we see who’s the dirty slut now?”

Karina slides up her body and swings a leg over either side of Taeyeon’s head, lowering her pussy onto her senior’s lips, mounting her face with her cunt.

“Yes!” Karina moans as Taeyeon obeys without complaint, more than happy to fulfil her oral fixation and lick and suck away at Karina’s clit. The younger idol’s moans get louder as Taeyeon’s tongue expertly triggers her most sensitive areas, using her years as a seasoned pro at making idols cum to show Karina that maybe she had bit off more than she could chew.

Having Karina’s pussy on her lips seems to spike Taeyeon’s arousal, suffocated moans escaping from beneath Karina’s cunt, her own pussy drowning your shaft in her wetness, clenching around you in satisfaction. The feeling only spurs you on—you need to make up for the times missed, the nights when you weren’t fucking her, you need to repent for leaving a whore like her without your cock for so long.

“She’s eating me so good, daddy!” Karina moans, grinding her hips into Taeyeon’s face, hands gripping on either side of Taeyeon’s head, fucking her cunt onto Taeyeon’s tongue without restraint.

She leans back, close enough that you let go of one of Taeyeon’s legs, using the free hand to reach forward and take one of her hanging, ample breasts into your hand, groping the large mound.

“Yes—please—play with my tits!” Karina purrs, turning her head to the side, reaching for you with her hands, capturing your face in her palms and meeting your mouth with her own. She invades your mouth with her tongue, kissing you passionately, sounding the pleasure received from Taeyeon’s dextrous tongue into your mouth.

You lose a bit of your control then, too consumed in the ripeness of her young body and the intensity of Taeyeon’s cunt. The bed creaks underneath the frenzy of the three of you fucking, desperate bodies moving in synch—your cock impaling Taeyeon with heavy, strong strokes, Taeyeon’s tongue drinking in the juices of Karina’s pussy, lapping away at Karina’s lips, while Karina peppers your face with kisses, occasionally meeting your own tongue, sometimes your cheek, sometimes your chin, just needing to have some part of her touching some part of you.

“She’s close daddy—I can feel it,” Karina whispers into your ear. “Fuck her harder, daddy, fuck her like she deserves—like she needs.”

You were already so close to cumming for the second time when you were buried in Karina’s pussy, and it takes little work for Taeyeon’s needy cunt to bring you to the same brink.

Taeyeon’s moans get louder and louder from beneath Karina’s pussy, pleased hums becoming muffled cries of joy, until finally, she reaches her climax. Her every muscle tenses, her eyes clench shut and her whole body is seized by an overwhelming pleasure that courses through her, forcing her to lift her head out from underneath Karina’s pussy, no longer able to continue her work on her junior, no longer able to do anything aside from let her orgasm wash through her.

“So fucking good!” She cries out, mouth now free to moan through clenched teeth, soon becoming loud, animalistic groans of euphoria begging you to fill her pussy with your cum. Her pussy reflexively clenches and pulses around you, her walls massaging your cock as you slam into her, doing all it could to pull you towards your own oncoming orgasm.

Karina’s quick to replace Taeyeon’s tongue with her own fingers, picking up where the older idol left off, making quick work of her own cunt. She’s already been brought to the edge by her senior’s expert tongue, and it’s mere seconds following Taeyeon’s own orgasm that you see her sweat-drenched back arch—tensing and stretching out in front of you.

“Ah—ah—I—again—FUCK!” Karina’s final orgasm hits hard and fast, one moment her hand is frantically working at her own pussy, the next her whole body sighs, her head thrown back and eyes to the heavens as she reaches her own serene ecstasy.

Karina’s orgasm brings Taeyeon out of the last vestiges of her own—she loses control of her own body, a waterfall of creamy juices spilling out from her cunt and down onto Taeyeon’s mouth below. She goes limp, falling back into you, head resting back on your shoulder as her she rides out the aftershocks of pleasure against you.

It was far, far too much—too beautiful women, so incredibly hot and horny, cumming both in your arms and on your cock—and your own end was rapidly approaching

“Cum for her, daddy. Cum inside her.” Karina nipped at your ears, betraying the innocence of her beautiful face with the filth slipping from her silky lips. “Give us your cum, we’ve been so good.”

Taeyeon groans in agreement below, each thrust fucking a new moan out of her. “Do it, darling, I know you’re close, fucking—cum—in—me!”

You more than willingly obey the two, your fingers digging into the tender flesh of Karina’s breasts, holding her tight body against you as with one, final thrust, you slam your hips into Taeyeon’s pussy, stuffing as much of your cock as you can into her, wildly erupting insider her willing cunt.

A guttural roar escapes your throat as your cock throbs with ecstasy and you fire shot after shot of semen Taeyeon’s inviting pussy, painting her walls with rich, thick ropes of cum. Taeyeon’s body writhes deliciously beneath you as your cock pulsates inside her, her hips lifting to take more and more of your cock, to milk more and more of your cum.

Your world goes white, nothing matters but the feeling of Taeyeon’s warmth wringing the cum from your cock, of Karina’s body in your hands and pressed up against your chest, and of their lovely voices singing harmonised moans into your ears.

You feel like an addict getting their first fix after a long period of withdrawal, taking in your first dose of cumming inside Taeyeon’s pussy after months away, shattering you with mind-breaking pleasure and leaving you drunk on the feeling of her cunt.

It’s only after the cascade of bliss has passed that exhaustion dawns on your body, as all the vigour and adrenaline that had previously fuelled your fucking session is dumped out of you, leaving you as nothing but a shaking, drained husk, devoid of cum and energy.

Karina falls back into you, equally worn out, quite literally fucked senseless through three orgasms. You give her a light kiss on her cheek, guiding her to the bed as she slides off both you and Taeyeon. You follow after her, your own cock slipping out of Taeyeon’s thoroughly ravished pussy, filled to the brim with your own cum, a mix of your semen and her juices streaming out of her lower lips and dripping down her thighs and after your cock.

You land in a heap at Taeyeon’s side, hand falling on her chest, idly thumbing the remainder of her negligee, bunched up around her waist to better expose her breasts and her pussy during your fucking. You look up at her, look at the love of your life, somehow once again delivering on her promise to give you a gift you’d never forget, and surpassing even your wildest expectations.

Taeyeon looks back at you—there are no more words to say, only joy at getting to be together, getting to please each other and fulfil each other’s deepest desires. Her eyes flick upwards, gesturing to her hands, still handcuffed to the bed.

You reach over to uncuff her, only to find yourself distracted by her lips, glossy and bright, overcoming you with a sudden desire to kiss her. You kiss her softly once more on her lips, struck by the bittersweet taste of the aftermath of Karina’s orgasm. It’s alluring, fascinating, and you must have more—pressing your mouths together and kissing her deeper, your tongues finding and caressing each other, savouring the lasting flavour of Karina’s nectar on Taeyeon’s tongue.

Taeyeon moans into your mouth as you break the kiss, and you return yourself to the task at hand and uncuff her wrists.

Karina meanwhile has stirred during your kiss, lowering herself to Taeyeon’s waist, running her tongue up her thighs, taking her turn to clean up the results of your wanton fucking.

“Good girl,” Taeyeon purrs, hand now free to lovingly stroke Karina’s hair as the young idol laps up the white cocktail mixed between Taeyeon’s thighs.

“Mmmmfff….” Karina hums into Taeyeon’s pussy, single-mindedly focused on ensuring she gets every last drop of cum you had emptied into her senior.

“That’s right, 'Rina. Next time, you’ll be the one to take your daddy’s cum.”

The only acknowledgment that comes from Karina is a long, final slurp. She licks up the last of the dregs of your semen from Taeyeon’s hole, swallows it down in one gulp, and lets out a satisfied “Ahhh!”

Karina takes a moment to survey her work on Taeyeon’s pussy, and deciding that it has been properly serviced, she gives Taeyeon’s thigh a final kiss, before shifting her priorities over to you.

She makes sure she has your full attention, her wide eyes prompting you to watch as she starts at the base of your shaft, before dragging her tongue up your full length and all the way to the head, diligently giving your cock the same service she gave Taeyeon’s cunt.

“Now, for you,” Taeyeon says, and it takes every effort to rip your eyes away from the vixen thoroughly licking your drained cock and focus back on your girlfriend, “did you enjoy part one of your welcome home present?”

The question barely registers over the work of Karina’s determined tongue busying itself with the arduous task of cleaning your cock. The sudden attention only leaves you with enough brain-cells to ask—“part one?”

Taeyeon shifts in the bed, sidling alongside you, levelling herself so her lips meet your ear. You had thought yourself completely drained, but under Karina’s tongue and Taeyeon’s hot breath, you can already feel yourself begin to stir once more.

“You didn’t think this was all I had planned, did you, darling?” Taeyeon asks. “We have two whole months to make up for.”

DEBUT ft. Kazuha

kazuha x male reader smut

7k words

Lights illuminate the stage.

Your eyes meet.

Kazuha starts to move.

And you swear to yourself, you’ve never seen anything sexier in your life.

-

“Baby!” Kazuha shouts from the other end of the hallway, bursting into a full sprint towards you the moment she spots you.

“Is that the world-famous Kazuha of Le Sserafim?” You grin, bracing yourself for her, opening your arms as Kazuha launches herself at you, trusting you implicitly to catch her.

She falls into your embrace, throwing herself around you, wrapping her legs around your waist and arms around your neck. You spin her around, sharing in her excitement, her joy, a perfect moment with a perfect girl.

You stop your rotations, holding her up in the air, leaving both of you panting for breath. Kazuha nestles her face into your neck, a pleasant hum against your skin as she makes herself comfortable in her favourite place - your arms.

She spends several moments there, and even though your arms start to tire, you hold onto her as if your life depended on it - and in a way, it does. It feels so right to have her like this - your bodies interlocked, her warm breath on your neck, her heart beating against your chest, and the floral scent of whatever hair product she uses permeating your senses and clouding your mind with thoughts of only Kazuha.

Eventually, she loosens herself from you, legs unravelling themselves from your back, and she slides back down to the ground. She’s tall enough that it’s barely a drop for her, easily finding her footing while her hands remain clasped behind your neck.

She looks up at you, studying your face, the harsh lighting of the hallway hitting her brown eyes, turning them into golden pools of honey. A thought occurs to her, and you watch as her face transforms - her brows furrow, her lips purse.

“Wait - how did you get back here?”

You shrug, putting on your most innocent-looking poker face. She has a point - after the performance you had snuck your way out of the crowd and into the backstage area. It had taken a lot of fast-talking, and maybe a bit of breaking and entering, but getting to hold Kazuha like this made it worth the risk.

You decide that it would be best if she didn’t get involved in any criminal activities on her first day of being an idol, and give her a noncommittal answer - “I have my ways. Besides, how else was I supposed to give you these?”

You take your hand off her back, showing her the carefully curated bouquet of flowers you brought for her, each bearing a different meaning - tulips for love, peonies for luck, and daffodils for new beginnings.

You can tell she’s not entirely convinced, but she still excitedly takes the flowers out of your hands, bringing them to her nose to take in their aroma.

“Mmm, these are gorgeous,” Kazuha says, deciding to drop the issue and simply be happy that you’re here. “Let’s move past the part where I pretend you got here without breaking any laws and skip straight to the part where you kiss me.”

“Deal,” you reply, moving in for the kiss - only, before you even get the chance to take Kazuha’s feathery lips with your own, you’re rudely interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“In here - quick!”

Your eyes snap open the instant you hear their approach, but Kazuha’s already ahead of you. She grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the hallway and through the closest doorway, dragging you inside an empty dressing room and shutting the door behind her.

She lets go of your wrist once you’re both inside, hurriedly closing and locking the door behind her after she enters. She presses her ear to the door, trying to hear any noise from the other side. It takes several tense, quiet seconds before Kazuha is satisfied that the coast is clear, breathing a sigh of relief and slumping back against the door.

It takes one look at your face and she starts laughing, a contagious laugh that you can’t help but join in, the two of you giggling like schoolchildren skipping class and up to no good. It’s rather appropriate that Kazuha is wearing something like a school uniform - from her neutral grey skirt, showing off just the right amount of thigh to send your heart racing, to her neatly buttoned blouse and Windsor-knotted tie.

“That was close,” Kazuha says. “In hindsight, probably not a good idea to start making out in an open hallway.”

You take a seat opposite her on the counter of one of the make-up stations, leaning against the backlit vanity mirror. “It would be a fairly interesting bit of news if we did get caught.”

“God, could you imagine the headlines? Newly debuted idol already caught in a dating scandal.”

“I’m sure they would come up with something spicier than that,” you say. “Like - Le Sserafim’s Kazuha seduces incredibly handsome guy into backstage tryst.”

Your boastfulness earns you an eyeroll from Kazuha, but she still rewards you with another of her pretty laughs that makes your heart soar. “Backstage tryst? Is that what this is? And here I thought you came all this way to cheer me on.”

“Among other things…”

“Is that so,” Kazuha smiles, making her way across the room and over to you. She takes your left hand into both of hers, idly running her thumbs over your knuckles, her subtle way of suggesting that you make your move.

It’s an impossible to not fall in love with her all over again. You haven’t even been together for a long time - you can still remember the day where out of nowhere a Japanese ballerina pirouetted into your life, immediately taking your heart with just her smile, her eyes, and her laughter. But most of all, it was the moment you saw her perform for the first time that changed everything for you - seeing her confidence, her charisma, getting to see her do what she does best - that made you fall head over heels for her.

“If I remember correctly,” Kazuha says, somewhat shyly, “I think you were about to kiss me…”

“I think you’re right,” you answer, placing your hands on her waist and pulling her close to you, taking her feathery lips with your own, meeting her in a kiss that is at once fiery and intense. It takes little prompting for Kazuha to start kissing you back - her tongue pushes forward, parting your lips, searching your mouth for its partner.

You breathe her in - flavours of strawberries and cinnamon on your tongue, the taste accompanied by her moans into your mouth. Your kiss rapidly heats up - her hands move to your chest, taking handfuls of your t-shirt in her grasp, holding you against her, close enough that she can feel you begin to stir against her centre.

Mere seconds pass and you’re losing yourself in her kiss, overwhelmed by the rush of having your girlfriend’s body so close to you. Like always, just as it has been from the very start of your relationship, things quickly become as hot and passionate as Kazuha herself.

It doesn’t take long for your burgeoning arousal to become too difficult for both of you to ignore, and you can feel Kazuha’s lips turn upwards into a smile against your own.

“Lucky me,” she says between kisses, letting her hand wander downwards to trace the outline of your hardness poking through your pants. You can’t hold back the grunt that leaves your lips as her fingers grope through the fabric on either side of your length - the feeling alone is enough to already have you throbbing under her touch. “You really are excited to see me, aren’t you?

“I have to take my chances where I can get them,” you manage to say. “Now that you are a famous idol and all, who knows when you’ll have time for me?”

“Oh, I could always make some time for my number one fan.”

You smirk to yourself as you begin a path of kisses from her cheek and down her jawline. Kazuha tilts her head upwards as your lips get lower, helping you find the curve of her neck.

“You looked so good out there today,” you say, as you reach for Kazuha’s tie and start to unloosen its knot.

“T-thank you,” Kazuha sighs, her eyes still shut, letting herself embrace the feeling of your lips against her skin. “I mean - I think I did fine…”

“Better than fine,” you whisper nonchalantly, paying attention to her sighs as your kisses venture further down her body.

“Yes, but -”

Kazuha’s hands grip around your shoulders, and you lift your head from her neck, meeting her eyes and seeing a strained expression on her face. You can see the thoughts racing through her head, you can read her mind in an instant - it was one of the things you loved about her, how unashamedly she wore her emotions on her sleeve.

“I just - I don’t know. What if I messed up some of the choreo and didn’t even notice? We did a Q&A after - oh God, what if I said something wrong but my Korean wasn’t good enough to tell? What if -”

“Kazuha - breathe.” You interrupt her - knowing full well that she could talk for hours without even needing to stop for a breath if you let her, especially when she gave into her perfectionist tendencies and started looking for flaws in her own performances.

Kazuha stops herself, closing her eyes for a beat and inhaling deeply. She holds the breath, before letting out her stresses and anxiety with a long exhale. “Right - yes, you’re right. I know you’re right. Sorry, I’ll stop ruining the mood.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle to yourself, now having completely loosened her tie and unbuttoned her collar, opening more surface area for you to explore. You keep your hands on her blouse, moving forward to kiss her neck again, only -

“But -”

“Kazuha,” you whisper into her neck, trying to soothe her with your words and kisses, returning your lips to the wonderful slope of her shoulder, while your fingers work on the remainder of her buttons.

“I just - are you sure it was okay?”

“Okay?!” You exclaim, loud enough that Kazuha shushes you. “Zuha, you were fucking amazing!”

“You’re just saying that because you have to.”

“I’m saying it because I mean it.” You halt your kisses across her collarbone, turning to stare straight into Kazuha’s eyes, making sure she sees how much you mean the words coming from your mouth. “They’re going to love it. Thousands - millions - of people are going to watch you and they’ll fall in love with you the moment they see you on stage.”

A slight blush colours Kazuha’s face, and she replies in a soft voice, “you’re the only one I really want to fall in love with me.”

“Oh, we’re far past that - I fell in love with you at first sight,” you say. “But it’s only a matter of time before everyone else gets to see the same amazing girl that I am lucky to be around every day.”

You undo another button on her blouse and suddenly feel the need to clarify yourself.

“Well, maybe not all of the same things that I get to see.”

The top half of her blouse undone, you kiss your way down her chest, down the left side of her body, causing Kazuha’s body to quiver as your lips get closer and closer to her heartbeat.

“Baby,” Kazuha says, her voice tinted with lust and mischief, “seeing as you say I did so well, maybe I deserve some sort of reward?”

“Way ahead of you,” you respond, as the last button of her blouse comes undone, and with a single, clean motion, you untuck her shirt from her skirt, and part both sides to reveal the flawless, vanilla-white skin beneath.

Your eyes are instantly drawn to her abdomen, admiring the wonderful tightness of her well-sculpted abs - the type of midsection that most would die for, built specifically to be put on display and shown off. You place your palm flat against her stomach, drawing a sharp inhale from her as you feel her muscles tense against your fingertips.

You drag your fingers up her body, past her cute bellybutton and over the defined ridges and valleys of her abs, ending your trail at the lining of her bra. You’re at once thankful for the zipper at the front of the black sports bra, easily unzipped and pulled down, setting two perfectly shaped mounds free.

Her bra still remains underneath her breasts, not completely unzipped, serving their purpose and pushing her small, perky breasts up, providing enough lift to give even her tiny buds an enticing cleavage, presenting the lovely pair on a platter for you. You don’t waste a single second, moving in close, dipping your head down and taking a rosy nipple into your lips, feeling the texture of her taut nipple against your tongue.

“Oh - oh - God yes,” Kazuha purrs, her voice barely above a whisper, finally able to let go of her worries and think only of the pleasure you’re making her feel. She bites her lip as you take hold of her free breast with your other hand, squeezing and massaging her, rolling the stiffened tip between your thumb and your forefinger.

You give both her breasts your equal and undivided attention, taking turns with the magnificent pair, teasing her hard buds with swipes of your tongue and playful nips of your teeth. Kazuha pushes her chest forward and into your mouth, lifting her head and letting out a long, low moan as you squeeze and suck on her small, round breasts, covering her nipples with a translucent gloss of your saliva.

You gleefully spend your time in the midst of her soft flesh, sucking and licking her sensitive buds, ravishing her body with your mouth, cherishing her every sigh and exclamation that leaves her pretty lips.

You can feel her get hotter, needier, her moans turning sultry and lustful. Reluctantly, you tear your lips away from her chest, rising from your seat on the make-up counter and to your feet. She follows along with your movements - you spin her around, switching places with her, letting her sit on the surface of the counter in front of you and lean back against the mirror behind her. You slide down her body, returning your lips and tongue to her skin, mapping out a journey all the way from her chest and down to her centre.

“You worked so hard tonight - relax and let me take care of you.”

“O-okay.” Kazuha breathes, her abs flexing against your lips as you continue your fervent path down her body and past her navel. “Take care of me, baby.”

You sink to your knees, taking her legs into your arms and spreading them apart, dutifully taking your position on the floor before her, ready to worship at the altar of Kazuha. Carefully, you unzip the side of her skirt, letting the unneeded item of clothing fall to the ground, granting you a full view of her long, unbelievably sexy legs.

Kazuha knows you all too well, knows your love for her slim, fit body, chiselled through years of pursuing perfection as a ballerina, and she knows exactly where your first port of call will be - her thighs.

You dive into the most delicious part of her body, kissing her thick, toned thighs, savouring the feeling of the soft, creamy-white skin against your lips. Her muscles tense under your touch, goose bumps prickling up to meet you as you taste the salty-sweet flavour of the sweat still lingering long after her performance.

You indulge yourself in her, marking her with your tongue, your teeth, your lips, doing your best to leave no inch of her wondrous thighs neglected. She moans as you get closer to her centre, and she tries to shift her body, angling her hips and urging you, urging your lips higher up her thigh, pleading with her body for you to take her womanhood with your tongue.

“Baby,” Kazuha whimpers, hands reaching down, pawing for the back of your head. “Baby, please.”

As much as you don’t want to leave her thighs, you know you’re running short on time, reminding yourself that this was all about taking care of her.

You let your hands travel up the back of her legs, reaching under her to take two handfuls of her juicy ass. You can barely fit her cheeks, already squished against the counter surface, into your hands. She raises her hips slightly, allowing you access to the waistband of her black panties, letting you drag the cotton pair, already damp with her arousal, all the way down her legs and off her feet, leaving her bare, naked pussy exposed and on display for you.

Kazuha’s hand finds the back of your head, threading her fingers through your hair, pulling you towards the glistening, pink lips of her pussy. You start off slow, reintroducing your tongue to her pussy with a long, slow lick, receiving your answer from Kazuha in the form of a soft, wordless moan.

“How did it feel?” You ask, taking your time, teasing Kazuha’s pussy with agonisingly slow licks. “How did it feel to have all those eyes on you?”

“So - so good,” Kazuha whispers, whether in response to your question or your slurps, you don’t care, your only concern is the heat of her pussy against your lips.

“I wonder what they would all think if they could see you now. If only they knew just how horny you really are.”

The only response she can muster is another moan - she’s so hot, so wet for you, her juices freely flowing into your mouth, letting you drink in her bittersweet nectar. She squirms and writhes on your tongue, completely at the mercy of your long, slow licks along her folds, each time drawing a new gasp from her mouth, forming a beautiful melody of moans for your ears only.

You spend precious seconds covering her pussy whole, lathering her wet, moist flesh with a mixture of your saliva and her own juices, before turning your attention to the peak of her mound, capturing her stiffened clit between your lips.

“Mmmmmph, yesssss!” Kazuha hisses at the first swirl of your tongue around her clit, dissolving into a puddle of desperate mewls as you pepper the stiff bud with quick, light swipes. “Just like that, baby - just what I needed.”

You form a tight seal around her clit with your lips, sucking in her engorged mound, doubling your efforts on her pussy, breathing in her warmth. She grinds her pussy against you, pressing herself against your tongue, yearning for more and more pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” Kazuha exclaims. Each lick draws a new note of pleasure from her lips and causes her to tighten her grip onto the back of your head, to the point where her fingers dig themselves into your scalp.

You don’t slow down your efforts, dedicating yourself solely to the task of eating out your perfect, fit girlfriend’s juice, dripping pussy, using your carnal knowledge of her body - the ins and outs of what makes her scream your name, knowing the exact rhythm of licks and sucks to send her careening over the edge.

It’s not long before your exploits on her pussy and the pleasure coursing through her fit, tight body become too much for Kazuha to bear - her legs close in on either side of you, folding themselves behind your neck, pulling you deeper into her warmth, while her firm thighs clamp down on either side of your face like earmuffs, trapping you between their juicy goodness.

Your hands return to her generous cheeks, holding onto the ripe flesh for your dear life. She buries you between her thighs, smothering your face against her mound, leaving you with only the intoxicating heat of her pussy to fill your lungs with. You don’t care - couldn’t think of any better way to go - forgoing your need for air and focusing solely on your hunger for her, letting it consume you as you inhale deeply from her pussy.

“Right there, baby - oh God - yes - yes! OH - FUH-!”

Kazuha manages to catch herself before her moans turn into screams, muffling herself with her free hand, as her body explodes with pleasure. She falls forward, bracing herself on your head and folding her body over, rocking her swollen pussy against your face and shaking her hips uncontrollably against your lips.

A flood of juices streams out of her and into your mouth, and despite your every effort to eagerly lap up her precious nectar, you’re unable to stem the steady flow from her orgasm that stains your nose, cheeks, and lips - escaping from the corners of your mouth and running down your chin. You don’t let up on your frantic licking, maintaining your pace on her clit, determined to see her orgasm to the end.

“So good,” Kazuha sighs, her body twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm onto your face, “so - so - so good.”

Kazuha keeps you trapped between her legs as her orgasm dies on your chin, her hips spasming against you, her wet lips quivering against your mouth. You stay like that for a little too long, to the point where you start to feel light-headed. It’s just when you’re about to tap out that her hold on you thankfully loosens, allowing you to take a much-needed gasp of air.

You both take your time to recover, sharing nothing but panting breaths. You slip out from under her, wiping the remnants of her juices off her mouth, and rise to your feet.

You look down at Kazuha, trembling atop the table, cradling herself as she takes the time to compose herself from her momentous orgasm. Despite how dishevelled she looks - her silky, dark hair in tangles, sweat matting strands to her face, and her clothes in complete disarray, exposing her firm, tight body in its full, glorious nudity - she still looks every bit of the angelic ballerina as she was the first time you met her. She avoids your eyes as you gaze down at her, missing your smile as you see her cheeks turn a bright red, flush with embarrassment at having so easily and so quickly lost herself over to her own orgasm.

“That was - that was too good,” Kazuha finally says.

You nod in agreement, as Kazuha wearily slides herself off the counter, standing to meet you on her own feet, shaking off the fatigue from her orgasm. She places one hand on your chest and sneaks her other hand south, gripping your length through your pants. She massages you over the thin fabric, a knowing smile on her face, clearly pleased with herself as she uses her expert fingers to force a groan from your throat.

“I want you,” she breathes into the small space between your two bodies, a distance that is rapidly closing as your cock strains against the front of your pants. “I want you inside me - please.”

“Are you sure you have time?” You manage to say, more out of courtesy than concern - you’re keenly aware of how close you are, can feel your inner desires screaming for release.

“Do you really think I would leave you this hard? That would be too cruel.”

She works efficiently - holding eye contact with you the entire time her fingers go to work - first on your belt buckle, then the clasp of your pants, and finally the zip. The deftness of her fingers, the wicked grin on her face, and the delight in her eyes the moment she frees your cock from its cotton prison - it’s all a show of pure, wanton lust.

“Besides,” Kazuha says, “I can’t think of a better way to end a perfect day than having my boyfriend fill me.”

You match her grin and give her your instructions. “Turn around and bend over.”

Kazuha obediently complies, gently pushing you back, giving her enough space to turn away from you and bend forward. She keeps your cock in her hand as she does, slowly pumping you as she assumes position, while using her free hand to brace herself against the mirror.

You stare down at her exposed ass, pointed upwards into the air, presenting herself for your viewing. It seems unfair that someone so fit and athletic could have an ass so perfect and juicy, so plump and round and soft. If Kazuha’s thighs are your favourite part of her wonderland of a body, then her bountiful ass comes in a close second.

“Ready?”

You nod, and let her lead the dance, let her adjust the angle of your shaft, lining up the tip of your cock against her drenched lips. She lets your cock hang suspended, barely kissing her folds, each slight brush of your head against her wetness sending tingles up your spine.

Her eyes remain on you through the reflection, watching you, making sure your gaze is on her face as she eases herself onto you, at first grinding her hips softly, bathing your cock in her juices, before finally pulling your cock forward and sinking you into her.

You groan as she lets go of your cock and pushes her hips back against you, sliding her wet, slick pussy down onto your cock and into her body with a soft, smooth stroke. There was nothing quite like entering Kazuha for the first time, that split second where the initial inch of your cock goes from naked and exposed to suddenly being swallowed whole and surrounded by warmth, drowning you with a divine sensation like no other.

“You feel so good inside me, baby,” Kazuha whimpers as your cock breaches her entrance. Her pussy is just as tight as the rest of her - walls clenching around your cock, stretching and moulding around your length and allowing you to penetrate her fully. “So - so big… So right…”

It’s with a satisfied sigh that your hips meet, you both take a breath to savour in the moment, to bask in the feeling of Kazuha’s fit, young body impaled on your cock.

“Do it, baby,” Kazuha sighs, rolling her hips back against your waist, her juices spilling freely onto your crotch. “Give it to me, please.”

At least for tonight, her wish is your command - you decide to take it slow at first, drawing your hips back and sliding your length out from her body. Through the mirror you can see Kazuha’s eyes closed shut, biting her lip, absorbed entirely in the motions of your cock inside of her. You relish in the sight of her, in the sight of seeing someone so elegantly beautiful wracked by such fervent pleasure. You watch her closely, purposefully slowing your exit, inching yourself out until only the head of your cock remains on the precipice of her entrance, before suddenly spearing your cock forward and right back into her warm, inviting pussy.

“OH!” Her mouth opens wide as you fill her once again, thrusting back into her, eliciting a strained moan from her. You build your pace - exiting and entering her again, and again, and again - finding your rhythm, fucking out of her gasps and moans and sighs, leaving her to brace herself against the mirror as your thrusts become harder and faster.

You’re not sure where to look at this point - her whole body is rocked with each solid pump; her face a mixture of torrid emotions, her small breasts bouncing up and down, and her round cheeks shaking with each clash of your hips, making her back arch into the loveliest of curves.

You hold onto her full hips as your cock disappears between her ass cheeks and into her tight pussy over and over, each time soaking your shaft in a new sheen of her juices.

Kazuha quickly finds her own tempo, matching your every stroke, rolling her hips back onto you as you enter her, exponentially increasing the pleasure for both of you, using the pressure of her walls around your cock to their fullest extent.

“You’re so big - so thick,” Kazuha gasps, her voice filling the room with moans, her calls for more - her calls for you. “You’re stretching me out so good, baby.”

You fuck Kazuha to a steady beat, neither increasing or decreasing in your speed, rather in the force of your thrusts, each hard thrust into her body accompanied by a loud slap of skin to skin, fucking her further into the mirror and against her own reflection.

“Look at yourself, Kazuha,” you say, “look at how much you love this, how much you love my cock.”

“Y-yes!” Kazuha gasps, eyes struggling to stay open to watch her own reflection getting fucked, “I love fucking your cock so - God - damn - much!”

You lose yourself over to her, over to the addictive feeling of her intense, wet cunt clenching around you. You double your efforts - intent on giving her the fucking she deserved, rewarding her hard work with the cock she craved so badly.

You can feel it, see the tell-tale signs of Kazuha’s fast approaching orgasm, and know you’re following her closely behind. You read her body - read the slope of her back, the tensing of her muscles, and the tightening of her hot pussy around your cock

“Wait,” she says, stopping your frantic fucking, just as you were on the cusp of your climax. “Not like this - not yet. I want to see you - I want to watch you as you fuck me.”

You don’t respond, you don’t need to - you’re far more than willing to give her what she desired, sliding yourself out of her completely, groaning as your cock leaves the warm embrace of her pussy. You take a step back, giving Kazuha her space to move.

She’s so graceful, easily manoeuvring herself around you, flipping herself over and pressing her back up and against the mirror. She smooths her hair out of her face, deftly tying the long strands into a neat bun, making sure you can see her lovely face in its entirety, can see her warm, golden-brown pools looking up at you.

She returns her hand to the base of your cock, lightly wrapping her delicate fingers around your shaft, still slick and wet with her juices, and guides you forward into her welcoming entrance.

Kazuha keeps you locked in her passionate gaze, ensuring you see her desire, her lust, her affection for you - sharing with you the intimate moment when her eyes going wide and her pussy pulls your cock deep into her.

There’s nothing left to say, nothing left to do except take her by the hips and slowly resume your thrusts in and out of her - no words, only the sounds of your grunts harmonising with her moans, mixed with the clapping of skin to skin as you bury yourself within her over and over again.

You find your pace once more, both of you easily falling back into the throes of your passionate fucking. You know you’re not going to last long like this - you were already on the edge before, and you have no reason to hold back now, especially with Kazuha writhing around in pleasure beneath you.

“This feels so right,” Kazuha sighs, groaning out the last word as you plunge back into her pussy. “Just like that… Make me feel it baby - give me what I need…”

You remain mesmerised by Kazuha’s face as you fuck her - her cheeks a vibrant red, her brows furrowed, her eyes half lidded, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip - captivated in seeing the girl you love so much lost in the feeling of your cock filling her whole. Small moans escape past her lips - breathless, airy gasps - as she fights to maintain control of her own body, but ultimately fails to stem the intense pleasure coursing through every fibre of her being.

“Yes, baby!” Her lip escapes the hold of her teeth, and her mouth opens into a wide ‘o’, exhaling a long, pleasant moan. “I’m so close - just - need - to - !”

Her thighs close in on either side of you, pulling your hips into her with the strength of her legs, forcing you into a violent thrust deep inside her pussy. She lets out a cry of pleasure as your cock sinks into her, and all of a sudden, all at once, her entire body tenses around you.

Hands turn into vices, thighs crush into your sides, heels lock behind you, and her walls - her pussy - smothers your cock, suffocating your length in its warmth, drowning it in a waterfall of her juices.

“So - so - so - SO - GOOD!” Kazuha’s voice bounces off the walls, to the point that all you feel, all you see, and all you hear is her - the stunning, perfect angel turned into a slave to her own ecstasy. She clenches her eyes shut, giving up the losing battle and lets her orgasm overcome her completely, giving herself over to her pleasure, to every quiver and shake and tremble of her body around your cock.

You can spend an eternity watching her like this, can’t possibly imagine anything you’d rather be doing, but your own self-control is quickly unravelling, and the divine feeling of her slick warmth wrapped around your cock has you dead set on a collision course with your own climax.

It’s then that Kazuha’s eyes flitter open and you’re met with the heat of her lustful gaze, needing you, begging you to join her in her bliss. She loosens her legs around you and shifts herself upwards so she’s seated upright, meeting you at eye-level, locking her gaze with yours while giving you ample room to find your orgasm in her hot, tight body.

“Make love to me, baby,” she whispers, her low, husky, tone pleasantly vibrating through your eardrums. “Look me in the eyes and make love to me like this.”

You wordlessly obey her, answering her pleas with long, slow thrusts, relishing every inch of her walls, so hot around your length, letting her heavenly body swallow your cock whole. She responds in kind, her mouth ajar, unable to stop her deep moans from escaping her each time you fill her with your cock.

You savour her - how her entire body tenses and heaves with each thrust, how her small breasts bounce in time with your pumps, how her stiff nipples flick up and down in tandem, how her abs so tight and well-muscled clench and flex in anticipation of your hips meeting.

“Inside me - please,” Kazuha says, her whispers becoming begs, “I’m yours - my body - my pussy - all yours - baby!”

There’s nothing else you can do but hold on - grip into Kazuha’s perfect hips, dig your fingers into her juicy ass - let the feeling of being inside her overtake you as you give her exactly what she wanted - what she craved. Warmth, softness, wetness is all you know, surrounding your pulsating cock as it fires stream after stream of your thick, creamy load into Kazuha’s hot cunt, filling her needy pussy to the brim.

She holds herself tight against you, stiff, bare nipples pressed flush against your chest, nails clawing hungrily at your back, lips whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You’re barely conscious of the fact that you’re still thrusting into her, caught under the spell of Kazuha’s walls clenching and squeezing around your shaft, milking you for every last drop of cum you have in you, making sure that she is made whole.

You let the moment meet its natural end, slowing your motions, bringing yourself to a stop inside her, until the two of you are nothing more than two entwined lovers, bathed in the warm afterglow of sex. You start to pull back, to untangle yourself from her, but she holds you tight, keeping you against her.

“Baby,” she whispers into your ear, “just a little longer. Let me feel like this for just a little longer.”

You echo the sentiment, letting your forehead rest against hers, breathing in her air, filling your lungs with her exhalations of satisfaction, the two of you simply content to remain in each other’s arms. Time passes, time that you’re both well aware you don’t have, but there was next to nothing that could take you out of this moment regardless.

“That was…” Kazuha is the first to break the silence, relaxing her grip from your neck, her palms finding your cheeks, cradling your face in her hands, stroking your jawline with her thumb.

“Yeah,” is all you can really muster in response, both lacking the words and not needing them to describe the thing you share.

You capture her lips, kissing her, feeling their cushiony softness against your own, before parting just as quickly as you began, knowing that it would be improper to take up even more of her time. She’s reluctant to let you go, even as you slide out of her, backing away and freeing your cock from the clutching grasp of her pussy.

You can’t stop the mix of your cum and her juices that follows after your exit, streaming out from her formerly cock-stuffed opening and down the thighs that you loved so much, landing in a pool on the counter between her legs.

“You should go,” you say, regretting the words as soon as they leave our mouth.

“But I -”

“I’ve taken up too much of your time already,” you say, “they’re probably all waiting.”

You step back from her, giving her the appropriate room and taking her by the hand to help her to her feet.

With stunning efficiency, she clothes herself, first picking up her skirt and zipping it back over her cum-drenched thighs, smoothening out the creases. Her blouse returns in a similar fashion, easily buttoned back up and tucked into her skirt, followed by her tie, quickly knotted and fastened in place around her neck.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that she had just come off the stage, a theory that would be supported by how out of breath she was.

You pick up her discarded panties from the ground, offering the cotton pair, damp and stained from the build up to your fucking, back to her to complete her outfit.

“Hold onto them for me,” she says, now properly prepared to face whatever waited for her on the outside. She turns away from you, but stops just before making her way for the door. “Do you think they’ll notice?”

Your eyes follow down her body, past the hem of her skirt, to spot the unmistakeable glaze of cum lining the inside of her thigh. You look back up at her with a raised eyebrow. “They just might.”

She laughs at that, a pretty sound reserved only for you. “Maybe it could pass for sweat? Or a trick of the light? Or maybe they’ll just have to wonder who owns this newly debuted idol’s pussy.”

She relishes your stunned silence at her filthy proposition, and before you even have time to blink, she steals a chaste kiss from your lips.

“Wish me luck?”

“Go get 'em, Kazuha.”

NURSE ft. Yeji

yeji x male reader smut

6k words

“God, you’re so hot!”

“You too, babe”

“No, I mean you have a fever, dummy.”

“A fever for your loving.”

“You do know you’re going to have to stay in bed all day?”

“I bet I am.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Achoo!”

You can see the mental debate taking place behind Yeji’s eyes as she weighs the pros and cons of hitting you - a perfectly sculpted eyebrow twitches, her cupid’s bow lips purse, and her nostrils flair in frustration, stretching out the cute freckle on the tip of her nose.

Instead, she decides to give up on you and your cheesy lines, and leaves your bedroom with an exasperated sigh, returning to her busywork around your apartment - preparing soup in your pressure cooker, taking care of your laundry, and cleaning the mess you’ve accumulated over the past few days.

If you had known that being sick meant getting spoilt by your girlfriend like this, you may have been inclined to fall ill more often.

“I really hate you sometimes,” you hear Yeji mutter from outside your door.

“Love you too!” You call out back to her from the comfort of your bed. You don’t catch her response, only hear her grumbling about something, followed by the sound of your washing machine’s lid being slammed shut.

“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you!” She says, her voice trailing off as she moves through your apartment and to your kitchen. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me you were sick! How were you even planning to take care of yourself?”

“They do delivery here…”

“I know. I saw the fried chicken boxes. This is why you get sick so easily!”

After several minutes of cleaning, cooking, and passive-aggressive vacuuming, Yeji storms back into your bedroom, an assortment of pills in one hand, a mug in the other. She takes a seat on the side of your bed and thrusts the items in your face.

“Swallow this, drink this.”

You do as instructed, swallowing down the medicine, and drinking down the strange-tasting, warm liquid. You open your mouth wide to show her your empty tongue, to which she replies with a satisfied nod. “What would I do without you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Keep pushing your luck and maybe you’ll find out.”

You gasp in mock horror at the prospect, an act that finally manages to get Yeji to smile for the first time since she came into your apartment and discovered you sick. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” Yeji threatens. “I leave you alone for one week! You message me acting like everything’s fine the entire time and I come home to see you like this.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, somewhat fruitlessly trying to reason with your girlfriend. Admittedly it’s when she’s all flustered and frustrated that you find her the cutest.

Something about the way she puffs out her cheeks when she gets mad.

“It’s just a cold.”

“Fever.” Yeji corrects you, emphasising her point by feeling your forehead with the back of her hand.

You reach for her, stroking her forearm apologetically. “I am sorry, Yeji. I just didn’t want to make you worry.”

Yeji softens at that - no matter how mad she ever gets at you, she never finds it difficult to forgive. “If you’re really sorry, you’ll be a good boyfriend and rest so you can quickly get better and we can actually spend time together.”

“Well,” you start, “you know what would really make me feel better.”

“I swear if this is another line or a dirty joke - ”

“I was going to say a kiss - but I like where your mind is at,” you say, and this time Yeji does hit you, albeit playfully and on your shoulder. “I mean - this is very close to one of my top ten fantasies.”

“Isn’t the whole sexy nurse thing a bit cliché? Why don’t you just be happy to have your beautiful girlfriend taking care of you?”

“They’re clichés for a reason,” you say, using your eyes to gesture down to your waist.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Yeji’s eyes follow down your body, to the unmistakeable tent forming underneath the blanket that was currently draped over you. “Really?”

“Don’t act all innocent! It’s not my fault that having my beautiful girlfriend taking care of me is such a turn on!” You retort, “Besides, we both know why you really came over - before you found out I was sick.”

Yeji’s eyes go wide at that, and you see the Light Fury resemblance so often joked about. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Yeji.”

“What?”

“Yoga pants, Yeji.” You stare at the skin-tight fabric clinging to her lower body - the very first thing you noticed about her when she came barging into your apartment. The leggings left little to the imagination, and knowing Yeji they were clearly worn with calculated purpose - chosen specifically to emphasise her long, toned legs, and to show off her ridiculously firm, supple ass.

Most distinctively though, was how snugly it fit over her mound, detailing the exact outline of lips you were more than familiar with. Yeji follows your eyes and sees we’re your looking, immediately blushes and shyly crossing her legs over one another to hide the all-too-obvious camel toe.

“You were practically begging me to notice.”

“I came here straight from dance practice!” Yeji insists.

“And the top?”

“I don’t know what you’re -”

You reach for the strap of her tank-top, pulling it to the side to reveal a bare shoulder - with nothing underneath. “One would think you’d need some sort of support when dancing.”

Yeji stops you, grabbing the strap from your hand and returning it to her shoulder. “Fine. You got me. You win. Happy?”

Nothing can hold back the grin that creeps onto your face. “Yeji. My extremely hot girlfriend came over to have sex with me. You bet I’m fucking happy.”

Yeji takes you by the hand, and somewhat bashfully, she says, “I came over to take care of you.”

Yeji slowly looks up to meet your eyes, and suddenly you feel the temperature in the room start to rise. Like a switch, you see something in Yeji change, her expression shifting from cute and shy to something closer to hunger. You know it well, you’re all too familiar with the duality of your girlfriend - cute, bubbly, caring on one side - seductive, charismatic, sexy on the other.

“And I intend to do so,” Yeji says softly, her voice cutting through the sudden tension in the air.

It’s the way she looks at you that’s intoxicating - those damn eyes like no other - and her lips - tinged a subtle pink, with just a hint of gloss that makes her look so kissable. She runs a tongue over her lips, melting you, mesmerising you, and she leans down and presses her lips gently down onto yours.

It’s a short, quick taste, but filled with heat, and Yeji leaves her face hovering over yours after it’s ended.

“Yeji, you don’t have to - ” You don’t get to finish your sentence, the words are stolen from your mouth, as Yeji throws the blanket off your body and sends her hand diving into your sweatpants to take hold of your cock with her soft, delicate fingers.

“Well I have been discovered… Might as well follow through with my devious master plan,” Yeji says in a husky whisper. You can only reply with a groan, as her fingers wrap around your cock, straining itself, flexing impatiently against her grip.

You start to sit up, an involuntary reaction to the sudden stimulation, but Yeji places a hand on your chest and pushes you back down to the bed.

“You caught me red-handed, honey. So lie back and relax,” Yeji chides, pinning you down flat on the mattress with surprising strength. Your mouth opens to answer, but no words come out, only a raspy moan as Yeji’s hand begins to move around you, easily stirring your cock to a full, throbbing hardness. “How about we cross this fantasy off your list?”

She watches you intently with her fox-like eyes, looking down on you with glee, drinking in your strained reactions to her slow, methodical stroking of your cock.

She can’t cover your entire length within the restrictions of your sweatpants, but she still takes care to vary her grip with each pump of your cock into her hand - tightening her grasp each time she reaches the hilt, and relaxing her hold as she makes her way back to your tip - each time sending sweet, agonising tingles running up your spine.

“That’s right - be a good patient now. Let the sexy nurse take care of you.”

Your hips buck against her hand, desperately stretching out the cotton of your pants, needing freedom, needing more from her. Yet Yeji doesn’t seem to care, applying even more pressure to her hand on your chest, reasserting her control over you, tightening her hold around your cock and squeezing you into submission.

“Calm down, honey,” Yeji says, leaning back down to take your lips once more.

It’s now that you get your first real taste of Yeji - fresh strawberry-scented hair, sweet candy-flavoured lips. She moans into your mouth, like a secret passcode that causes your lips to part and allow her tongue to enter, finding its dance partner within. Her hand never stops moving around you, up and down, up and down - a slow, purposeful motion in time with the presses of her lips against yours and the clashing of your tongues.

Her hand slides up your cock as her lips leave your own and you can’t help the groan that follows when your kiss ends, nor can you help your tongue desperately chasing after her. Yeji laughs to herself, once again pushing you back down to your bed, keeping you in your rightful place.

A stray strand of saliva hangs from the corner of her mouth, but it’s quickly scooped up by her tongue as she licks her lips, covering it in a new, glossy sheen.

“Now, why don’t you tell me where it hurts?” Yeji asks, and your eyes immediately flick down to your now throbbing erection. “Oh, that does look painful, doesn’t it? Luckily I know how to make you feel all better.”

Yeji bends forward and slides down your body, allowing you, for the briefest moment, to catch a glimpse of cleavage hidden underneath. She stops at your waist, parting your legs so she can take her place on all fours between them, sitting back on her heels and reaching for your hips, digging her fingers into the elastic waistband of you sweatpants.

Yeji lifts her gaze to meet yours, eyes alight with mischief and her lips upturned into a wide grin, as if reacting to a joke that only she was privy to. Knowing she has you watching her, she closes her eyes, moves in close to your crotch, and presses her nose to the swell of your cock beneath your sweatpants.

And then she inhales.

She breathes in your cock, like an addict in withdrawal getting their first fix, savouring the feeling of being so close to her one true vice.

She spends several tormenting moments like that, ignoring your futile efforts to flex your cock against the stretch of cotton, trying to feel the warmth of her lips. Eventually, thankfully, she lifts her head slightly and in one, clean motion, yanks your sweatpants down your hips and sends your cock springing forth with such force that it slaps against her lovely, pink lips.

“Oh!” Yeji yelps as the tip of your cock, already leaking in anticipation, brushes across her lips. “I should’ve been more honest from the start…”

It’s already too much, just her hot breaths against your tip has you mentally screaming for more, and it’s with sweet, torturous relief that her lips finally meet your cock in a gentle, loving kiss. The brief and sudden contact shoots a jolt of electricity through your nerve endings, and the pleasure continues as Yeji holds your cock steady with her right hand and leaves a trail of kisses down the length of your shaft.

She takes care to cover as much ground as she can, kissing all around your shaft, down to the underside, and over and around both your balls. She keeps kissing, never letting her lips linger for too long, until she stops at the base of your cock. It’s then that she lets her tongue slip out of her mouth to explore the hilt of your cock, before slowly dragging it all the way up the length of your shaft. You grit your teeth as her pink tongue makes the long journey up your shaft to meet the small ridge beneath the head of your cock, where she marks her territory with her saliva, tracing around the circumference of your length.

“This taste,” Yeji says to herself as she runs the very tip of her tongue over the slit of your head, lapping up the pre-cum waiting for her. Her tongue withdraws back into her mouth and she swallows, humming in pleasure as she tastes your arousal, before breathing out a satisfied “ahhh!”

Above all else - Yeji loves to put on a show for you. She gets pleasure from driving you wild, yet you don’t get to revel in the theatrics of seeing her so taken with the flavour of your cock. You don’t even get to think about anything other than the feeling of Yeji’s soft, wet lips sealing themselves around your length, taking your shaft inch by inch into the warmth of her mouth.

Getting such relief never felt this good, and you chance reaching down for her, needing to grab onto something - anything - threading your fingers through her fawn-coloured hair, taking a gentle hold of her head as you try to last through the distinct pleasure of your cock disappearing into the idol’s mouth.

Yeji inhales you in, pressing her tongue flat against your cock, bathing your length with her saliva, as she steadily takes more and more of you past her lips. It’s with a gasp that you feel her lips meet the base of your cock, kissing against your crotch, pressing her nose just beneath your navel, and while she doesn’t choke, let alone gag, she does let her throat clench around you in a manner so excruciatingly good, you can’t help but cry out - “Yeji!”

The sound of her name is like a cue for her, and she pulls back from you, drawing her head up and letting your shaft slip slowly out of her mouth and past the clutching hold of her lips with an audible ’pop’.

Yeji looks up at you, still smiling wide, her beautiful face still in near-perfect order - save for the drool leaking from her lips and onto your tip, and the small trace of moisture welling up in the corner of her eyes. For someone that loved to get so messy with your cock, she never let it get in the way of the perfection that was her face.

She takes a beat to nuzzle her cheek into the palm of your hand, before once again taking your cock back into the pillowy embrace of her lips. She pulls you into her with a slow pace, building up a steady rhythm of bobs up and down your cock, giving you time to savour both the sight and feeling of having an idol take you in and out of her warm, wet mouth.

Her hands join in the fray - she only takes your length a quarter of the way into her mouth, allowing her right hand to wrap around the base of your cock, giving short, twisting strokes around the hilt, matching the timing and movements of her lips. Her left hand reaches beneath you, cradling your balls in the palm of her hand, massaging the pair with her fingers - making sure that all your cock knows is Yeji.

Seconds, minutes, hours - you have all the time in the world for Yeji and her expert mouth, as she continues to work your shaft, taking care to swirl her tongue over and around the head of your cock each time she reaches the tip with her lips.

It’s the combination of it all that makes it all so sublime - her hands working on your shaft and your balls, her tongue lathering your cockhead in its wetness, her lips suctioning tight around you and swallowing you whole down her clenching throat. It wasn’t just that Yeji was skilled at oral sex, she was skilled specifically at giving you oral sex, knowing your weak spots, knowing how best use her fingers, her mouth, her eyes - it’s impossible to imagine anyone matching her in the specific art of making you feel good.

You close your eyes, trying your best to remember to breathe as Yeji’s hands leave your cock and move to your thighs, gripping into your legs as she lowers her face onto you, and reintroduces your cock to the back of her throat. She deepthroats you with intent, sliding you smoothly down her throat, noisily slurping you into her, leaving a mess around your crotch as she bathes your cock in her spit and slobber.

You’re incredibly unprepared - left to groan as she starts to fuck her own face with your cock, diving her mouth up and down on to you, barely letting your tip brush against her lips before plunging it back deep down her throat, trapping you in a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

You can feel yourself, the familiar build of anticipation from your core, the build-up of release, and you know that Yeji’s mouth has you at the very precipice of your orgasm.

“Yeji, it’s too -” Your voice comes out hoarse and weak, the first actual words you’ve managed to form since Yeji started throating your cock, and it’s then that Yeji decides to give you some respite, withdrawing her lips from you with a particularly harsh suck, and letting your glistening shaft spring free from her mouth.

The air is forced from your lungs as your cock is left twitching helplessly in the open and under Yeji’s watchful eyes. She roughly takes your cock into her hands, squeezing it in a chokehold, holding your shaft still and stopping you from cumming far sooner than she desired.

Satisfied that your orgasm has been avoided, Yeji tests you with a chaste kiss right on your tip, giggling to herself as your cock reflexively spasms in response.

“Not yet,” she says in a soft voice, gently placing more dainty, light kisses down your shaft, dipping her head lower and lower, low enough so she can press her lips against your balls with a firm kiss.

Her hand still remains on your cock, moving slowly, pumping up and down your shaft, testing your resolve and your self-control, watching as you helplessly lie there and let her have her way with you.

“Seems like you’re feeling better already,” Yeji smirks to herself, leaving your cock with a light kiss on its tip and a cursory squeeze around its base. “So it’s only fair if you help me feel better too.”

Yeji kisses her way along your balls and to the base of your cock, and then takes hold of the hem of your t-shirt, lifting it up so she can kiss into your abs. She rolls your shirt higher and higher as she moves upwards, making the most of your body while she has you still - kissing right up the centre of your chest, taking a slight detour to playfully sink her teeth into your nipple, to licking the ridge of your collarbone, before raising your arms above your head so she could throw off the unneeded item of clothing.

She takes hold of both your wrists while she has you, and while even in your current state it would be so easy to overpower the athletic idol, you know better than to get in Yeji’s way when she’s like this. Most times she played passive in the bedroom, more than happy to be led around - to be used, to be pleasured, to be fucked - but there were times when nothing could make her more aroused than getting to be the one on top.

She licks up the side of your neck, tracing a path up to the edge of your jawline and down to your chin, before moving to your lips to claim them as her own. She holds you down with the weight of her body - her legs straddling on either side of your waist, her hands keeping your arms pinned above your head, and her lips crushing against yours in a needy, hungry kiss, invading your mouth with her tongue. Your kiss becomes another stage for her to wrestle control over you, and you submit to her, letting her freely explore your mouth with her tongue.

It’s now that Yeji begins to grind herself against your cock, backing her ass down low enough to run the length of your shaft between the lips of her pussy, separated only by the sheer fabric of her tight, black leggings. Her moans mix with your own forced groans as her hips rotate around and back and forth against you. Even through her yoga pants you can feel her wetness, can feel her warm juices soaking through the cotton and dripping onto your cock.

Yeji breaks your kiss to whisper into your ear, “God, I missed this.”

“No Gods,” you manage to grunt out, finding your own voice despite the motions of her hips against you, “just me.”

Yeji bites your earlobe in response and grinds her hips harder against your cock, pressing her folds down against you, letting you feel the full heat of her pussy on you. “Tell me, t-tell me how much you like this. Tell me how much you want this - how much you want me.”

“Yeji,” you gasp, “I fucking need you.”

“Good.”

Yeji lifts herself off you, letting go of her hold on your wrists and raising herself up on her knees, stretching herself above you, purposefully putting her perfect, tight, fit body on display for you. Her hips hover so tantalisingly close over your cock, and from your vantage point you can see the mould of her swollen folds through her pants and the patch of wetness that has pooled around her crotch and run down her thighs. Her tank-top is crumpled and in slight disarray - the straps are down to her shoulders, yet the top is still kept upright by the stiffness of her nipples poking out through the fabric.

She rolls a hairband off her wrist, reaching behind her head to tie her hair into a neat ponytail. “Ready?”

You nod.

Yeji wastes no time - she digs her fingers into the crotch of her pants and rips apart the fabric on either side, tearing open a hole and freeing her wet, slick pussy. She takes a hold of your cock, aiming it with well-practiced precision at her entrance, and slides her hips down, sinking you inside her tightness and filling her pussy with you.

“Fuuuuuck yes!” Yeji sighs, hands at the back of her head, elbows pointed upwards, back arched and chest pushed out, her whole body relishing in the feeling of having you inside of her.

You instinctively react by reaching out for her, needing to hold onto her tight body, to maybe even rip the thin tank-top from her chest and claim a nipple with your lips, but Yeji is far too quick, falling back forward and capturing your wrists again, pinning you down against the mattress beneath her.

“No,” she says, “don’t move. I told you - let me take care of you.”

You know what she really means, what she really wants - to use you, but if using you means lying back and witnessing the embodiment of sex that is your girlfriend fuck herself on your cock, then you’re all too willing to let her have her way.

At least, for now.

Yeji closes her eyes, satisfied that she has you in place, and bites her lip as she begins to move atop you, devoting each and every muscle in her tight, dancer’s body to fucking herself with your hard cock, rolling her hips up and down you in practiced, deliberate movements.

She rides you at the pace suited best for her, making the most of your every inch entering and exiting her pussy, taking time to grind herself against your waist each time your hips meet, rolling forward and leaving her shuddering with pleasure. She’s so, so wet around you, you can feel the warm residue from her cunt coating your entire length, can hear the squish of her folds as her pussy moulds herself around you, stretching to accommodate your girth with each upstroke.

“God - gah - you feel -” Yeji moans, searching for the words that best describe just how good you’re making her feel, eventually landing on, “so fucking big inside of me!”

You do your best to outlast her, gritting your teeth, trying hard not to lose yourself in the flexing of her walls around you, the hot wetness pooling around your base, and the lovely sounds of your name as they slip from her pretty lips and into your ears.

Yeji giggles at the pained expression on your face, at your efforts to tame your own arousal, and decides to lay a challenge on you, letting go of your wrists and stretching back upright so that she can unceremoniously lift the tank-top over her head and toss it beside the bed.

You immediately drink in the sight of her small chest - perfectly bite-size and round, capped with cute, stiff tips that makes you think of caramel candies, begging to be sampled and tasted.

“You like how I take care of you, don’t you, honey?” Yeji asks. “Like how I ride you? Like how I fuck myself so hard onto your big, fucking cock?”

Your attention is torn away from her chest as Yeji adjusts her position, moving from her knees to her feet, crouching low and grabbing hold of your shoulders, bracing herself and giving herself enough leverage to unexpectedly, quickly, slam her hips down on you, taking you into her at a sudden, rapid pace.

“Yes!” Yeji cries out as the tempo of your fucking shifts into full gear, taking you in and out of her as fast as she is able, now fully abandoning the idea of ‘taking care of you’ and unashamedly using every inch of your cock for her pleasure.

It’s pure art - watching Yeji’s tight body bounce up and down on your cock is hypnotic - each thrust into her needy pussy makes her every muscle tense, her walls clench, sends her nipples flickering up and down, entrancing you with their tiny heft. Yeji takes your wrist, pulling you towards her chest, placing her hand over yours and pressing your palm into her right breast, squeezing your fingers into the soft flesh.

You take her left breast with your other hand, indulging in the feeling of her nipples between your fingertips, loving the squeals of delight you can elicit from Yeji’s open mouth with each pinch of sensitive skin.

You lose track of the minutes that pass as Yeji fucks you at a fierce, intense speed, lose yourself in the feeling of her body on top of you, her ass slapping down against your cock with each hard thrust, her gasps and moans filling your ears.

“Oh god - oh god - yes - as hard as you - ” Yeji’s words barely make sense, each moan and sigh abandoned just as quickly as another one overtakes her. “Please - yes - I missed this, needed this - fuh - fuck!”

You know what she wants - know what she needs - and you take advantage of her momentary lapse in composure, wrapping your arms against her lower-back and pulling her down to you, pressing her body flat against yours. She lets you take her, to hold her tightly against you, giving over control of the fucking to you.

You quickly find your rhythm, pumping in and out of Yeji’s sopping wet cunt, using her meek mewls and moans into your ear as a guide to perfect the timing of your thrusts.

Her walls hug you tight as you impale her with your cock, pistoning in and out of her, mercilessly slamming your hips against hers. The bed starts to squeak under you in protest to your fucking, joining in with Yeji’s cries of ecstasy.

You want to freeze this moment in time, want to fuck her like this forever - to feel her ever increasing tightness around your cock, to hear the melody of her gasps and moans, to have her so close to you - stiff nipples pressed against your chest, hot lips against your skin, warm body-heat at your fingertips.

“Honey - ho - ney - fuh - fuck - fuck me!” Yeji’s cries reverberate through your eardrums, her body uncontrollably shaking and quivering in your arms as you do your best to fuck out of her the orgasm she so desperately desired. “Yes! Make me - make me - fucking - ah!”

Yeji’s orgasm takes both of you by the surprise, arriving like a bolt of lightning, causing her entire body to tense and making her pussy tighten deliciously around you. It’s almost far, far too much for you, driving you close to the brink of your own bliss, her pussy pulsating and squeezing around you, doing its best to pump out the cum Yeji so badly wants to be filled with.

But instead you hold her still against you, letting her tight, lithe body quiver and tremble in your arms, sinking the entirety of your cock into her and feeling the powerful vibration of her orgasm throughout her body.

The filthy whispers from her mouth continue the entire time she rides out her orgasm onto you, soon rendering her so breathless that she buries her lips into your neck, breathing unintelligible noises of pleasure into your skin.

You give her the time to collect herself, letting her body rest against yours as her hold on you weakens - the strength in her limbs give out and she goes limp in your arms. Several minutes filled with nothing but panting breaths go by - her pussy sporadically twitches and quivers around your cock, still buried deep inside of her.

You kiss her forehead, tasting the saltiness of the sweat that now covers her flushed face - so hot that you would think she’s the one with the fever.

Soon, her breathing stabilises, and she makes the effort to lazily kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear, “use me.”

Her words are all you need, and slowly, you shift your hips downwards, sliding Yeji far enough up the length of your cock, priming yourself for the perfect angle to drive your cock right back inside her with a firm thrust.

“Ummmph!” Yeji moans into your neck as you resume fucking her in earnest.

It had taken all your self-control to hold back from joining her before - her pussy far too hot, far too wet. But now all that wetness, all that heat, just made her pussy even more perfect - easily sliding you in and out of her, allowing you to fuck her with strong, hard strokes.

You can feel the hard thumping of her heart against your chest as you recklessly thrust in and out of her, not giving her a chance to adjust, chasing after the pleasure promised by her hot, tight body.

“Yes, honey,” Yeji moans into your ear, “use me - use my body to feel better.”

You find the perfect angle to fuck Yeji, ensuring every thrust maximises the depths you could reach inside her hot, clenching pussy. You’re purely focused on your own pleasure, roughly fucking upwards into her tight, hard body - overindulging in her pussy the same way she had wildly fucked herself on your cock before.

Still, despite your lack of care for her comfort or her pleasure, she still moans, still cries out your name, still pleads for more.

“Fuck me,” is the only thing Yeji can think to say now, the only words able to be formed from her lust-addled brain, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

It’s those words, the whining of your bed-frame, and the sounds of your hips meeting and your cock pumping into her slick, hot pussy that echo through your bedroom as you find yourself hurtling towards your own orgasm.

Yeji completely gives herself over to you, lets her body be freely fucked, gives you her cunt to be driven in and out of as hard and fast as you can possibly manage. It’s impossible to last any longer frantically fucking Yeji’s perfect body like this - she tightens and pulses around you, trembles in your grasp, and you can do nothing but keep thrusting.

“Yeji, I’m gonna - ”

“Cum?”

“Yes! Where - ”

Yeji springs to life - she breaks out of your grasps and slides off your cock and back down to your waist. Barely a second passes between your shaft slipping out of her pussy and her lips sealing around the head of your cock, trading the pleasure of one warm hole for another.

Your hands follow her, helpless to do much else but grab locks of silky hair as Yeji takes hold of your cock and begins fiercely stroking your length up and down and into her mouth. Her cheeks hollow as her lips suck you in hard, her hands twist and pump at an unbearably rapid pace, and her tongue swirls around the tip of your cock, as she dedicates herself to milking you dry.

And then Yeji’s eyes snap upwards, pinning you with her gaze - needing you to cum, begging you to let go and give yourself over to the pleasure of her.

She overwhelms you - forcing a strained, deep groan out of your throat as your cock pulses in her tight grasp and the first ropes of thick, hot cum fires into the back of Yeji’s warm, welcoming mouth. Each shot is answered with a low, lustful moan around your shaft, causing her lips to vibrate against your tip, adding to the overload of sensation stemming from your cock and flowing through your body.

Yeji keeps stroking you, keeps squeezing you through the dying embers of your orgasm, her throat flexing and swallowing down each successive shot of warm, white semen.

Not a single drop goes to waste - nothing slips past the tight seal of her lips - and through it all you can feel her tongue lapping up against your slit, licking up all the cum you have to offer.

Yeji doesn’t let up, keeping your cock in the grasp of her lips and her hands until you start to go soft in her mouth and your shaft slips out past the suction of her lips on its own. When she’s finally done, Yeji smacks her lips in satisfaction and performatively opens her mouth wide, rolling out her tongue to show her empty mouth, having hungrily swallowed down all your cum.

“Was that everything you fantasied?” Yeji asks, licking her lips, savouring the lingering taste of you in her mouth.

“Fuck,” is all you say, only now being able to catch your breath and find your voice. “If that won’t cure me, I don’t know what will.”

Yeji smiles at that, giving the exposed tip of your cock a final kiss before resting her head against your thigh. She lazily runs her fingers over your softening cock, all the while staring lovingly up at you. A thought seems to occur to her, as her eyebrows raise, and her lips open slightly, as if she’s about to say something important.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Yeji replies. “Just…”

You look down at your girlfriend, attempting to analyse the mysterious expression on her face, watching as her face furrows in deep concentration and her mouth opens to say -

“Achoo!”

ROMEO ft. Yuna

yuna x male reader smut

15k words

“Well, that fucking sucked.”

Tonight was supposed to be special. Right now you should be enjoying a candlelit dinner with your girlfriend of exactly one hundred days - eating overpriced food, drinking wine that’s older than you are, and ending your night in the hotel suite you’ve risked personal bankruptcy to afford.

But instead here you are - dressed in your nicest, second-hand suit and holding a crumpled bouquet of flowers, walking along the cold streets of Seoul - alone.

The cold, rainy streets of Seoul.

“Oh, fuck off!” You yell, earning stares from the other pedestrians doing their best to avoid the crazy young man shouting at the sky.

You’ve had many, many lows before - but this was brand fucking new.

“Looking good, Romeo!”

But of course, there’s always room to fall even lower.

Your shoulders slump as you instantly recognise the voice, hearing the mocking nickname you’ve been given for being anything but a Romeo.

Well Romeo did die at the end.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to end up like him.

You turn, nearly blinded at the sight of the ungodly expensive and ridiculously gaudy car that has pulled up on the sidewalk next to you. Tinted glass rolls down, and leaning over the passenger seat and sticking her head out of the window is your closest friend - who also happens to be the very last person you want to see at the moment - Shin Yuna.

She gives you a wide, toothy grin and a thumbs up.

You give her the finger.

“Don’t be like that!” Yuna calls out from the car. “Get in - it’s raining!”

You pretend you don’t hear her, choosing instead to keep your eyes straight ahead and continue your trudge through the rain. Normally you would have time for her, probably fire back some snappy comeback and trade insults like usual, but not today - today is a day for some good old self-loathing.

You grimace to yourself as you hear the engine of her car start back up again, and you do your best to pay no attention to the vehicle crawling slowly next to the sidewalk, keeping at pace with you, and drawing even more unwanted stares.

Of course, Yuna wouldn’t care.

Throughout the entire time you’ve known her, all the way from when she was just a dorky trainee to having grown up to be a full-fledged idol, she’s remained the exact same person - the sweet, goofy, girl-next-door whose favourite hobby seems to be torturing her best friend.

“Roooomeooooo,” she sings out the window, “get in the caaar, Roooomeoooo.”

You attempt to hide your face behind your crumpled bouquet of flowers, even though if there’s anyone that should be trying to remain incognito, it should be her.

Still, it does little to stop her from following you even further down the street. It doesn’t even stop her from honking at you.

“Shhhh!” You finally turn to her, and you’re annoyed to see how delighted she is at the small victory. “People are looking. You really want someone to get a photo of you stalking a guy in the middle of the night?”

“I knew you could hear me, Romeo!” Yuna laughs back, in her sweet, ’everything is awesome’ tone of voice. “What do you mean? If anything, they’ll get a photo of me helping out a poor, sad, charity case. It’s great for my reputation!”

“You’re insane, you know that?” You ask her, though judging by the expression on her face, she takes it as a compliment. “Also, since when do you drive?”

“Got my license today! Fifth time’s the charm!” Yuna boasts, clearly unaware that it’s not something she should be proud of. “And I wanted to go out for a spin in this brand-new car, and I saw you! How lucky is that?”

“Yeah, real lucky.” You roll your eyes, concluding that Yuna must have finally found an examiner she could bribe.

“Hop in! I want you to be my first official passenger!”

“And last,” you reply, deadpan.

“Come on, you’re going to get drenched if you stay out here any longer. Then you’re going to get sick, and then I’m going to have to be the one that takes care of you,” she says. “Get. In.”

You’ve never managed to win when it came to Yuna’s whims, and you already know that if it came to it, she’d follow you around all night until you caved. You take one last look at the crumpled bouquet of flowers, the remnants of your ‘Greatest Date Ever’ plans, and dump them all in a nearby trash can.

With a heavy sigh, you give in - like you always did - to Yuna, leaving the cold, rainy streets for the warmth of her luxury vehicle.

“Here,” Yuna says, handing you a box of tissues as you climb into her car. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll charge you a cleaning fee after this ride.”

“How nice of you,” you reply, taking out a heap of tissues in a futile attempt to dry yourself.

“It’s all part of my great service! A free ride and getting to be in the presence of such a beauty like me - you really are a lucky guy!”

Yuna doesn’t even wait for you to close the door before she takes off, slamming the pedal to the floor and accelerating the car into a racing start. You buckle your seatbelt as fast as you can, hoping the thin strap can save you from Yuna’s complete disregard for speed limits.

“Didn’t you say you had big date plans? Or are you going to tell me all about how Romeo got his heart broken again?” She asks, spending a little too much time looking at you and not enough time looking at the road. “What happened with - what was her name again?”

“Let’s not get into this, Yuna,” you say, knowing full well that she’s already not listening to you. “Please, just focus on driving.”

“Misoo? No that was the one that dumped you on your birthday. Mirae? No that was Christmas.” You groan as Yuna keeps talking - rattling off names and surfacing more painful memories to your mind. “It was something like Narae, Nahye?”

“Nahee,” you say, hoping to end the conversation and be put out of your misery.

“Yeah. Nahee. That bitch.” Her face scrunches up as she says the name, as if the syllables alone have a disgusting taste. You hadn’t even thought she was capable of speaking with the amount of venom in her voice that she uses to say your now-ex’s name.

For someone you think you know so well, she still surprises you from time to time.

“So what went wrong - did she find out about your tiny dick?”

Well, not all the time.

“I’m going to take your silence as confirmation that like always - I’m right!”

“Like you would know if you even saw one, Yuna,” you shoot back.

“I guess you’re right, I couldn’t possibly be as knowledgeable as you, the certified Professor of Penises.”

“God, I’m gonna throw myself out of this car.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be nice.” Yuna clears her throat, composes herself, and puts on her best fake, saccharine voice. “Please, my dearest friend, tell me what happened so I may help you feel better?”

You test the handle of the passenger-side door, only to realise that she must have activated the child-lock in advance. You sigh dramatically, knowing that for at least the next twenty minutes, Yuna has you trapped.

Judging by the way the car is swerving across multiple lanes, you come to terms with the fact that this may very well be the last car ride you ever take, so you might as well humour her.

“What always happens. She said she didn’t trust me. We were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary and she said she wasn’t sure we had a future.”

Yuna laughs. “I could have told you that.”

“We only just started university and she’s worried about a future,” you say incredulously, the wounds still raw from being dumped mere hours ago.

“I told you from the start - I know a snake when I see one - and I always got bad vibes from her. But, still…” Yuna says, before turning her gaze to you, squinting her eyes as if she was inspecting you through a microscope. “This is like the third girl in a row that doesn’t trust you? What are you doing that’s so… Skeevy?”

“Please pay attention to the road, Yuna!” You shout, your heartbeat suddenly starting to race as the car starts to veer into the next lane over.

“Oh, right!” Yuna replies, swerving the car back into the centre of the road, barely caring about the fact that she nearly killed the two of you. “Now, answer the question - what is it about my best friend that makes him so untrustworthy to women?”

You take a deep breath, both needing to collect yourself from having avoided a near death experience and preparing yourself for what you’re about to say. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“What I do to give these girls trust issues,” you say, looking at your friend’s face as she tries to think over all the different possibilities, running down the mental list of your flaws that you know she keeps.

“Have you been cheating on all these girls and not telling me?” Yuna shouts, and you jump in your seat. “I swear if you turn out to be some fuck-boy-scumbag I will drive this car into the nearest river and kill you myself!”

“Yuna!” You shout back at her.

“What?”

“It's you.”

“Wh - what?”

“None of these girls trust me because of you.”

Once again, you’re almost thrown out of your seat as Yuna slams her foot down hard on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden stop.

She turns to you, a look of such confusion on her face that in any other situation would be utterly hilarious. Well, it still kind of is.

“What do you mean?” Yuna says, ignoring the cars that start to blast their horn behind her, jeering at the two of you as they recklessly swing around you to overtake. “We're just -”

“Yeah - friends - I tell them that,” you say. “It always goes the exact same way - they meet you, they’re excited because you’re an idol and all, and then after a while they all get jealous. They see you’ve called me, or messaged me, and they just flip out!”

“But, but - I - I don’t - ” Yuna’s face starts to turn red, for once in her life actually lost for words.

“Congratulations, Yuna, you are the biggest cockblock in my life.”

Yuna digests your words, trying to think of something to say, only coming up with, “but I haven’t even done anything! I mean - we’ve never done anything even a little romantic!”

“That’s what I said! I told her I don’t have feelings for you, and even if I did - you’re an idol.”

“What does that mean?” Yuna asks.

“You know what I mean, Yuna. It would never happen,” you say, with an air of finality in your voice. You can’t pretend you’ve never thought about it before, can’t pretend you’ve never noticed how long her legs are, or how soft her lips look, or how even in the darkness of the car, the streetlights cut through the window and strikes her eyes at just the right angle that she looks - fuck.

“That's…” Yuna’s voice trails off, but chooses to let her words go unsaid, and instead lets an awkward silence fill the car in its place. The tension in the air is exacerbated by how alien it is to the two of you - this was why you were such good friends; things were never awkward. There was always a joke to be made, or a careless insult to be thrown, but never this - never this strange feeling like you may have actually hurt her somehow.

It’s why you were so reluctant to get into the car in the first place. It was only a matter of time before you two talked about this - this subject the two of you have never broached, the elephant in the room you had always danced around but never spoke of, and for good reason too. You’re both young, attractive, and you know each other better than anyone else in the world. But what good would it do to ruin the one positive relationship in your life?

Yuna turns away from you, and you feel like you’ve let something vital slip through your fingers. But too much time passes for you to pick up on that strand of the conversation, and the silence is far too surmountable to get over, and before you can even muster the courage to say something, Yuna starts the car again and resumes the drive.

“You can drop me off here, I can catch the next train home,” you say, desperate to get out of the silence that has fallen over the two of you.

“Don’t be silly, we’re almost at my dorm,” Yuna replies matter-of-factly. “Besides, I’m not going to let you be alone right after you got dumped. Tradition’s tradition.”

You’re reminded of all the other times over your friendship when you’d been dumped and Yuna was there for you - to laugh with you, to talk you through your emotions, to make you feel like everything was going to be okay. And after spending time with her, it always was.

The rest of the short trip to her building is uneventful and eerily quiet, and Yuna seems to be deep in thought for the remainder of the drive, even right up until you ride up the elevator and arrive at the dormitory itself.

“The other girls are all out this weekend,” Yuna explains, carelessly swinging open the door to an extremely spacious and luxurious apartment. She nonchalantly kicks her shoes off her feet, sending the pair flying somewhere into the living room, and confidently strides inside like she was the sole resident. “So, we have it all to ourselves!”

You hesitate behind her at the doorway - it’s not like you haven’t been to her dorm before - you’re a known entity to the other ITZY members. You’re familiar to them, and they’ve always been more than happy to have you around, seeing as you’re the one thing that can always put a smile on their maknae’s face. But yet this time, somehow, being alone with her in the apartment feels different.

“What that also means,” Yuna says, ignoring you and turning a corner into the kitchen, “is that we have access to all of Ryujin’s soju!”

You hear her rummaging around her fridge and sifting through the kitchen pantries, before she pops out again to catch you still waiting at the door.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go drink this in my bedroom,” Yuna says, somehow managing to balance multiple bottles of soju and bundles of snacks all in her skinny arms.

Again, you pause - if you were any other guy and Yuna was any other girl, it would be a no-brainer. Especially when you take into account the shortness of her skirt, or the way her sweater’s cut off specifically to show off her tight, flat abs and - you stop yourself, reminding yourself that it’s Yuna you’re fantasising about, and that the only reason you’re doing so is because of how pent up you’ve been in the lead up to your anniversary date with your girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.

Yes, that is the reason. Certainly not Yuna’s legs.

You shove those thoughts into the back of your mind, asking your friend - “are you sure?”

Yuna sighs and pouts - a single, undeniably cute expression that makes you doubt everything you just rationalised to yourself. “Don’t make this weird. Forget about what we talked about in the car and drink with me.”

“Yuna -” you start to say, but she cuts you off.

“We’re going to talk about that bitch one last time so you never have to think about her ever again, and then we’ll spend the rest of the night discussing how you have literally zero game. As is tradition,” Yuna finishes. “Now, stop standing there like an idiot and be a proper gentleman and help me out.”

You have to hand it to Yuna, she always knew the right things to say to get her way, and you dutifully follow her orders, taking the bundle of goodies out of her hands and walking behind her to her shared bedroom.

Her bedroom is just as spacious and luxurious as the rest of the apartment, and is packed full with clothes, gifts, souvenirs and mementos - all strewn around the room with little care for any logical sense of order. But still, the bedroom is still big enough to fit two queen-sized beds on either side, and has enough space cleared in the centre of the room for the two of you to sit and gorge yourselves on alcohol and junk food.

“This will work!” Yuna says, retrieving a folded-up table and bringing into the bedroom. She carries it to the centre of the room, and with her back turned you she bends forward to set up the table, making you suddenly aware of just how short her skirt is. You try to convince yourself that you’re only interested in the chequered pattern, and not the fact that as it rises higher and higher, you’re treated to more than just a glimpse of creamy, vanilla-white thighs and the lace of… is that her panties?

She couldn’t be doing this on purpose could she?

“Thanks for your help,” Yuna says sarcastically, her head turning around just in time to catch you standing there like a fool, obviously gawking. You brace yourself for whatever jab she has prepared, knowing that catching you red-handed was far too good an opportunity for her to pass.

To your surprise, she doesn’t say a thing, instead she sits down on the carpet next to the table and stretches herself out on the ground, making herself far too comfortable for your liking. Long, gorgeously slim legs reach out across the floor, and as she stretches her arms above her head, her sweater - her cropped-off, midriff-exposing sweater - rides up higher on her chest, revealing a hint of a black sports bra underneath.

You follow the trail with your eyes, all the way from her legs, up her flat, toned stomach and higher still until you reach her eyes - watching you, dancing with delight at having you caught dead to rights.

But again, she ignores it.

“Sit! Open up a bottle - let’s drink!” Yuna instructs, enjoying bossing you around.

It’s hard not to be suspicious of her now, and you keep a careful eye on her as you take off your jacket and take a seat on the ground across from her, placing two shot glasses on the table between you, and filling both of them with peach-flavoured soju.

Yuna snatches up the shot glass before you’re even done pouring, lifting it in a toast - “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” you reply, with just a tad less enthusiasm as Yuna.

“Ding dong, the bitch is gone!”

And the night goes on as it always does - you play bastardised forms of drinking games to suit two people, you slip into your usual topics of conversation - she blabs about her company, her members, drops pieces of gossip about idols that you have absolutely no business hearing about, but the secrets are far too juicy for her to keep to herself.

Talking to her is so easy - Yuna is so separated from the rest of your life, just as you are to hers, that you can open up and tell each other everything and anything and know that you’re free from judgment - save for a few bits of shit-talk here and there.

“God, you really are corny!” Yuna says. “Candlelit dinner, fancy restaurant, wine, hotel suite - what are you, forty?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Seriously, no wonder she dumped your ass. This,” Yuna says, waving her shot glass in front of your face, “is all I need for a good night out.”

“Well, unfortunately not everyone is as cheap of a date as you,” you sigh, before gulping down your third shot for the night. “Why do I get the feeling that you enjoy seeing me miserable?”

“Because I do!” Yuna replies, a little too gleefully in the face of your misery. “I don’t get to go on dates, so I have to live vicariously through somebody.”

“You dated that trainee,” you point out.

“Yes, I held hands with one guy before you punched him in the face because you thought he made me cry.”

“He did make you cry.”

“It took months to convince other guys that they could even talk to me after that!”

“Good,” you say, puffing out your chest with pride.

“Whatever!” Yuna declares, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Only, she forgets about the half-full shot glass still in her hand, throwing soju up in the air and spilling liquor right on her sweater. “Ah! I just bought this!”

Yuna pulls on her sweater, fruitlessly trying to dab out the soju from her top, eventually giving up and deciding to remove the sweatshirt entirely. She raises her arms to pull up her sweater, stretching up high and lifting to once again give you a picture-perfect view of the tightness of her stomach, the ridges of her abs, and her impossibly small waist. She catches her shirt underneath as she pulls off her top, and for the briefest of seconds she flashes you her two small, round, perfect handfuls of black bra-clad breasts.

“Like what you see?” Yuna’s voice snaps you out of the spell cast by her body, as the sweater is tossed across the room, leaving her in just a cut-off shirt. “I know, it’s hard to be around someone that looks this good.”

“As if,” you scoff, fumbling for your words, “I swear your ego has gotten out of control ever since you debuted.”

“It can’t help it - I am the visual.”

“I guess they were going for someone more relatable then.”

“Oh really? Should I just keep pretending that I haven’t caught you checking me out - what is it - three times now?” Yuna asks, shuffling uncomfortably close to you, close enough that you catch the scent of roses in her hair. As if that wasn’t enough, she even dares to place a hand on your knee. That was new. “Doesn’t being next to such a beautiful idol like me make your heart race?”

You swallow, ignoring the fact that she has you nailed to a T - trying your best to ignore the thumping of your own heartbeat rattling through your eardrums. “Not even a little bit.”

Yuna shifts her weight onto her arm, leaning even closer to you, closing the gap between your two bodies - so close that you can’t look anywhere but at her. She looks up at you with her wide, brown eyes, intoxicating you far more than any shot of soju could. “How about now?”

You decide to up the ante - needing to launch an offense of your own, placing your hand over hers, and inching your own face close enough to hers that her exhales become your inhales. “You’ve forgotten, I’ve been here before, Yuna. But have you - Miss Never-Been-On-A-Date?”

Yuna’s eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment it feels like her lips have a magnetic pull on your own - they just look so irresistible. And then you see it, the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flash of her eyes down to your lips, and you lean into her just a touch closer so that you can -

“Got you,” she whispers, claiming her victory in this game of chicken.

“Fuck!” You cry out, instantly recoiling, as if you had just been hit, leaving Yuna to collapse to the floor in a fit of laughter. God, you were never going to live this down.

“S- sorry, but that was cute - you really were going to kiss me there, weren’t you?” Yuna struggles to say through her ceaseless laughter.

“Not funny, Yuna,” you try to growl, but obviously failing the impossible task of looking intimidating while your face was beet-red with embarrassment. You reach for the closest bottle to you, not caring to pour it into a glass, guzzling it all straight down your throat.

“Hah-hah, you think I’m hot!” Yuna teases, and you know you’re seconds away from Yuna getting up to do a victory dance.

“Well done, Yuna - I actually forgot about Nahee for a second.”

Yuna snaps her gaze back up to you, her mood suddenly swinging as if you had just slapped her across the face with the mention of your ex’s name. The temperature in the room sharply drops, and Yuna doesn’t attempt to hide the bitterness in her voice as she says, “you really had to ruin my fun by mentioning her. I haven’t seen you get this torn up over a girl before. You must have really liked that bitch.”

You sigh, staring into your now empty bottle. “It’s not like that - she was… Nice. For the most part.”

“I don’t understand why you settle for these girls,” Yuna says disdainfully. “Every single time it ends exactly the same - and I have to listen to you bitch and moan when you were clearly too good for them in the first place.”

“Yuna,” you say softly.

“No, you really do deserve better than letting yourself get treated like this,” Yuna continues her rant. “A guy like you, who actually cares and listens, and is funny and smart and… It’s just. You deserve - ”

“Yuna?”

“Forget it. I bet this isn’t how you planned your night to go anyway, right?”

“Well,” you say, “right about now I would probably be in that fancy hotel room.”

“Cheesy,” Yuna interrupts.

“You wouldn’t get it! I planned this whole thing - tonight was going to be a big deal. I was really hoping to - ”

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” Yuna asks, somewhat offended.

“You’re an idol, isn’t that being the same as a nun?”

“"I am not a nun.”

“Oh, so do you have some secret sex life that I don’t know about?” You ask, only to be met with silence. “Thought so.”

“Just because I’ve never done any stuff doesn’t make me some virgin-Mary whatever-the-fuck!”

“Sure, sure.”

“Not everyone is as much of a man-whore as you,” Yuna fires back.

“Hey - better than whatever cobwebs you have between your legs,” you reply.

“I do stuff… And I’ll have you know that it is perfectly fine,” Yuna says, before dropping her voice to a whisper, “down there.”

“You’d be more believable if you weren’t so afraid to call your pussy a pussy, Yuna,” you say, laughing at her.

Yuna grumbles something under her breath, clearly having enough of your jabs, and swallows down another shot before slamming the glass onto the table. With a huff, she stands up, striding over to her closet and scouring through the mountains of clothes and shoes piled up within.

When she’s found what she’s looking for, Yuna stomps back over to you, and dumps a shoebox at your feet.

“Look,” Yuna says, standing over you to watch you open the box to see the contents inside. Of the few things you knew Yuna hid from you, you would have never included a single silicone dildo, and a small, silver, bullet-shaped vibrator, on that list. “See.”

“Lia’s sex toys?”

“Mine, idiot.”

“Ah, that must be why they look brand new. Need someone to show you how to use them?”

“Fuck you,” Yuna growls, bending down to pick up the dildo, waving it dangerously close to your face. “You’re just jealous because you’re probably smaller than this.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Pfft,” Yuna replies. “As. If.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the lack of fucks you have to give after having been rejected once already tonight, or maybe it was the fact that you were so close to kissing her moments ago, but you decide to take Yuna’s challenge and raise the stakes. “Yuna - you couldn’t even handle what I’m packing.”

Yuna pauses, and your words hang in the air between the two of you, suspended right over that uncrossed line you have never dared to tread, and that is very close to being permanently broken. She takes one look at the dildo in her hand and one look down at your crotch, doing some form of mental calculation to find the truth in your statement. “Prove it, then.”

“Fuck it,” you say, deciding to end, once and for all, the game you’ve been playing the whole night. You take one last pull from your bottle, tossing it aside when you’re done, and stand up to meet Yuna.

Yuna stares so hard at your crotch that she could burn a hole through your clothes, watching with rapt attention as you pop open the button and unzip your pants, pulling down the waistband of your briefs and letting your clothing fall to the floor, setting your cock free.

“You wanna measure them side-by-side?” You say, amused as you display your cock for her, your length rendering her lost for words.

Yuna gulps, seemingly unable to unglue her eyes at your cock. “I- is that all?”

You take a hold of your cock, and start to slowly stroke yourself, watching Yuna’s face the whole time. Her mouth is frozen open and slack jawed, and you imagine what it would be like for your cock to be between her lips. You can see the shimmer of saliva building up in the corners of her mouth as you bring yourself to your full erection, and it’s when you let go of your cock, proudly presenting it in its full hardness, that Yuna lets the dildo slip out of her fingers, leaving it to clatter on the ground.

Yuna’s eyes dart between the fallen dildo and your cock, now able to accurately compare the two with a disbelieving stare, unable to hide the expression of shock on her face as she takes in the full measure of your length.

“This is the first cock you’ve ever seen in person - isn’t it, Yuna?” You ask. “Is it everything you imagined?”

Yuna manages to somewhat collect herself, snapping her jaw shut, even now finding it difficult to accept that you were right. “No, I’m just… Surprised! You've never radiated big dick energy.”

You smirk to yourself at finally managing to make Yuna eat her words. But now there are more important things to address - now that she has you pants down and fully exposed, it’s time to even the odds. “Your turn, Yuna.”

“W-what?”

“If you really do use those toys as much as you say - show me. Prove it,” you say, throwing her words back at her and gesturing towards the vibrator laying in the shoebox. You can see the thoughts racing through her mind, fighting a battle between lust and rationality, and you give her a helpful nudge by asking, “or are you chicken?”

“No,” Yuna says firmly, finding her resolve. “You want a show? I'll give you a show.”

Yuna bends down and reaches into the shoebox, retrieving the vibrator and moving towards the bed. She wastes no time - unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to her ankles, and then crawling onto the bed, barely giving you a chance to fully appreciate her cute, lacy, cotton, white panties, and to admire the way the fabric stretches over her plump, full ass.

She takes the pillows from the head of the bed and props them up against the wall, creating a makeshift backrest for herself. She turns around, leaning back into the pillows and stretches her legs out, dragging her panties down her long limbs, and then kicking them off her feet.

“You,” Yuna says, addressing you as she spreads her legs apart, her knees pointing outwards and forming a 'V’ shape, giving you a full, unguarded view of her bare, pink, juicy pussy. “Watch.”

You kick off your own briefs and pants, and stand there awestruck, as Yuna switches on the silver bullet vibrator and brings it down between her legs. Yuna starts carefully, inhaling sharply at the first touch of the toy to her body, slowly dragging it along the bottom of her slit, coating it in the juices beginning to leak from her pussy. She then draws the toy all the way up her folds, finally resting the vibrating device against her slick, ripe clit.

“Yes,” Yuna hisses softly as she starts to gently rotate the toy around her clit. She falls into a natural position, sinking slightly down into the bed, her legs parting further apart and giving you an even better view of her, as she stirs her own arousal with careful, practiced movements.

You’re completely hypnotised by her - by how effortlessly erotic she is, watching as she grinds the toy against her clit, seeing her in a way you’ve never even imagined - her eyes half open, teeth biting into her bottom lip, and her hips gyrating back-and-forth, as if she was fucking some phantom cock in time with the movements of the vibrator.

It’s truly a sight to behold as her pussy gets wetter and wetter with every circle of the vibrator around her clit, each pass slightly faster than the one before. Soon her heavy breaths turn into restrained moans, blending in with the low buzz of the toy vibrating against her mound, and it’s after one particularly loud moan that her eyes flitter open, and her gaze locks onto yours, settling on you with a fierce, predatory smile.

“I - ah - told you so,” Yuna says, relishing in the wired look on your face as you shamelessly stare at her, watching her fuck herself. You follow her eyes to your cock, seeing her smile expand into a wide grin as she drinks in the sight of your throbbing hardness. “Oh - mmph - is that for me?”

“Yeah,” you say, not even attempting a denial, because frankly, it was true. “It is for you, Yuna. I didn’t know you could look this fucking hot.”

You let your baser instincts take over your mind, giving yourself over to that part of your brain that wants nothing more than to be in the moment with the scorching hot girl playing with her pussy in front of you, making herself aroused for your pleasure.

Yuna’s eyes go even wider when you return your hand to your shaft and start to stroke your entire length from base to tip, pumping your cock in rhythm with the circles she draws around her stiff clit.

The two of you stay locked in an intense performance for each other, duelling with heated gazes and exasperated moans, with pumps of your cock and swirls of around her clit. It lasts until Yuna decides to push even further, and as if she was taunting you, she presses a button on her vibrator, causing it to whir even faster.

She moans again - the loudest yet - as she ups the pace of the toy against her mound. You stroke yourself harder in response, squeezing around your shaft while you pump yourself faster, matching her speed and refusing to fall behind her in this lustful battle of self-pleasure.

Again, Yuna pushes onward, and keeping her eyes on you, she uses her free hand to unbutton the top half of her top, showing off more of her creamy, porcelain-white skin, and exposing the top of her collarbone.

Another button goes undone, this time showing you the dip of cleavage you had only caught glimpses of before, and then another, and another, until the top half of her shirt is wide open, and you see her black sports bra, before its quickly yanked down to free her breasts.

It’s no surprise at all at how perfect her breasts are - two bountiful handfuls, wonderfully perky and round, treating you to a slight bounce as they’re freed from their clothed prison. It’s torturous, how close they are to you - you could reach for them right now - you could pin her to the bed and take her breasts between your lips and seize them into your hands. But Yuna reads your thoughts, taking her right breast for herself, pinching her nipples, and treating you to an elated sigh as she plays with her own chest.

“You like this - ooh - don’t you?” Yuna asks, struggling to keep her eyes open while she watches you stroke yourself. “Look at you, so God - ah - damn hard, just from watching me play with myself. God your cock looks so good.”

Her words barely register with you, just the sweet sound of her voice in her ears is enough. With Yuna right in front of you, pussy in full display, your mind is flooded with thoughts of what it would be like to hold her against you, to feel her lips on yours, to run your hands over her body - to take a hold of her slim waist and bury your cock in the warmth of her glistening, wet pussy.

You’re so enraptured by the view of her wonderful pussy that you fail to notice the vibrator slip from Yuna’s fingers and onto the bed, as she slowly flips herself over and gets on all fours. Like in some sort of trance, she crawls over to the edge of the bed and towards you, her mouth hanging open, tongue licking her lips.

She attracts you towards her with her eyes alone - you step forward to meet her at the bed, letting go of your cock so she can see it in its entirety. You watch her as she studies your cock, lustful curiosity getting the better of her - not that you even care, you’re more than eager to find out what she’ll do next.

“I - I - ” she pants. Yuna’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of her exhalations against the tip of your cock - it would only take a small push of your hips forward and you would be between her lips. “Can I - ?”

“Yes,” you say, not even caring to hear the end of her request, more than happy to give her the approval to do whatever she wanted with you, as long as it involves your cock. She reaches out for you, and shatters the already tattered boundaries of your friendship, grasping your shaft and wrapping her delicate fingers around your length.

“It’s so -” Yuna shuffles further across the bed, teetering on its edge, sidling up even closer to properly inspect your cock. She treats your length like some precious artefact to be examined, using her eyes to fully take measure of its size and shape. “So big.”

“Ah!” You groan as her grip around you suddenly tightens, painfully squeezing on your cock like a stress ball. Her mouth stays open, eyes alight with wonder as you achingly twitch and throb in her hand.

She continues her experiments with your length - gripping you far too hard, roughly pulling down on your shaft far too fast - seemingly forgetting that it was an extension of you.

“Yuna!” You cry out, grabbing a hold of her wrist and stopping her callous stroking, managing to pull her attention away from your cock. “Is that how you always do it?”

Yuna eyes snap up from your cock to your face, her expression heated and her brows furrowed, annoyed at the interruption. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not one of your toys, Yuna. You can’t treat it like that.”

“Are you really going to criticise me while my hands are on your cock?” Yuna asks, in total disbelief that you wouldn’t simply be grateful that she was even handling your cock in the first place. “You. A man.”

“You have to be gentle before you can be rough,” you say. “Anticipation, Yuna.”

“I can see why you get dumped so often,” Yuna says with a sigh. “I thought all guys liked it hard and fast?”

“Sure, but -” you start to try explain yourself, but eventually decide that sometimes, the best way to learn is not by saying, but by doing. “Yuna. Put your hands behind your back.”

“You’re really going to tell me what to do -”

You interrupt her, repeating yourself - “hands behind your back.”

It’s only for a moment, but you see a flash of mischief cross Yuna’s eyes as she contemplates defaulting to her usual habit of automatically dismissing any request you’ve ever made of her. But something in her expression changes, as she suppresses her need to rebel against your instructions, and instead she does as you say, letting go of your cock and holding her hands behind her back. She adjusts herself so she’s on her knees and sits back on the heels of her feet, and in this position Yuna waits for you.

You move closer to her, equally surprised at how obedient she is being, and thrilled at the prospect of having her so subservient to you. You place a hand on her chin, cupping her face, and run the pad of your thumb over her pretty lips, feeling their softness, knowing that in seconds those very lips would be wrapped around your cock.

Yuna leans into the palm of your hand, chocolate pools looking up at you expectantly, matching the same excitement you could feel pumping through your veins. You move your hand to the back of her head, threading your fingers through her silky midnight hair, and tenderly draw her closer to your cock.

You direct her. “Kiss it.”

Again, Yuna obeys, shifting around the bed so she’s flat on her stomach, and with her hands still behind her back lightly press her lips on the tip of your cock. It’s immediately electric, the gentlest touch sending shivers running up your spine, enough that you can feel the beginnings of your pre-cum begin to leak out from the tip.

Yuna sees it, kisses the tip again, spreading the drop of your arousal across her lips like gloss. She keeps kissing - light, dainty brushes down your shaft, puckering her lips more and quietly moaning each time she presses their pillowy softness against your length.

You help her, holding your cock with your free hand, keeping it still and upright to ensure she can cover the entire surface area of your shaft. Her hungry eyes remain transfixed on your face, fascinated with the way that she can make you shudder so easily with just her lips.

She does as she’s told and more, taking her time with her lips, and after properly, passionately, showering your shaft with kisses, she lands back on your tip, giving it a last, longing press. She waits again after she’s finished, in anticipation of your next instruction, her lips barely an inch away from your tip, a thin rope of saliva forming a translucent bridge connecting her to your cock.

“Tongue out,” you command next, and Yuna’s lips part, opening her mouth and extending her lovely, pink tongue.

You lay your cock flat on her tongue, testing her patience, pushing how far you can take this new dynamic in your relationship. She remains frozen still, statuesque, save for the trace amount of drool that starts to drip down the corners of her mouth.

“Lick,” you say, and Yuna eagerly drags her tongue upwards, licking the underside of your shaft and over the ridge that separates the head of your cock. It’s a simple motion, but it makes you weak at your knees, forcing your hand to tighten on the back of Yuna’s head, a gesture that does not go unnoticed by the idol.

She flicks her tongue along the slit of your tip, scooping up the glob of pre-cum that had leaked out, before manoeuvring around to the other side of your cock, lathering your length from the head right down to the base of your shaft.

Yuna doesn’t even need to try that hard - her tongue is long and wet and soft, and manages to stir strained groans and sighs of pleasure from you, using only simple, slow movements along every inch of you, leaving your cock covered in a sheen of her saliva.

Like with her kisses, Yuna takes her time, now understanding how the game is really played - just because she’s the one on her knees, hands behind her back, didn’t mean that she isn’t the one in control.

Realisation dawns on her dark chocolate eyes, studying you with a look so lustful, so erotic, that you have to remind yourself that it's Yuna that is on her knees before you, that it’s your best friend that is turning you on far more than you’ve ever been before.

It’s after a long, greedy lick of your cock that ends at your tip that you give her your next instruction - “now, use your - ”

But Yuna’s already ahead of you - she swirls her tongue around your head with such sudden immediacy that you nearly lose your footing, before sealing her lips around your cock and slowly taking an inch of you into her wet, hot mouth.

She can’t go much further - only a few inches at first - but she makes up for it with enthusiasm, sucking tightly around you as she begins to bob her head back and forth on your cock. She takes you into her lips again and again, occasionally mixing up her noisy slurps with swishes of her tongue around your head, gaging your every reaction to her lips and tongues to direct the motions of her sucking.

After several gratuitous slurps of your length, Yuna’s hands leave her back and joins the fray. She’s learnt her lesson - approaching you with tenderness, she wraps her fingers carefully around your shaft and strokes you along with her sucks on your cock.

“God,” you groan, your voice coming out far louder than you intended. Yuna smiles around your shaft, but rather than let her relish in how good she’s already making you feel, you push down on her head, urging more of your cock past her wet lips and into her hot mouth.

As much as you want to match your hips with her back-and-forth pace on your cock and thrust freely into her face, you give her the time to adapt to your length and your girth. While Yuna’s eager, she’s clearly inexperienced, and while in the past you’ve experienced truly skilful blowjobs, just the fact that it was Yuna - that it’s her hot, wet lips suctioned around your cock, that it’s her hands stroking you up and down - makes everything feel utterly surreal and so much more exciting.

You tenderly stroke her hair, keeping the stray strands out of her face as she lovingly familiarises herself with your length - even though you’re the one getting your cock sucked, this is about her exploring your shaft with her wonderful mouth. The fact that it feels so God damn incredible is just another amazing bonus.

You can feel herself challenging herself on your cock, every odd bob of her head down your shaft she dips further down, gurgling slightly around your cock, before backing off to resume her previous pace. Yet each time, with each pump of your cock in and out of her mouth, she’s able to take just a little bit more, extend the reach of her lips down your shaft that tiny distance farther, aided by the build of spit and slobber that now covers every inch of your length.

“Umm finnk mmmph mmph mmph!” Yuna sounds around your cock, unintelligible, muffled words vibrating around your shaft.

“What?” You ask, and Yuna gives you a sly, cute look, and she lifts her face off your cock with a loud smack of her lips.

“I said - I think I’m getting the hang of this!”

Her lips are already back on you as soon as the words have left Yuna’s mouth, her hands on your hips, bracing herself and diving back onto you, pushing her her head down on your cock and taking in the most of your length so far, stealing an involuntary cry of “fuck!” from you.

Yuna pauses as your cock meets the back of her throat, hitting her right in her gag reflex. She coughs against you but keeps still, feeling your pulsating length tickle the back of her mouth before she withdraws again, letting your cock pop out of her mouth with a satisfied ’ah’, punctuating her action with a generous swirl of her tongue, drawing around the circumference of your tip and eagerly licking up the dribbles of her saliva she had left behind.

“So much for a nun,” Yuna teases, catching her breath between more scant kisses on your shaft. She can see your face, can hear your own laboured breaths, but she still has to ask - “do you like the way I suck your cock? I bet you love getting to watch your very own idol give you a blowjob?”

It feels good - far too good, and you know that with how quick she’s learning, and with how eager and enthusiastic she is to have you in her mouth that it would be no time at all until she has you cumming down her throat.

She moves to take your cock back with her lips, but you hold her steady by the back of head and take her wrist with your other hand, stopping her stroking of your shaft.

Somewhere in the back of your mind - the childish, competitive part of your mind - you know you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of making you cum so soon, you don’t want to have her hold that over your head until the end of time, to throw it in your face in some future argument.

Not that you were even sure what would come next for your relationship - could you even be just friends with someone who was slurping down your cock?

Did you even want to be just friends?

“Hey!” Yuna gets your attention, pouting once again. “I wasn’t done yet! Are you afraid of cumming too soon?”

You grit your teeth, a lie already prepared. “Like a first timer could make me cum so easily. Let me show you how it’s done.”

“Oh, really?”

“Lie back.”

“What are you - ”

“Lie back, Yuna,” you repeat, this time with deliberate firmness.

Your change in tone flicks a switch inside Yuna, turning her docile once more, and she turns herself over, letting herself fall back into the bed with eager obedience.

Yuna stretches herself out backwards, reaching the wall with her fingertips, and lying her head on the set of stacked pillows. With her ass already on the edge of the mattress, she posts her legs on either side of her, reading your intentions and parting her thighs for you. “Show me what you got, Romeo.”

You’ve never seen her look so vulnerable before, purposefully laying herself bare and completely at your mercy - just for you. She’s naked, save for a half-buttoned shirt, doing little to hide anything at all - open far enough to expose her humble, perky breasts, and cut off high enough to show off her tight, skinny, little waist.

Nothing covers her from the waist down, however, and it’s between her legs that you take your position, falling to your knees in front of the bed, taking in an up-close view of her bare, cleanly shaven pussy. She’s already wet - her lips juicy and glistening, well-prepared from her earlier masturbation, and at the top of her mound her clit stands exposed and stiff with arousal.

Your eyes follow downwards, and you smirk at the way the generous cheeks of her ass squish into the mattress beneath her, and as much as you want to flip her over and bury your face between those gorgeous cheeks, you know that you have work to do.

Proving your point to Yuna means pleasing her entire body - beginning with the very tips of her meticulously manicured toes. She can’t see you from her position, and she shivers with surprise at your starting point, as you take her right foot - as flawless and blemish-free as the rest of her - into your hands.

“I knew you were a weirdo,” she murmurs, but you ignore her quip, carefully massaging the pads of your thumbs into the slope of her foot. You knead the ball of her foot with your fingers, and slowly raise her foot up higher as you bend down closer to her painted toes.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” you reply.

“As if - ah -” Yuna gasps as you kiss her first toe, and you smile to yourself as you feel it curl against your lips in response. You take care to give each digit its own kiss, and while Yuna is out of remarks as you reach the smallest of her toes, she does hold a breath as you lift her foot higher, giving you access to the sole, and allowing you to familiarise your tongue with its velvety texture.

You continue massaging and caressing her foot with your hands as you drag your tongue over the ball of her foot, up its arch, and towards her heel, indulging yourself in the soft, salty-sweetness of her skin.

You resist the urge to say ’I told you so’ when she lets out a whimper as your tongue leaves her foot. You return your lips to her ankle, however, kissing your way up the long runway that is her slender leg.

It’s much time spent, but no time wasted - how could it be wasted when your lips are pressed against her shin, or your tongue tickles underneath her knee, or you get your first, proper taste of her firm, muscled thighs.

Yuna’s legs are as long as they are lovely, and it takes time to give them the attention they deserve - to give the right amount of gentle coaxing that makes her mewl and moan and sets Yuna’s whole body on fire.

She adjusts her body as you make your way up her leg, trying to rush you through to the wet, pink treasure that lies at the end of your journey. But you take your time, ignoring her futile efforts to reach for the back of your head, desperately needing you to find her pussy with your tongue as soon as possible.

You plant kisses on her creamy-white thighs, and as if you entered some secret passcode with your lips, her thighs part even wider for you, giving you explicit access to her slick, inviting pussy.

Yuna sighs in relief as you move closer to her heat, and a pained moan escapes her lips as she feels your breath over her lips, only to be replaced with a whimper as you dodge her pussy and veer to her other thigh, latching on to her skin and tasting the dewy residue that lingers on her.

Kissing into the groove that separates her leg from her crotch puts you in range of her hands, and it’s with a harsh yank that you’re pulled by your hair back to her pussy.

Despite the momentary sting, you still grin when you see her face, as she lifts her neck up to lock eyes with you - eyes communicating need, lust, want - begging for more than what you’re giving her.

“Like I said,” you say, “anticipation.”

You stay there, breathing on her mound, watching Yuna’s face, emotions torn between doing what she swore to never do - admit you’re right - and needing her pussy to be eaten by you.

Yuna makes up her mind and looks down on you, eyes wide and alluring, lips pursed in a pout, and she begs - “please.”

The word is like a trigger, a simple request laden with sexual desire, leading you to breathe in her pussy, giving her a long, slow lick starting from the very bottom of her folds, and dragging your tongue up to the very tip of her clit, getting your first full, sweet taste of Yuna’s hot, wet cunt.

“Oh, oh fuck!” Yuna moans, thighs squeezing tighter against your ears, pulling your face closer into her trembling folds, while raising her hips higher to push more of herself against your tongue.

You resist her urging, determined to take her at your own pace, gracing her with slow, purposeful, long licks. You gather all the juices that had lined her folds on your tongue, tasting each nook and cranny of her beckoning pussy, enjoying the quiver of her thighs on either side of your head as you drink in Yuna.

Yuna moans and gasps with each lick, with each kiss against her sensitive flesh, and you revel in the opportunity to tease out each agonising sigh from her pretty, pink lips.

“More,” Yuna whispers in a hushed, desperate voice. “Please, I want it.”

“You need to say it, Yuna,” you say, far from done hearing Yuna say just how much she wanted you.

“I - I need it!” Yuna exclaims, “I need you to eat my pussy.”

She’s waited long enough, and you reward her accordingly - you snake a hand between her legs, carefully spreading apart her glossy pussy lips with your fingers, pulling back her hood and leaving her clit standing alone. You have intentionally been avoiding the centre of her arousal, but now you make it your sole focus, testing her with a light lick with just the tip of your tongue.

Yuna’s legs wrap around your shoulders, holding you in place, leaving you with nothing to do but satiate your appetite with her pussy, pressing your lips to her mound and sucking on her needy clit.

“God - ah - yes!” Yuna cries out, as her fingers claw at your hair and her ankles lock behind your neck. You fall face-first into her cunt, suctioning your lips around her, working at a steady pace on her pussy, giving her more generous licks with your tongue, passionately frenching her folds and drinking in the sweet, tangy nectar that dribbles into your mouth.

Yuna disappears into her own world - she moans and writhes and squirms and you need to take hold of her thighs to keep her steady while you suck harder and harder on her swollen clit. She responds in kind, fucking herself against your tongue, grinding her hips onto your face, suffocating you with her drenched, delicious heat.

With each lick Yuna gets louder and louder, her body gets hotter, and from your vantage point between her luscious thighs, you spy an expression of true bliss painted on her face, as she hurtles towards her orgasm.

Still, your job isn’t complete and in the corner of your eye you spot the gleam of the silver vibrator, previously discarded and nearly forgotten.

Unnoticed to Yuna, who’s far too busy basking in the sensations your tongue is making her feel, you reach over and take the toy. She doesn’t even hear its buzz when you switch it on, and it’s only when your lips loosen from her clit, and your tongue leaves to explore further south that Yuna finally opens her mouth in protest, whimpering, “no - FUCK!”

Yuna throws her head back into the pillows, holding onto handfuls of your hair for dear life as you press the vibrator up against her clit, keeping the buzzing toy steady while you plunder her needy, soaking wet hole with your tongue.

Time barely passes but it’s all too much and all too sudden, and she can’t even last another second before her hips involuntarily rise off the mattress and she loses complete control of her own body, a slave to the rapturous elation you’re making her feel.

“Th - that's it!” Yuna shouts, her voice bouncing off the walls until all you hear, all you taste, and all you know is her. "Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m actually - fuck - about to - FUCK!“

Yuna’s thighs close in on you, sandwiching your head in their warmth, trapping your face up against the heat of her sopping wet pussy. You ride out her orgasm with her, keeping the vibrator pressed flush against her clit, while maintaining the pace of your tongue on her hot, slick flesh.

She shakes against you, her hips convulsing and rocking against your lips, loosening a steady stream of warm, sweet juices that freely flow onto your waiting, lapping tongue.

Her grip loosens on your head, her fingers slipping out from your hair and her arms carelessly swing outwards. She loses herself in the throes of her orgasm - a pillow flies off the bed, sailing over your shoulder and hitting the table next to you, sending half-finished bottles of soju tumbling over and rolling onto the carpet, spilling out their contents onto the floor.

She barely cares, barely even registers the fact, still trembling and quivering upon you, trying to endure the remaining waves of pleasure crashing over her tight body.

A long minute of heavy breathing and quiet whimpers pass, and Yuna manages to somewhat recover, allowing her legs to slip off your shoulders, and rediscovering her own voice.

"I didn’t know,” Yuna gasps, trying to catch her own breath, her hips twitching against you, smearing her wetness all over your chin. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You chuckle to yourself, proud of your work, lifting your face from her pussy and licking off the juices that linger on your lips. You wipe the remainder off your chin with the back of your hand, taking a moment to examine its lustre, before licking that up as well, savouring the taste.

Yuna reaches for you, and you take her offered hand, helping yourself up to your feet and onto the bed with her. You crawl over her, posting your knees on either side of her thighs and your hands on either side of her shoulders.

You bring your face level with Yuna’s - despite the fact that she just came on your face, she still looks so innocent, so demure, so much like the Yuna you know. Her cheeks are a bright rosy red, whether from the aftermath of her orgasm or the alcohol, or just plain shyness, you can’t be sure, but it gives her an ethereal, other-worldly glow.

You want nothing more in the world than to kiss her, to take the lips that you realise you’ve spent years longing for - often fantasising about, but never imagining that they could actually be yours. You carefully brush a strand of hair from her face, leaning down and moving in to finally kiss her.

“Wait,” Yuna stops you, reaching up for your face with both hands, cradling your cheeks in her palms. “I - I want you to know that you’re my first.”

You absorb her words, appreciating her admission, appreciating her willingness to cut through all the games, all the silliness, all the safeguards the two of you have used to protect your relationship and make herself vulnerable for you. “Tell me what you want, Yuna.”

“I want you,” Yuna breathes the magical words into existence, and you can’t help but smile in response. “I want you to be my first. I've always wanted you.”

Everything - every mixed feeling of friendship, of love, of lust, every ounce of tension that exists in the space between the two of you and has grown over the past few years - it all culminates in a kiss - a slow, gentle, sweet kiss.

Hands become tangled in hair, bodies are pressed together, and you become intimately aware of how sweet and wonderful Yuna tastes. A moan into your mouth and your lips part, breathing her in, deepening your kiss and letting her tongue seek its partner within your own mouth.

It’s tender and loving and passionate, and it’s through your kiss, through the dance of your tongues that you say all the things that you’ve ever wished you had said to each other.

She holds your face in her hands, pulling you closer to her, while you run your own hand up her body, tracing the curve of her waist, stopping when you take hold of the hem of her shirt.

Her shirt and sports bra come off all at once - you carefully roll the clothing up and off her body, treating the reveal of her chest like some precious ceremony, needing to see more of her.

You break the kiss, avoiding her chasing lips to take in Yuna’s unencumbered chest. Without the clothing in the way, you can truly appreciate the perfect shape of her breasts - small, firm, and round, tipped with dark chocolate nipples, already raised and taut and ready for your lips.

You do what you’ve only been able to dream of before, diving in on her dark, dusky nipples, greedily taking the stiff bud atop her right breast between your hungry lips, while taking her left into the palm of your hand - massaging, pulling and pinching.

Kissing turns to licking turns to sucking, and soon Yuna’s gasping as you feast on her tight, needy nubs, tasting their pure deliciousness, committing the texture of Yuna’s nipple on your tongue to memory.

You submerge yourself in her chest, haphazardly marking your territory, sucking and squeezing and licking, swapping from breast to breast, filling your mouth with as much of her as you could, while Yuna writhes beneath you, moaning beautiful cries of pleasure into your ear with every swirl of your tongue and graze of your teeth.

You’re only stopped by Yuna bunching up your shirt into your hands and pushing you off her chest to hold you above her. Rather than make any effort with your buttons, Yuna simply rips your shirt apart, sending buttons sailing across the room.

It’s her time to show her own hunger, her own greed for your body, pulling you back down to her and attacking your own chest with her tongue and her lips, kissing into your body and marking you as you did her. As her teeth brush against your own nipple, you grasp her shoulders, separating her from you and pinning her down into the mattress below.

Frenzied, torrid eyes mirror one another, and you voice the words you had been waiting to say all night.

“Yuna,” you say, your voice raspy and low. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Do it,” Yuna breathes, her hot breath tickling against your cheek. “Just - please - be gentle, okay?”

“Whatever you want, however you want.” You lean down, pressing your lips to hers, sealing your promise to her with a kiss. “It’s all yours.”

“No,” Yuna whispers back, “I’m all yours.”

You kiss her again, throwing yourself back in immediately from where you left off, slipping your tongue back into her mouth and intertwining with hers. You help her take off your shirt, tossing it aside before you fall back into her waiting arms.

You manoeuvre around each other, naked bodies twisting into one, finding your way between her legs and positioning yourself between her thighs, resting your cock a hair’s breadth away from the hot, slick lips of her pussy.

You continue your kisses onto her cheek, down the curve of her jaw, finding your way to her ear to whisper your final instruction - “put it in.”

You wait for her, needing her to be the one to take the lead - she has to be the one to cross that final threshold and take your cock for her own.

Yuna grasps your shaft, and you gasp as she runs her hand down your length from tip to base, wrapping her fingers around you and giving you a long, slow pump, and aiming the head of your cock at her dripping entrance.

Your eyes remain on her face the whole time, watching as she closes her eyes and opens her mouth to release a breathless moan, pulling you into her, drawing you past her plump, wet, lips and into her waiting, juicy pussy.

Yuna is hot and wet and perfect, but most of all she is tight. As wet for you as she already is, even with your cock barely inside her, you know she is by far the tightest girl you’ve ever been with.

You need to take it agonisingly slow - need to feed her pussy every inch of your cock bit by bit, let her mould herself around your length, let her walls ripple and close around your shaft. Like with her mouth, Yuna adapts her pussy to you, generously lathering your cock with her juices, wrapping you in a silky embrace that’s so easy to sink into.

Yuna sets the pace, closing her legs behind you, squeezing her thighs against your hips, and drawing you in deeper and deeper inside her. With each additional inch Yuna’s whimpers rise in pitch, and it’s through your soft kisses into her neck that you let her know it’s okay for her to take her time.

It gives you the opportunity to relish every moment, to feel the intimacy of having her so close to you, wrapped around you and pressed against your body, to truly experience the divine depths of Yuna’s pussy.

Her whimpers in your ear soon turn into full, loud moans, and it’s when you finally, triumphantly, fully impale her on your cock that Yuna loses all sense of self and cries out your name - not your nickname, not Romeo, not an insult, not a taunt, but your name - and you swear you’ve never heard a sound more beautiful than your name leaving her lips.

Yuna’s eyes snap open and go wide - both from being so totally filled for the first time, and in surprise at herself that she let your name so shamelessly slip from her lips.

You lift your head up, releasing a breath you weren’t even aware you’ve been holding, and search for Yuna’s eyes, asking her, “you okay?”

She smiles up at you - a smile filled with affection, love, satisfaction - telling you all you need to know. “Yes… It - it feels good. I just didn’t expect it to feel this big inside me. I’ve thought about this so many times but I never thought it would feel like this.”

Yuna shifts her hips around you, sinking into the feeling of being so completely filled for the very first time, moaning softly as she grinds her hips against you, letting you know she’s ready for more.

“I'm better than okay,” Yuna whispers. “Please - keep going. Make love to me.”

You give her a small nod, carefully drawing your hips back, trying your best to withstand the feeling of her pussy desperately grasping onto you as you pull your cock out of her. You only take out a few inches at first before you push back into her, fucking her at slow, loving pace, letting her adjust to your length, letting her pussy get wetter and wetter, get more used to taking you to the hilt and having you fill her.

Yuna moans with each entry and gasps with each exit, her hips raise to meet you with each thrust, and you feel every squeeze, every clench of her tight walls around you, as you do your best to stretch her out around your thick girth. Every pump into her perfect body gets easier and easier, every stroke longer and deeper, and before long you’re fucking her to a steady beat.

The pleasure is almost mind-numbing - each thrust is better than the last, your only disappointment is that you can’t see your shaft disappear again and again into her incredible pussy. You’re both still so sensitive - Yuna from just having orgasmed, and you from spending the past hour on the edge of your own - and it allows you both to get rapidly drunk on the intoxicating sensation of fucking each other.

“It’s so good - God - so good!” Yuna gasps. “But you can - you can fuck me hard - ah!”

You slam your hips into her before she can finish her sentence, penetrating her completely and fucking her down and into the mattress. You try your best to reach the deepest parts of her pussy, only letting your cock slip out halfway before you drive back into her body with enough force that the bed starts to buckle and creak beneath you.

You don’t fuck her faster - not yet - you just maintain the steady rhythm of your hips crashing into her body again and again and again, drawing out a slew of words that you have never thought in your wildest dreams could possibly come out of Yuna’s lips.

“Oh - Oh God! That’s so fucking deep,” Yuna cries out. “Just like that - ah - stretch me out just like that - fuck!”

Her words spur you, driving you mad with lust and need for more of her body. You shift yourself up, letting go of her body and posting your hands on either side of her shoulders into a half push-up, giving you the perfect angle and leverage to fuck your cock down and into her.

Her whole body is rocked each time your hips meet - delighting you with the bounce of her small, perfectly round breasts, shaking with each thrust of your cock into her, and with the up and down flickering of her stiff, glistening nipples, still wet and marked with your saliva.

You reach up with your hand, squeezing her breasts, teasing her stiff nipples, pinching and groping at her chest, wantonly having your way with Yuna’s body.

“Fuck!” Yuna exclaims. “I’ve wanted this for so long. All those girls - those bitches - ”

Yuna grabs your face with her hands, turning your face to hers and making sure you’re looking in her eyes. She’s the perfect contradiction of filth and purity, beautiful features twisted in serene pleasure, unmatched visuals voicing the lewdest thoughts.

“They were right to be jealous of me,” Yuna declares. “Now fuck me faster - more - please!”

Your pace picks up - her pussy is wet enough, has covered your cock with enough of her juices that you can glide in and out of her with increasing ease. She settles into the rhythm of your fucking, encouraging you with her whimpers and moans and gasps, losing herself in the overwhelming sensations you’re making her feel.

Yuna’s movements beneath you grow wilder and unrestrained - she kisses into your neck, whispers sweet nothings into your ear, desperately roams your back with her hands. You’ve had your fair sure of partners before - partners who had wanted it rough, or who had wanted it hard or fast, or wanted nothing more than a quick orgasm - but with Yuna it's different. It’s at once filthy and loving, a true feeling of someone matching you on both a primal and intimate level, of being joined with someone, of experiencing every single ounce of pleasure your bodies had to offer each other.

It’s like her pussy was made for you, moulded specifically around your cock, built to drive you wild with it’s impossible tightness, blazing heat, and unending wetness.

“God… Oh God,” Yuna gasps in your ear, “oh God that feels so good! So God-damn good inside me!”

Her hands clasp behind your neck, snatching you up and pulling you down into her, burying her sweat-covered forehead into your neck and pressing her tight, heavenly body up against yours, desperately doing everything she can to have as much of you joined with her as possible.

“That - that feels so fucking good. I can - oh God - I can feel all of you. ”

Your pace builds and builds, and your hands feel for her - feel the curves of her waist, the ridges of her stomach, the softness of her breasts - and you kiss and lick at her neck, her cheek, her lips - receiving her sighs and moans as you devour Yuna with your hands and your tongue.

“As fast as you want - you can - fuck - you can do whatever you want with me.”

You do as she says, hooking your hands onto the back of her shoulders and thrusting up and into her without restraint. You do as you want, savouring her, leaving her no more room to adapt, only to experience, to quiver and tremble beneath you, to give herself over to you as you fuck her harder and harder, faster and faster, in and out and in and out of her incredibly tight, wet pussy.

Yuna flexes herself around you, tensing her muscles, squeezing around you as you penetrate her, making sure you feel the embrace of her slick walls around your cock as you fuck her with all the strength you have in your body.

“God - yes - fuck yes! I need - I want you so bad! I want your body - I want your cock.” Yuna’s words are no longer simple pleas, instead desperate demands, lustful desires that you’re more than happy to fulfil. “I want your cum - I want to make you cum - I’ve wanted it for so damn long.”

You can only muster grunts and groans in response, all your effort and mental focus devoted to the sole task of giving Yuna the fucking that she deserved.

“Why do you think I bought those toys? I fuck myself on that dildo thinking of you - but I should've known it doesn’t even come close to the real - ah - fucking - ah - thing!”

It’s her moans, mixed in with the slapping of skin to skin, and the sound of your cock bathing itself in the juices of her pussy that is enough to send you over the edge, to drive you to fuck her with every last bit of energy you have while you can still hold yourself back from your inevitable climax.

“I’m gonna -” Yuna tries to speak but can’t even finish her own words before they’re overtaken by her gasps and moans. You’re no better - you can only acknowledge her attempt with a grunt, drunk on the feeling of her arms and legs coiling around you tighter, her warm, wet walls clenching and her whole body giving itself over to your cock.

She’s so, so close - her back arches, her body possessed by her own pleasure, lifting itself up and pressing her nakedness against you. It’s then that she lets go, doing away with the idea of holding on for any longer - letting her oncoming orgasm wash over her, letting it rock her being and overwhelming her with pleasure - her face twisting in pained bliss, her body turning hot, and her pussy gushing around you.

“So good,” Yuna says, her breaths becoming moans becoming words, repeating over and over in a declaration of pleasure. “So good - so good - it’s - SO- FUCKING - GOOD!”

Her heels dig into your back, forcing you into a harsh thrust deep into her quivering, shaking cunt, and sending a shock of pleasure throughout your body that becomes far too much for even you to handle. It’s enough to push you to the brink, to pull you into joining her in bliss, and it’s one excruciatingly delightful squeeze of her walls around you that forces your own orgasm forth, drawing the first thick stream of hot cum straight into the depths of her pussy.

She pulses and tightens around you as you throb and spasm within her, matching her orgasm for orgasm - your cum lining the walls of her pussy as her juices continue to flow freely around your waist - your two bodies intensifying and magnifying the pleasure taken from each other.

Through the haze of your own orgasm you manage to glimpse the beautiful visage of Yuna lost in the throes of her pure ecstasy - her eyes shut, lost in a world of her own satisfaction, and her mouth frozen open - a soft, warm exhale where an endless moan used to be.

The two of you remain as one for several more glorious seconds, your every burst of semen into her answered by the trembles of her body around you, filling her to the brim with cum and cock, until finally, every drop of your cum and every drop of her juices is entirely expended, pooling in the very place where your two bodies meet.

Your cock stays buried inside her warmth as the last vestiges of your respective orgasms fade away, leaving the two of you breathless, naked and vulnerable in each other’s arms.

Eventually, you roll to your side, and Yuna follows you, settling on top of you, draping a leg over your thighs and an arm over your chest. You hug her against you, holding her as if she would float away if you let go.

You both need time to come down from the high of your fucking - Yuna herself remains silent against you, save for her heavy, laboured breaths, completely exhausted and overstimulated. She’s never looked so small to you as she does now, nestled against your chest, so comfortable in your arms as if it’s where she was always meant to be.

She summons enough strength to lift her head, opening her wide, brown eyes to meet yours. Seeing her then - bathed in the lovely afterglow of sex, looking absolutely angelic - makes you wonder how you went so long without ever being with her in the first place.

You kiss her - the most natural thing to do, the only thing to do - and confirm that yes, the unreal beauty in your arms is real. The kiss is soft and sweet, her perfect lips lightly brushing against yours, her tongue gently caressing your own. You can feel her lips turn upwards into a smile as she kisses you, and you know it would be impossible to hold back your own stupid grin.

It’s with a small giggle that she breaks your kiss, nuzzling her head against your chest while she looks down at the lasting evidence of your sex around your waists and on the bed below.

“God, you really made a mess of me, Romeo,” Yuna murmurs dreamily into your chest.

'Mess’ is the last word you would use to describe Yuna, but you still take your own peek at the very obvious stains on the bedsheets beneath you, as well as the spilled soju bottles now sprawled across the bedroom’s carpet. The room is filled with the mixed aromas of soju and sex, and you know it’ll take more than an open window to rid the bedroom of the smell.

Yuna kisses your skin over where your heart is, tickling your chin with her hair as she does. Her kisses are soft and cute and loving, in the same way that Yuna is all those things and more, and she only stops when a thought suddenly occurs to her, and she lifts her head and look back up at you again.

“Oh,” she says.

“What?”

“This isn’t my bed.”

“What?” You ask.

Yuna giggles once again, before answering, “Lia is going to be so mad when she sees this. Oh well! Future Yuna’s problem. But we should probably at least attempt to clean up.”

“It is getting late,” you say.

“Stay,” Yuna says, not giving you the chance to even dare suggest that you leave her side. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You kiss her on her forehead reassuringly, and even now you’re not putting up a fight against Yuna’s whims. Still, you glance in the direction of the bathroom, just outside the door. “Then how about a shower?”

“Together?” Yuna proposes, the implication so thick in her voice that you start to crumble all over again. “You wash my back, I’ll wash yours?”

Yuna excitedly unravels herself from you, slipping out of your grasp and rising from the bed, standing before you in her full, glorious nakedness. You stare at her, mentally reminding yourself that yes, you did just have sex with the perfect, slim, tight idol before you, and that yes, that is your cum, thick and white and viscous, running down her thighs.

“What are you doing?” Yuna asks, her voice bringing you out of your reverie.

“Remembering this,” you reply, and Yuna extends a hand to you, helping you up from the bed, and bringing you with her to the bathroom.

—

—

“Argh! What the - ” You exclaim as something hits you in the face, forcing you awake. You open your eyes just in time to catch Yuna drawing her foot back to kick you in the face.

“Come on, I thought you liked this sort of stuff?” She teases, stamping her foot onto your cheek, sending you rolling across the bed. “Hurry up and get out of my house, Romeo.”

“Fuck, okay!” You say, but Yuna keeps poking you with her foot, to the point where you have to tumble out of the bed to escape her prods.

“I’ll give you five minutes to get dressed and then we both have to be out of here,” Yuna says, already leaving the room. “Unlike you, I have to work, and I definitely don’t trust you enough to be alone in our dorm, so chop chop!”

You rub your bleary eyes, adjusting your vision to the sunlight seeping through the window and directly onto your face. You scan the room for your clothes - your shirt is crumpled in a corner, your pants are hanging from a bed post, and your socks are suspiciously missing and presumably lost forever in the mess that is Yuna’s room.

If you were slightly more coherent, you would make a quip about how disorganised she is, but instead you just grumble and get to your feet and start picking up your clothes.

It’s when you’re putting on your pants that you spot Yuna leaning on the bedroom door frame, watching you with a small smile.

“Just enjoying the view,” she giggles, making you suddenly aware of your own nakedness. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, anyway.”

“Yeah,” you say, far too tired and a little too hungover to feel any sense of shame. Plus, she was right - she had seen more than enough of you last night. Yet that still didn’t stop her ogling.

“Anyway, I don’t have time to waste,” Yuna says, more to herself than anything, before adding, “I’ll message you when I’m done with my schedule today.”

“Right.”

“Make sure you pick someplace nice,” she continues. “And wear something better than that. Maybe try a haircut too.”

“Uh - what?”

“For our first date, dummy.”

“Our first - ” you start. “You’re not allowed to date.”

“I never said that,” she says. “I may have let you believe it, but I never said it.”

“Then why - ”

“Because I like you, idiot.”

You have no idea what to say to that - have no idea what to even think. Of course you like her - but… But what?

Yuna doesn’t give you any time to sort out your thoughts or your feelings, and steps across the room towards you. You can’t help the thumping of your heart, nor the lump in your throat, or your shortness of breath, you can only stand still as your friend - the girl you’ve loved longer than you have even been aware of yourself - approaches you.

It could just be a trick of the light, but you swear she’s never looked so good, and you feel like you’re truly seeing her for the first time. Were her eyes always so bright? Did her smile always make your heart race? Was she always so beautiful?

Yuna theatrically sweeps her long, dark hair over her shoulder, tilting her head slightly, and asks - “how do I look?”

You blink, and try to think of something to say that isn’t totally stupid. “Uh - ”

“That good, huh?” Yuna smirks, leaning even closer to you. She even smells incredible.

Yuna places her right hand on your cheek, while snaking her left her hand onto your waist. She stands on the tips of her toes, leaning forward to press her lips against yours, giving you what feels like will be the first of many of these kinds of kisses.

She holds her lips against yours for a precious few seconds, enough for you to wrap your arms around her back and keep her with you for just that little bit longer.

Reluctantly, you let the kiss reach its natural end, and Yuna falls back on the heels of her feet.

She starts to separate from you, letting herself out of your grasp, but it’s then when you both simultaneously become aware of your cock, having itself just woken up from its slumber.

“Ah, that’s -” you say, floundering to find an innocent explanation for your morning wood.

Yuna stops you, and a smile grows on her face, spreading into a dangerous, lustful grin. “I guess I could be talked into being late today, Romeo.”

SHAMELESS ft. Yuna

yuna x male reader smut

5k words

a follow-up to… ROMEO

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know.”

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“We’re in a stairwell! I mean anyone could walk by and—”

“So do you want me to stop, then?”

“Wait—no—it’s not like I want to or anything. But you clearly do. And I feel bad that you came all this way…”

“If you’re really busy, then I guess I can leave…”

“Don’t you even dare, Romeo.”

“Oh, so you want me to stay?” You say, having far too much fun teasing the blonde idol before you. It’s a rare role reversal—Yuna’s usually the one needling you, knowing exactly where to poke and prod to best get a reaction out of you. These opportunities where you have the upper hand are few and far between, and you’ve learnt to relish any chance you get to leave her flustered.

“Ugh, fine. Fine! You win. I miss you, okay? ” Yuna admits, struggling to keep up her façade, letting herself be honest with how she really feels. “I miss you and it’s been too long since I’ve seen you and ever since this comeback’s started and Lia’s banned us from being alone in the room together we haven’t been able to do anything and—”

You take her by the waist with one hand and by the neck with the other, pulling her towards you and cutting her off with a kiss. A moan slips out of her mouth as you kiss her, causing her lips to part wide enough to let in your tongue. You immediately find her own, your tongues tangling and entwining with each other. There’s no better word to describe how she tastes than sweet, giving you a fix of that addictive flavour that you’ve gone far too long without.

Yuna responds by instinct—she wraps her arms around your neck, closing the gap between your bodies, pushing so close to you that you there’s no way she doesn’t feel how hard she already has you, no way she doesn’t notice the bulge straining through denim and poking into her waist.

She feels so good against you, her body is perfection—so tight and slender and always hot—and if she wasn’t in your arms you wouldn’t believe she’s real. Your left hand leaves her back, daring to roam up the side of her bare midriff and finding its destination in her perfect, petite breasts.

If she’s wearing a bra it’s nowhere near thick enough to hide the hardened tips of her nipples, providing you an obvious target for your wandering fingers.

You take hold of her breasts, squeezing and pinching over her sheer top, earning you a pleased sigh into your mouth.

Yuna bites your lip as you pinch her stiffened nipples again, forcing you to separate your kiss so she can whisper, “took you long enough…”

“I have been historically bad at picking up on your hints,” you reply.

“You’re getting better,” Yuna answers, pressing her soft lips to yours once more, this time leading the kiss, letting her hands be the explorers, running over your chest and taking fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer to her.

Her teeth grazes your lips again, but your right hand is tangled in locks of her blonde hair, and you pull back on her head before she can bite down on you again. Yuna gasps as you force her head back, revealing her smooth, vanilla-white neck to you.

“Ah—” Yuna sighs as you place gentle kisses on the base of her throat, feeling the racing beat of her pulse against your lips, tasting every inch of her neck. “By the way… do you like my skirt? You don’t think it's too short, do you?”

You pause your kisses and roll your eyes at her blatant ‘hint’. “I’m not that dumb, Yuna.”

“Just playing it safe,” Yuna teases. “It did take you how many years before you—ah—”

Your hand is already up her skirt before she can finish her sentence, feeling her toned thighs and making its way up that heavenly pathway towards the treasure between her legs.

The contact alone is enough to make Yuna falter, and you follow her as she stumbles backwards into the railing of the staircase behind her. She yelps as her ass is pressed flush against the cold metal, trapping herself between the bannister and you.

“I can’t believe we’re really going to do this here,” Yuna says, but she’s pulling you with her, keeping you close, giving you no indication that she wants you anywhere but between her thighs.

“What’s wrong with here?” You ask, as if it’s perfectly normal to have your hand up your girlfriend’s skirt in the middle of a very accessible stairwell. A stairwell that’s open to almost anyone—staff, managers, other idols.

“I—” Yuna starts, but is quickly silenced by the light brush of your fingertips over her plump, pussy lips. “Fuck it.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You take it slow at first, pulling her panties to the side, allowing you to carefully trace your finger over her already drenched opening—while you know you don’t have much time, teasing Yuna is the one thing that can never be rushed.

You tease her entrance, letting her lips moisten themselves, letting her juices drip down your finger and into the palm of your hand, letting her desperately whisper pleas into your ear for more.

Her hands claw into the back of your neck as she feels your index finger enter her. You take your time, feeling the ripple of her walls clench and quiver around you until your finger disappears completely inside her heat.

“Yesssss,” Yuna moans, as your finger pushes it’s way deeper inside her. “It took years but we finally found something you’re not half-bad at.”

“Only half-bad?” You smirk to yourself—even now, when she’s melting at just your touch, she still can’t resist throwing another jab at you. “I guess I have to work a littler harder.”

You slip in a second finger, stretching out her hole just that little bit wider, joining your first in fingering her with long, patient strokes.

It’s only when you have Yuna whimpering in frustration that you increase your tempo, enough to cause her breathing to hitch, to make her so wet that her juices flow down from her pussy, coating your whole hand.

“Oh—oh fuck,” Yuna whimpers, clenching her eyes shut and burying her face into your shoulder, laying kisses onto your neck just so she can feel that much closer to you. “How are you this good with your fingers?”

You’re a model student when it comes to Yuna’s tight, young body, using each time you’ve had sex with her as an opportunity to learn the ways to make her writhe and squirm—to have her at the mercy of your fingers and quite literally in the palm of your hand.

You curl your digits upwards, finding that rough patch at the roof of her pussy, targeting it with your fingertips. Yuna cries out as you stimulate her most sensitive spot, muffling her moans into your neck as you massage her g-spot, rubbing and pressing in just the right way, teasing out lovely, lustful moans of pleasure from her pretty mouth.

She’s so turned on—she's been so turned on ever since you stole her away—and you can already feel her getting closer. You recognise the urgent grinding of her hips against your palm, the raise in pitch of her cries, but even with her breaths hurried and her voice strained, Yuna finds the strength to lift her head to say— 

“Fuck, I don’t want to stop but—God I’m so close to—”

You’re purposeful with your fingerfucking—neither picking up or slowing down, keeping Yuna on that dangerous edge, prolonging her own climax for as long as you can. It only serves to make her whine more, to grow more needy and demanding of you, to make every second that you’re not fucking her unbearable.

“God! Stop teasing! Please—just—fuck—ah!”

No matter how many times you’ve had Yuna like this—had her delicious, tight body pressed against yours, her pussy leaking and making a mess of your fingers—it’s never enough. Nothing can turn you on more than having Yuna hot and bothered—after years of suffering from all her taunting and teasing, having her beg for your cock drives you wild.

She attempts to grab at your wrist, needing you to either finger her faster, or stop entirely and fuck her like she so badly wants, but you’re too single-minded in your focus to be swayed away from your current course.

“Please—please—” Yuna sighs, “we don’t have much time and—”

“And?” You smile, as you fall back into this familiar dance with Yuna. Despite how many times you’ve had sex, despite how many times she’s come to you and even initiated—she’s still shy when it comes to asking for the one thing that could truly fulfil her carnal desires.

“I need you to… you know…”

“I don’t think I do,” you feign ignorance, focused on thumbing her clit and making her shiver against you. Her abs tense and shudder beneath your touch as you drag your other hand up to reach for her ludicrously small top, lifting both it and her bra off her body, giving you access to her wonderful, small breasts.

You dive in immediately, capturing a lovely, bite-size nipple into your mouth, feeling it grow stiff between your lips with arousal. It was a thrilling discovery when you realised how sensitive her nipples were—how weak she got to the slightest lick, or gentlest suckle.

Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you against the swell of her breasts. Not that it’s necessary at all—you’re more than happy to kiss and suck at her chest, to slide your tongue around her nipple, to devour her breasts as you listen to her sharp breaths and strained sighs of pleasure.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” Yuna sighs. She strokes the back of your head, too consumed with the stimulation of your tongue greedily lapping at her tiny breasts, and your teeth teasingly nipping at her stiffened nubs.

“Depends on how badly you want it,” you reply, as you switch to her other breast, determined to give her other delicious, taut nipple the equal amount of attention and care it deserves.

“Fine!” Yuna shouts, so loud that it even surprises her. You lift your head from her chest to look up at her—at her face flushed bright red, overheating with pure, desperate lust. Yuna’s eyes are glassy and intense as she looks down at you, only one thought—one desire—on her mind. She bites her lip and gives in, whispering, “fuck me.”

“Didn’t quite catch that, Yuna,” you say, making the most of another opportunity to tease her more. You straighten your posture to look her straight in her eyes.

Her wide, irresistible, pleading eyes.

“Fuck me, Romeo.”

“Say it again,” you say, wanting to hear the girl you love repeat your favourite combination of words in the entire history of spoken language. “Beg for it.”

Yuna seizes you by the shirt, pulling you in close enough that you can see the exact shade of eyeliner she’s wearing. She demands of you—growls at you—in a low, husky voice. “Fuck me. Spin me around, flip my skirt up and fuck me with your Big. Fucking. Cock. There, I said it. Happy?”

“More than you know,” you answer, and you take a step back from her. You have every intention of doing as she says—grabbing her by her impossibly slim waist and spinning her around so you can fuck her until she can’t even say her own name—but you can’t help but find yourself struck, mesmerised by seeing Yuna in all her beauty.

Even now, skirt in disarray, top practically torn from her chest—she takes your breath away. She’s the epitome of what an idol should look like, an angelic face on a succubus body—drop-dead gorgeous looks, perfect, long legs, wide tantalising hips, a tight, firm waist, and tits so petite and perky that they make your mouth water on sight alone.

And you were the idiot that wanted to remain friends.

“I know, I'm perfect, Romeo,” Yuna states matter-of-factly, somewhat annoyed at your inability to focus.

Her fingers are already unbuttoning your pants for you, doing everything she can to remove the obstacles that stand in the way of you and her fucking. She doesn’t even bother hiding the lustful smile that spreads across her face when she fishes your cock out from the trappings of your underwear. You’re already engorged, already leaking, and all it took was just her touch. 

“But please, hurry up and fuck me.”

You don’t need to be told a third time—you seize her by the hips and whip her around in a single motion, pushing her forward and against the railing, and yanking her panties down her creamy thighs.

With one hand on her back you push her down, bending her over so her firm, supple ass is pointed up at you. You hold her steady with your other hand, positioning her so her entrance is lined up with the tip of your cock. You can feel how hot she is, how wet she is for you—she’s dripping down onto the head of your cock, more than ready for you to take her.

You’ve delayed far enough—you shift your hips forward and ease yourself into her, pushing your cock inside of her unbearably tight body inch by inch.

“Yuna!” Her name slips from your lips as you sink inside her, instantly overwhelming you with the clutching warmth of her pussy.

She’s just as heavenly and hot and tight as that first time—only now her pussy is quicker to submit to you, quicker to welcome your cock as it parts her clenching walls and pushes forward into the very depths of her cunt.

You thought it the first time you entered her and you still think it now—her pussy, her body—Yuna was made for you.

Made to be fucked by you.

“Thaaat’s what I needed,” Yuna moans as your hips push forward, a euphoric cry ripped from her lips as she feels your cock dive deep inside her. “Gah—GOD!—ah—yessssss!”

You start to move in her, thrusting your cock in and out of her with long, slow strokes. She stumbles forward and catches herself on the railing front of her, doing her best to keep herself standing as her knees start to buckle and shake, growing weak from the steady pace of your fucking.

Even though she tries to hide it, tries to hold herself back, she can’t help but mewl and moan and vibrate around you, can’t stop expressing how utterly enamoured she is with each entrance and exit of your cock.

With each stroke you stretch out her pussy, shaping her hot, wet, tight walls around your length, moulding her cunt in the shape of your cock. You roam your hands up and down her fit body—touching her, massaging her, fondling her, easing her into taking your cock whole.

“God—how do you still feel so big,” Yuna says softly, biting down on her lip to stifle the soft grunts that escape her as her body adjusts to you.

You’ve barely even started fucking her, but the experience is already so divine—the way she cries out your name, the way she quivers around you, the way her walls tense and flex as you get deeper and deeper with each stroke inside her pussy, and how she grows wetter and wetter as her body takes your cock again and again and again.

“Yes… Yes… So good… Yes!”

It’s with a firm, hard thrust that you finally bury your cock inside her, meeting her hips with your own, fully penetrating her idol pussy. The air rushes out of your lungs as the intoxicating feeling of having her warmth wrapped around you reverberates through your entire body, and it’s only when Yuna speaks that you’re snapped out from the spell cast by her pussy.

“I don’t—I don’t need you to take it easy on me anymore—I don’t need you to make love to me right now…” Yuna sighs, urging her own ass back onto your hips. “Harder, please. I need it harder. And faster. I need to cum—now.”

Her words snap you back to reality, and unlocks that raw, animalistic urge inside your mind—the one that calls you to tighten your grip on her hips, to thrust into her harder, to pick up your pace and fuck her as fast as she demanded.

You look down as you draw back from her, captivated by the sight of inch after inch of your cock leaving her pussy, your entire length glistening with Yuna’s nectar, evidence of how badly she needed you to be inside her.

It’s only when the very tip of your cock remains nestled between her clasping folds do you push back into her, mercilessly thrusting your hips forward, invading her pussy and filling it with your entire length in one, rough stroke.

“Mmmmmph!” Yuna purses her lips, trying to stifle the raw cry as you start to truly fuck her.

The sensation of fucking someone as tight and hot as Yuna from behind is almost too immense, to the point where it only briefly occurs to you that you may be going too fast for someone who was basically a virgin a matter of weeks ago. But that thought is instantly dismissed and drowned out by the sound of Yuna’s moans building in volume, getting louder and louder with each strong thrust.

Yuna’s so wet around you—her juices spill out of her and onto you, endlessly drooling from her lips and lathering your cock, making it so easy to slide in and out of her, to squeeze down into her ass cheeks and indulge yourself in the unreal pleasure emanating from her pussy.

“AH! Yes—oh my God—so fucking good—YES!”

Any illusions of fucking in silence are quickly dispelled by the echoing of Yuna’s voice, making it certain that anyone, no matter what floor, would be able to hear her praise how big your cock is, how hot she found you, how good you are at fucking her.

But you’re far gone now, it’s too late, too hard to stop—especially now, so deep in the warmth and wetness of her pussy, so lost in the sight of her tight, perfect body as she fucks herself back onto your cock, taking you inside her over and over again.

“Yuna!” You gasp in a weak attempt to warn her of her volume.

“What, am I too loud?” Yuna hisses back. “Fuck you, this is your fault. Just keep fucking me and—ah FUCK!”

Yuna squeals, as you pick your opportunity to spank her hard, hard enough that the clap of your palm against her cheek bounces up and down the walls of the stairwell. If she didn’t care about the noises she was making, then she certainly wouldn’t care about you adding to it.

“Shit that’s so—fuh—FUCK!” Yuna cries out again, as you bring down your palm on her other cheek.

The idea of getting caught spanking her, of marring the pristine, flawless skin of Yuna’s ass moments before she has to get on stage, spurs you on. Knowing that soon she’ll be performing for audiences across the world with your handprint marked red on her gorgeous cheeks makes you want to treat her even rougher, to spank her even harder.

“Don’t you—FUCK—” you interrupt Yuna with another spank “—HEY! —” and another “—fine, just a couple more and that’s—AH!”

You bring your hand down on her cheeks again and again, savouring the way she shudders when your palm meets her ass, the way she yelps and moans and tightens around you with each strike.

It’s almost unbelievable the things you get to do with her now—the things she lets you to do her. Gone are the nights spent playing playing drinking games and watching bad movies—now the two of you have a new favourite pastime.

“Ummph—ah—I can't believe I like this so—fuh—much!”

You give Yuna a final, firm spank, satisfied that you’ve left your mark on her perfect ass. She shudders as you soothe the redness of her cheeks, massaging the handprint you left behind, admiring your own work of art that you’ve created on her incredible body. 

Apparently this is mistake, however, because your momentary pause leaves Yuna to push back on you once more, and fills her with enough confidence to taunt, “is that all you got?”

A wide grin spreads across your face as you take up Yuna’s challenge, returning your hands to her hips, and resuming the task at hand.

“Come on—give it to me—”

You don’t let her finish her sentence, immediately picking up where you left off. All that matters is Yuna and her pussy, squeezing you as you plough into her, driving you insane with the way she tightens and leaks all around you.

It’s the roughest you’ve ever fucked her, but Yuna is just as game as you are, matching you thrust for thrust, moan for moan. It’s enough to make you throb against the her walls, to grunt at her—“fuck Yuna, take it—take my fucking cock.”

“That’s it—give it to me—yes! I want you to cum inside me—I need you to cum inside me. It’s been too long and I’ve been thinking about it for days now and I need to feel it in me so please, please, please—give it to me, now!”

You answer her with a hard thrust, slamming your hips into her with enough force that makes you mildly concerned for the structural integrity of the bannister—but it’s far too late to start caring. The whole building could collapse around the two of you and you’d still be fucking her, still be chasing the high that her wet pussy promised.

“Just like that—yes that’s perfect—th-that’s—ah I just need to—”

You’re so deep from this angle, fucking her with long, hard strokes and reaching depths of Yuna’s incredible, tight body you aren’t sure have ever been reached before, simply because Yuna hadn’t been fucked hard enough.

But you’re reaching them now.

“Fuck—so good—I can’t hold on—cum for me—please—fuck me—FUCK ME!”

“Yuna!” You want to admonish her for her volume, but only managing to grunt out—”noise.”

“Cover my mouth, then—it's your fault I’m moaning so—mmph!”

You do just that—reaching around for her mouth, clasping your hand over her lips. Rather than quiet down, Yuna takes that as license to freely cry out in pleasure into your palm. Even though her moans are now muffled, you still recognise the same word being screamed into your hand over and over again—

“Please, please, please—”

You can feel yourself slipping—you know your time is quickly running out—the way she pulses, she tightens, she soaks around you, it all feels too good to hold on any longer.

Your fucking reaches a fevered pace, your cock wantonly pumping in and out of her slickness, each stroke faster than the last, pushing the two of you closer and closer over that wonderful edge.

Yuna tries to brace herself on the railing in front of her but it’s pointless—her entire weight is held up by your hands, her whole body at your mercy to touch, to hold, to fuck—exactly how she likes it.

It’s fast, it’s intense, it’s two bodies moving in blissful tandem, intent on giving as much pleasure as taking—and as quickly as it picked up, it soon becomes too much for Yuna to handle.

She straightens her body out, standing on her toes and giving you another new angle to fuck her—pressing her back into your body, forcing you to loosen your hand from her lips to grab onto a soft, jiggling breast, groping her chest in an effort to keep her steady.

Yuna’s breathing gets faster, her eyes start to roll to the back of her head—it’s not long now. She writhes in your arms, so sensitive to the way you’re treating her—groping her tiny tits like that was what they were made for, spanking her ass to mark it as yours, fucking her pussy like it belonged to you.

“Give it to me—fuck me and give it to me—cum in me—fill me please—yes—I’ve been so good—I need it—please—”

Yuna comes apart beneath you, moaning your name in an endless sigh, making it sound like music coming from her lips. Her orgasm becomes a full-body experience—she shakes, quivers, convulses as her climax takes over her, turning her into nothing but a wave of pleasure crashing all around you.

She pushes back against you, ensuring you feel every squeeze and pulse of her cunt around you as she cums, leaving you helpless to do much else but brace yourself against her as your own orgasm is ripped from your body.

“Fuck—Yuna!” You groan out her name, your own cry joining hers as you find your release within her pussy, both your vision and your mind blurring as you’re pulled into a moment of delirious high.

Yuna’s whole body reacts to the first, powerful burst of thick, hot cum into her still-quivering pussy, tensing deliciously around you as she feels you fill her. Her tight, petite frame rocks with each successive load, despite her best efforts to keep her ass pressed flushed against your waist.

You dig your fingers into her hips, desperately trying to push your cock further into her, so deep that your cum starts to spill out the corners of her cunt and leak down her creamy-white thighs.

“God yes,” Yuna cries out, “it feels so good—you feel so good inside me—ah yes—God I—FUCK!”

Yuna’s body goes limp—her moans abruptly stop, her eyes clench shut, and her mouth freezes in a wordless, soundless scream—and you feel nothing but the glorious sensation of Yuna’s squeezing cunt.

You slam your hips into her one final time, impaling Yuna completely, letting the pleasure ripple through your body and erupt from your cock and into her needy, insatiable pussy, filling her with every last drop of cum you’ve saved for her.

It’s all too much, too intense, and you’re almost worried that it will never end—that the two of you would be trapped in a world of neverending pleasure. But eventually—after several, achingly wonderful seconds—the waves of your climaxes start to subside, and you collapse over each other.

“Damn, Yuna,” you groan, straining to find the words to describe just how good it feels to cum inside your girlfriend once more.

“Fuck,“ Yuna says back, needing her own time to catch her breath, gradually coming back to her in hard gasps.

You remain like that for a moment, still basking in the hazy afterglow of your fucking, hearing nothing but the sounds of your heartbeats and your heavy breathing, your senses filled with the smell of sweat and cum permeating through the air.

"Wow,” Yuna finally manages to gasps, and giggles to herself in disbelief at what the two of you just did. “Oh my God. Wow. I feel so warm now… God, I’m so sweaty too…”

You smile at that, her back’s practically glowing under the sheen of sweat that covers her, and you can’t resist kissing the slope of her neck. You make a trail further down, landing your lips between her shoulder blades, playfully sucking at her skin. Your hands wander over her body, caressing her curves—you run your fingers up her sides, massage her worn muscles, knead into her tiny breasts—making a slight effort to extend the glow of satisfaction for just that little longer.

“Thank you,” Yuna whispers, kissing into your arm as your hand wanders slightly higher up her chest. “That was just… fuck…”

“Agreed,” you reply, murmuring into her skin. “You okay?”

Yuna laughs, “better than okay. Fucking amazing.”

You keep kissing her back, making your way down her spine, tasting the salt of her skin. “I suppose you’re going to be late?”

“I was already late when we started,” Yuna says, turning back so she can look at you over her shoulder. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll make up some excuse and—Unnie?”

You catch the surprised look on Yuna’s face and whirl your own head around to see a third person frozen still and standing right behind you. It’s a woman—looking at the two of you in complete and utter shock, gawking like she can’t even comprehend what she’s seeing.

It takes you a second to register her presence as well—to recognise the tall, slender, absolutely stunning girl standing before you. It’s the type of beauty that is undeniable, and whether appropriate or not, it’s hard not to notice how attractive she is—from her exposed midriff, putting her abs proudly on display, to the creaminess of her thighs poking out from her short-shorts, and her long legs, rivalling even Yuna herself.

You’re quick to realise who it is, and before you can stop yourself, her name is already slipping from your lips—“Tzuyu.”

She doesn’t even recognise that you’ve said her name—she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move—if you didn’t catch her blink, you would be convinced she’s a statue.

“Uh—” you start, dumbstruck, your mind wiped blank and unable to find the right words to explain why your cock is currently impaling her junior.

“Unnie, I can explain!” Yuna suddenly interjects, and even you’re curious to see what excuse she could possibly come up with to get the two of you out of this predicament. “You see—he slipped!”

You turn back to Yuna, looking at her incredulously, and mouth ‘what the fuck?’

To her credit, Yuna ignores you and powers on, determined to see her explanation through. “He slipped and fell and I tried to catch him and—”

You almost slap yourself then and there—that’s the best she can come up with?

Thankfully, Tzuyu doesn’t stick around to hear the rest of Yuna’s word salad—choosing instead to end the entire interaction. Both you and Yuna watch in stunned silence as Tzuyu backs away slowly and turns around, leaving out the same door she came in, as if she was never even there at all.

It takes a moment for the two of you to even realise that yes, that did just happen, and no, you have no idea if this is going to be an issue.

Yuna turns back to you, a wide, sweet grin plastered across her face, as if your cock isn’t still buried inside her, and your cum isn’t leaking out her well-fucked pussy and sliding down her juicy thighs.

She giggles, and innocently asks, “do you think she bought it?”

CLOSER ft. Ningning

ningning x male reader smut

8k words

Not even a minute has passed and Ningning has already noticed your arrival to the party.

You smirk and send her wink.

She scowls and shoves her handbag into the arms of the man next to her, leaving him behind and storming her way over to you.

You don’t move an inch, you just keep smiling as you wait for her to come to you⁠—it’s hard to do anything but smile when someone as attractive as Ningning is coming your way, even if the look on her face is fierce enough to put the fear of death in most men.

The crowd parts as she walks towards you, heads turn to catch even a glimpse of the beautiful, young Chinese woman angrily stomping her way across the party. You even see a clearly inebriated bystander fall over himself attempting a double take when she walks on by.

You don’t blame him—he isn’t the first man to fall on his knees for her.

It’s almost comical how pissed at you she is—deservedly so, if you’re honest—and while you know you should be a little worried, all that anger of hers can’t hide the tantalising sway of her hips or the soft jiggle of her breasts as she walks, and all it does is build up your anticipation and excitement until she’s right in front of you, yelling—

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You can’t actually hear what she’s saying over the booming bass of the speakers—the music’s blasting so loud that you’re probably going to leave the party with permanent damage to your eardrums—but you’ve spent enough time with her lips that you can read them with your eyes closed.

She yells at you again, and you put a finger behind your ear, indicating to her that you can’t hear her.

She curses—again, you assume that she’s cursing—and seizes you by your wrist to roughly drag you out of the main crowd of people, pulling you towards the row of trailers set up to the side of the outdoor party.

You’re more than happy to be led along like this, especially when it gives you the chance to admire her from behind—to watch the bounce of her supple, round ass, held high and taut by jeans so skinny they might as well be painted on.

The few security guards lining the area let her through without a word, and she brings you straight past them and into one of the trailers.

She just about throws you in, yanking you by the arm and pulling you into a sparsely filled room. You glance around at the interior—all storage boxes and crates, nothing quite interesting—but it gives you enough privacy that the party, and most importantly all the noise, is kept isolated outside.

Ningning closes the door behind her with a loud slam, and when you turn to meet her dark eyes you see nothing but rage.

Rage and blonde hair.

That’s new.

“Hey Yizhuo.” You smile at her. Your warm greeting is not reciprocated. “Change your hair?”

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“I was invited,” you say, unfazed by her harsh stare. The casualness of your tone seems to have the opposite intended effect on her, making her even angrier, if that’s somehow possible.

“Y-you know what I’m talking about!” Ningning’s voice starts to shake, barely able to hold down the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. “You ghost me for months. And then you show up here of all places? You hate these people. Braindead, elitist, trust-fund babies, right?”

You shrug, taking a moment to glance outside one of the trailer’s small windows. “I like parties. I like fun.”

“Fuck. You.”

Ningning huffs and puffs in front of you, but you know she’s really all bark and no bite. Metaphorically, that is—in reality there was always some biting.

You give her the chance to cool down a little, occupying yourself by taking stock of her new blonde locks. The colour suits her in a way that’s so obvious that you wonder why she didn’t do it sooner. Then again, you remember when she was a redhead, then a brunette, and her natural black, and you come to the conclusion that the chance of finding a colour that doesn’t suit Ningning is next to zero.

You let your eyes wander over her body—past the elegant slope of her neck, down the lovely curve of her collarbone, to her breasts, carefully squeezed and pushed up to give just enough cleavage to make the imagination go wild. Even though her top has the bare minimum amount of material to disqualify it as a bra, it’s still a criminal amount of clothing to cover her body with.

Still, there isn’t a thing that Ningning can wear that can diminish just how much of a downright smokeshow she is—a full 161 centimetres of tease, wielding an hourglass figure that could only belong to the devil’s mistress herself.

“Where’s Joy?” Ningning finally spits out, bitterness dripping from her voice. “I heard your cock’s been buried in her cunt the past few months?”

You raise an eyebrow at that. “You’ve been asking around about me?”

A blush spreads across her cheeks, her eyes darting to the side to avoid your gaze, fearful that if you could see her you’d be able to find the answer to your question. But it’s not like you don’t already know.

“What about you?” You ask playfully. “Come here alone?”

“You know I’m not alone,” she snaps back.

You sigh and frown and do your best to act genuinely hurt. “I’m surprised you moved on so quickly, Yizhuo. That hurts.”

“I’m surprised you can even feel,” Ningning fires back. “You left me. Or did you forget already?”

You take another cursory glance through the window, idly scanning the crowd for familiar faces. “So that guy you left holding your handbag was your boyfriend, huh? He looks nice.”

Ningning grinds her teeth. “He is nice.”

You turn back to her, and this time she can’t avoid your gaze, forced to meet your eyes as you ask her, “does he make you happy?”

“He doesn’t make me cry.” Her words hang in the air between the two of you, their implication loud and clear. Whatever he was to Ningning, he wasn't enough.

You take a step closer to her, leaning in and dropping your voice low, throwing in a follow-up jab. “But he also doesn’t make you cum.”

The blush spreads further, and Ningning once again averts her eyes from yours. Despite how flustered you have her she still doesn’t back down, doesn’t take a step back. “Th-that’s none of your business!”

“So I’m right then?” You say, more a statement than an actual question.

“He's fine,” Ningning replies, but you doubt that even she believes her own words.

“Because fine was always good enough for you, right?”

“Are you acting like you were good enough for me?”

“Wasn’t I?” You chuckle to yourself, but you know she’s both right and wrong all at once. You were a terrible couple, and you were an even worse boyfriend in all the ways possible—except for the one way that actually mattered.

“I don’t know what I’m even doing here, I should—”

“You’re here because he doesn't fuck you as good as I did.”

“Excuse me?” Ningning’s dark eyes snap back to yours, wide and passionate and shimmering with the beginnings of tears, and it’s through them that your longing desire for her becomes an intense need.

You push further, each word you say has an effect on her—her lip quivers, her cheeks redden, her breaths grow harsher. “Does he fuck you like I did—does he make you squirt like I could? With just a finger, or a tongue—is his cock even enough for you?”

“H-he—” Ningning stutters, and you dare to reach for her, to place a hand on the side of her hip and squeeze into tight denim. And then you see it—the glint of something—the spark of lust in her eyes. Her mouth opens instinctively, her eyes flash down to your jeans, staring idly at your crotch—remembering the way she knew you could make her feel, remembering you. She just needs a push.

“I know you, Yizhuo—better than anyone else can. I know that fine is not enough.” You’re whispering now, lowering your lips to her ear and feeding back to her the thoughts you know are running through her mind. “You don’t need to be treated nice—you need to be treated like the slut you are. You need your body fucked. Used. Worshipped.”

“Fuck you,” Ningning says, her voice sharp and her breath hot.

“You came over to me, darling. You could’ve just ignored me and stayed by your boyfriend’s side—but you dragged me to this trailer where we would be alone,” you say. “You had every opportunity to be the good little girlfriend and stay at that loser’s side. But instead, you’re here with me. Why?”

“I-I—”

“You miss my cock,” you answer for her. “You settled for less and you thought you’d be okay with it but you're not. He doesn’t make you cry? That's nice. But that’s not what you need.”

“That’s not true,” Ningning says, so quietly that she might as well have not said it at all.

“Your words, Yizhuo, not mine—or am I misremembering all the times you told me that you were my slut,” you fire back.

You know you’ve already won, your mind is racing to what’s next—your eyes are on her neck, on her exposed back, on the thin string of her panties peeking out of her waistband—and all you can think about is ripping off those jeans and fucking her into the wall and hearing her repeat all the ways in which she was yours.

And then she slaps you.

It’s a bit too early for slapping by your estimation, and it catches you so off guard that you can’t help but laugh.

Ningning clearly doesn’t see the humour in it, still seething, emotions coming to a boiling point, fixing you with a gaze so intense that you brace yourself for a second strike.

Only instead of hitting you, both her hands reach out, grabbing fistfuls of your t-shirt and pulling you down to her level and forcing you into a kiss that’s desperate and needy and messy in all the right ways. Despite her stature there’s a strength to her—the sting on your cheek still lingers on and her grip on your shirt lets you know that you won’t be escaping anytime soon. Not that you mind, anyway.

You quickly respond to her assault and reciprocate her kiss with equal urgency and passion—your arms wrap around her, your hands find the small of her back, pulling her into you, holding her slender, soft body against yours and squeezing sweet moans into your mouth.

Each moment of your kiss brings memories flooding back to your mind—how soft her lips are, how eager her tongue is, how good and hot she feels in your arms. You hold her waist against you, grinding your hips together, letting her feel how badly you want it too.

You taste her, smell her, feel her, and it’s as your hands are buried in the back of her jeans, groping into two full, round cheeks, that she untangles her tongue from yours long enough to whimper into your mouth—"I missed you.“

You smile against her lips, crushing her with another kiss, pushing onto her until you’re pressing her back against the wall. She pulls you along with her, needing you to keep your lips on hers, to keep your hands on her body, to claim all of her as your own.

It’s almost too easy, you have her quite literally in the palm of your hand—or maybe she has you in hers—either way she seems more and more desperate for you with each passing moment, closer to forgetting that she even has a boyfriend in the first place.

Or maybe that’s the point.

Ningning’s always loved the idea of getting caught—when you were dating you spent more time fucking in toilet stalls, changing rooms and alleyways than in any actual bedroom. It’s the thrill of it that gets her off, the danger of being exposed for the nymphomaniac she actually is, and what could be more dangerous than getting fucked with her boyfriend just outside the door?

As fucked up as it is, you wouldn’t even be surprised if that’s why she started dating the poor guy in the first place—in preparation for when you would eventually, inevitably fuck her again.

You test out your theory, separating your lips from hers, whispering into her neck—"it’s been a while since I’ve fucked someone else’s girlfriend.”

Ningning gasps, freezing still. Her eyes are wild and alert, like a cornered animal, fighting between her desire to be the good girl she thought she had to be and her instinct to be the slut you both knew she really was deep down inside. “That’s not—I’m not a—”

“Not a what?” You ask, dipping your head to take her neck, intent on marking your territory on her pristine, unblemished skin. “Not a dirty, cheating slut?”

“No—ah—” Ningning tries to protest but is betrayed by her own moans—the word is a trigger for her, enough to make her body tremble, her knees weak, leaving her no choice but to accept the truth of what she really is.

You circle a palm around her hip, feeling your way over the stretched denim to rest on her mound. She whimpers as you push into her, digging your thumb into the waistband of her jeans and pressing your finger against the swell of her pussy. You purposefully target the very peak of her arousal, applying enough pressure onto her mound to make her say—

“Please.”

You stop, purposefully prolonging her pleasure, relaxing your hand and pulling back. Your fingertips have barely left her body before she grabs you by your wrist, returning your hand to its rightful place.

Ningning holds your hand on her and doesn’t move, just looks up at you with her gorgeous, puppy-dog eyes expectantly, desperately waiting for you to keep going. There’s heat in her gaze—except now there’s no anger to be found, it’s all just pure, filthy want.

It’s with a gleeful smile that you pop open her jeans with a flick of your thumb. There’s no time for ceremony—her zipper goes next, then her jeans are peeled down her thighs, and your smile spreads into a grin when you see the black thong that you had only caught a glimpse of before.

It’s like she’s come specifically prepared for this.

Ningning bites down on her lip, holding back a gasp as you push the thin string of her thong to the side and slide your fingers over her waiting, soaking wet cunt. She’s so sensitive—her juices already drooling onto your fingers, her grip around your wrist growing tighter as you start to move.

She shivers under your touch, just the lightest movement causes the most momentous reaction—each gentle brush of your finger over her hot, plump lips, each slight graze over her stiffening clit is answered with a gasp or a moan or a plea for more.

You venture downwards, dragging your fingers down her folds and over her slickness. "How long has it been since this pussy’s been treated right?”

Ningning doesn’t respond—can’t respond—doing her best to keep standing, leaning almost all her weight on the wall behind her. There’s no easing her into it—you slip two fingers inside of her, and you’re immediately met with warmth, wetness, and the squeeze of her walls around your digits.

“Oh fuck!” Ningning cries out as you start to work your fingers inside her. Her hips buck against your hand, and she twitches so violently on your palm that you have to grab onto her shoulder to keep her on her feet.

You hold her against the wall, sawing your fingers in and out of her clenching cunt, using her whimpers and moans to find the perfect rhythm angle to penetrate her tight body.

There’s a small window over her shoulder, giving you a look into the party continuing outside. There’s some faces you recognise—mostly people you know through Ningning, all none the wiser, too lost in their own celebrations to even imagine that their friend is getting finger-fucked just metres away.

You get carried away—your fingers plunge deeper inside her, and it’s with a loud, harsh gasp that Ningning seizes back your attention. It’s like you’ve turned on a faucet within her—her juices freely flow out of her and bathe your fingers, coating you in so much of her slickness that every push into her cunt is accompanied by the squelching noises of her walls around you.

“Look how wet you already are,” you say in wonder. “Who were you trying to convince, Yizhuo? This is what you really are, this is what you really want.”

Ningning squeezes her legs around you, trapping your hand between her thighs. She’s so slick, so easy to push into, yet the clenching of her walls around you makes every withdrawal of your fingers a battle.

She’s practically melting in your hand, inhaling sharply in time with your fast, rough finger-fucking, sighing when you curl your fingers upwards to stimulate the sensitive ceiling of her cunt.

It doesn’t take long—it never does with Ningning. It’s like riding a bike—an extremely horny, ludicrously wet bike—you remember how she likes to be handled, to be held, your muscle memory guiding your fingers to the exact points of contact to make her writhe.

“Never forget—this cunt was mine first and always will be.” You reach up to her chest with your free hand, groping into her tits to emphasise your point. The fabric of her top is so thin that you can feel her taut nipple underneath, making it easy to find it with your fingers and roughly pull on it.

“A-ah yes!”

Ningning reaches out for you, her arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer so she can hold herself tight against you. Her breathless moans fill your ears, blending in with the sloshing of her pussy around your fingers, leaking freely into your palm.

You return your lips to her neck, drinking her in, tasting the salty-sweet softness of her skin against your lips. The smell of her alone—the aroma of sweat and sex and her perfume—intoxicates you, drives you to keep going, to not stop your assault on Ningning’s perfect, tight body.

With each moment her moans get louder, her breaths hurried and desperate, and it’s as her thighs flex around your hand that your fingers trigger the most sensitive part of her body like only you alone can.

A strained cry leaves Ningning’s lips and her hand shoots up to clasp over her mouth, doing her best to muffle herself as she screams out an orgasm into her palm that’s so quick and so sudden, catching you both by surprise.

Ningning throws her head back, and you have enough sense to quickly move your hand between the back of her head and the wall to cushion the impact. Not that she even notices, she’s too lost in the spike of pleasure coursing through her body to feel anything but the blissful rush emanating from her cunt.

There’s a split second where Ningning suddenly freezes—every muscle in her body tenses, her eyes roll to the back of her head, her mouth hangs open in a frozen ‘O’, and her pussy clenches so tightly on your fingers that you think she may never let go.

But you know what this is, have experienced it so many times before—it’s just the calm before the storm, the build-up to when finally, mercilessly, Ningning lets go and lets the dam within her break.

It’s with a long, euphoric sigh that Ningning squirts directly into your palm—clear, creamy liquid spraying out of her and splashing onto your forearm and against your waist.

It’s a beautiful, filthy sight, and the sheer relief and joy on her face tells you it’s been far too long since she’s cum like this. Your fingers never stop their work inside her, wanting to see her orgasm to its end—you need to find out just how much squirt she has to expend, never mind the mess that it makes of you or her or the trailer.

Several long, wet seconds pass, before eventually her pussy is drained, and you slow your pace inside her. She gradually catches her breath, panting gasps becoming more stable, and her eyes open and her thighs let go of their hold around your wrist.

She realises that you’re pretty much holding her up by her cunt at this point, and she leans back against the wall to allow you to set your fingers free.

Her eyes are glued to your fingers, glistening with evidence of her orgasm, and you courteously offer them to her. She hesitates at first, eyes darting to meet yours, like an obedient pet waiting for your explicit instruction.

You smile and give her a nod, letting her know that yes, she may go ahead and taste her own cunt.

She rolls out her tongue, at first carefully daring a lick of your fingertips, getting her first taste of her own sweet nectar, before capturing your fingers between her soft lips and sucking. She hums as she tastes herself, moaning as she slowly takes your fingers into her mouth.

Her eyes go wide when you decide to help her out, pushing your fingers past her lips, but she quickly adapts, savouring the taste of her cum, lapping up the remnants of her squirt off your fingers. She’s so hungry for it, hungry for you—and you suddenly regret not having your phone ready to take a photo of the look of pure, desperate lust on her face as she sucks your digits clean.

You want to relish in the sight of her, but you can already feel your own cock threatening to tear a hole through your own jeans. While you could stay in this moment forever, it’s only a matter of time before one of her friends goes looking for her and catches you both red handed.

Of course, that’s what makes it all the more hotter.

“Tell me what you want,” you say as you pull your fingers out of the grasp of her pouting, pink lips.

“You,” she sighs back, ignoring the strand of saliva that still hangs from her lips to your fingertips. “I just want you.”

“Then take my cock out for me, Yizhuo,” you command.

Ningning acts without protest, unbuckling your belt with practiced movements, deftly unbuttoning your jeans and loosening the zipper. Her eyes remain transfixed, growing wider the more the zipper reveals, finally pushing your jeans down to your thighs to reveal your dark briefs, and the large, prominent bulge hidden underneath.

Her fingers immediately go for the waistband of your briefs—she’s done with slow reveals and anticipation, she’s lost all patience for your cock. You want to chide her for the way she roughly yanks down the last barrier to your cock, but you want it just as badly as her.

Your cock springs to life, flicking out from the grasp of your underwear and finding it’s home in Ningning’s hands—she’s prepared and at the ready to capture your stiffening shaft in her delicate, gentle fingers. She runs her hand down your length with slow, soft strokes, shooting pleasurable tingles up your nerve endings. It’s the same for her as it is for you—just like no one touches her like you can, no one knows their way around your cock better than her.

“God, I—” Ningning can’t quite string together the words, too wrapped up in her fascination with your cock, completely fixated at the sight of the one vice she’s been starved from for so long.

You want to let her continue, to keep stroking you to her heart’s content, but it would just be further delaying what you both really want—the true reason you both came to this party in the first place.

You take her by the chin, tilting her face up to bring her deep, dark eyes back up to meet yours. There’s a tremble in her lip, and all of a sudden you find that you’re doubting yourself—not in what you are about to do to her, but in the fact that you somehow let her go in the first place.

But she’s yours now.

You just have to take her.

“Turn around,” you say to her, running the pad of your thumb across her bottom lip. “I’m going to fuck you against this wall.”

Ningning shifts in a motion that is far too familiar for the both of you, and one you’ve sorely missed in the months that have passed. She turns around, placing both hands on the wall in front of her, pushing out her perfectly round, shapely ass towards you.

You feast your eyes on her, drawn to the irresistible firmness of her cheeks, squished together by the jeans still clinging to her silky thighs. She pushes her ass back further, trying fruitlessly to capture your cock. You give her a firm, reproachful spank instead, stopping her approach in its tracks, leaving you to enjoy the simple pleasure of the slight ripple across her plump cheeks at the contact.

“Please,” Ningning whispers under her breath, and she reaches back for her thong, pulling the string aside and over her cheek, and presenting her cunt, still glistening in a sheen of her squirt, for you.

Your smirk returns as you palm her cheeks, spreading them apart and lining up your cock at the entrance of her pussy. “Please? But what would he think?”

You watch as Ningning notices the window in front of her for the first time and you can hear her breathing stop suddenly when she sees her boyfriend on the other side. He’s still amongst the party that she left behind to be with you, only now he’s pacing around worriedly, searching for something—searching for her.

It’s in the reflection of the window that you can see her eyes on him, see the last bit of resistance in her as she watches him look for her. It still isn’t too late for her to end this—you haven’t crossed that final line yet—she can still leave and return to him as the good, loyal girlfriend she so badly wants to be.

But it’s not meant to be—you tilt your hips forward ever so slightly, letting the tip of your cock run over her slickness. She crumbles in an instant at the wave of anticipation that courses through her—her knees shake, her body quivers, and her eyes close shut, no longer seeing her boyfriend, only feeling you.

Her body begs for you, her pussy drools onto the tip of your cock, screaming for you, desperately needing the cock she’s been deprived of for months. It’s been far too long since she’s been fucked right—whatever she’s been getting out of her new relationship, it certainly hasn’t been anything like this.

You dig your fingers into her hips, taking a second to admire the way she’s put her flawless body on display for you, and in one, smooth stroke, you plunge forward into her perfect pussy, pushing your cock further and deeper than her boyfriend could ever dream of reaching.

“Oh my fucking God!” Ningning meets you halfway, backing her plump ass back into you, burying you completely inside her. She’s far, far tighter than you remember, and she hisses through gritted teeth as her pussy stretches and moulds itself around your cock. “I forgot—I fucking forgot how big you are!”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you groan back, needing a short break to grow accustomed to being back inside her.

Her pussy is wet and warm and so deliciously tight, and it takes effort to draw your hips back and pull your cock out of her, to fight against the clutches of her cunt. Your cock is barely halfway out of her before you’re plunging right back into her, chasing that high of being swallowed entirely by Ningning’s tight hole.

There’s no more preamble to be had—no kissing, no foreplay, no gentle lovemaking—you fuck Ningning against the wall, reintroducing her to your cock with faster and faster thrusts into her willing pussy.

Each thrust rocks her entire body, your hips slap against her ass, making her cheeks and her thighs jiggle, and causing her back to arch and her head to crane backwards.

You’re not even concerned with making her feel good, only using her to finding your own pleasure in her stunning, divine body. Not like it matters—you know she’s turned on by this—on being fucked ruthlessly and used like a cheating whore.

“Fuck!” Ningning shouts in response to your tempo, curses and filth loosening from her lips. She’s all ah fuck’s and oh God's—as if she’s lost the ability to form complex sentences, reduced to a limited vocabulary of passionate, lustful cries.

You’ve forgotten how loud she can get—the music still blasting through the party is the only thing stopping the two of you being found out, preventing the whole crowd outside from hearing the sounds of your fucking—from hearing Ningning’s slutty, sultry words declaring just how good you’re cock feels inside her cunt.

You watch Ningning’s face in the glass—her eyes stay shut, embracing wave after wave of pleasure filling her pussy, losing herself in the fantasy—the dirty, slutty eroticism of having her body be freely used in full view of a crowd that was none the wiser.

She somehow senses you looking at her, managing to open her heavy eyelids to lock gazes with you through the reflection, and it’s in her round, impossibly deep eyes that you see her need, her lust, you even see gratitude.

“Thank you.” The air leaves her lungs with each thrust into her, causing her voice to go shaky, but she still manages to say, “God—fuck—thank you!”

You grunt in acknowledgment, too focused on filling her again and again with your cock, intent on reaching deeper and deeper into her tight, willing body.

“So good—baby you’re fucking me so good!”

“You slut,” you hiss at her, but it only seems to make her even more aroused. “What would your boyfriend say if he heard you?”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Ningning snaps back, each word coming out harsh, her voice remaining strong despite the torrid pace of your thrusting into her slender, sweaty body. “Just keep—ah—fucking me! Make me—fucking—cum again with your cock—ah!”

The mere mention of her boyfriend has a clear effect on her—Ningning tightens around you and pushes herself back onto your cock, meeting your hips halfway with her ass. She gasps and moans as she relishes the feeling of your cock sliding in and out of her hot, leaking pussy, while her tits bounce around violently in her bra with each thrust.

You reach around her body and tear down her top, breaking the straps off her shoulders and setting her breasts free. They’re so perfect in their roundness and their size, as if they were tailored specifically for your hands—shaped exactly for your palms, full handfuls for you to grope into, hardened nipples for you to pinch.

You at once realise just how much you’ve missed her tits—missed the feeling of the taut nubs between your fingers, between your lips. Just the thought of tasting them again, testing if they’re just as delicious as you remember, makes you throb inside her.

“Touch me—yes—” Ningning chokes out a strangled gasp as you grope into her breasts, carelessly pinching and squeezing her, digging your fingers into the soft flesh as you drive again and again into her cunt.

You’re so focused on her tits that you nearly miss the sight of her boyfriend walking by the window once again, seemingly doing another lap in search of Ningning. Even from a distance you can see the frustration in his face, and you watch as he stops directly in line with the window, pulling out his phone to make another attempt at contacting her.

A cruel idea occurs to you, and you thread your fingers through Ningning’s blonde locks, taking a hold of her hair to pull her head back, both giving you better leverage to thrust into her with, while forcing her to look out the window.

“Look at him,” you say, turning Ningning’s head so she can see her clueless boyfriend standing metres away. “Dumb fuck has no idea how much you’re loving my cock.”

“Ohhhhhh fuck!” Ningning screams, your taunts proving to be too much and setting her on the edge. “Oh my—fucking—GOD!”

“Do you like my cock?” You ask, even though the way her cunt clenches so desperately around you tells you all you need to know, you want her to say it, you need to hear it from her.

“So fucking much,” Ningning’s answer is immediate, her words strung together like an endless symphony of filth, “I love it so fucking much.”

“More than your boyfriends?” You growl at her, watching her in the reflection, drinking in the blissful expression on her face as she lets the words shamelessly slip from her lips.

“Of—fucking—course!” Ningning squeals. “You’re so much bigger, so much better!”

There’s no care in her words, just stream-of-horny-consciousness yelling, no regard for the possibility that he can hear her cries, let alone see her being fucked so willingly by you. He could be standing right next to you and she would still be fucking you just as enthusiastically—maybe even more so with an audience.

The only thing Ningning cares about is how fast and how hard you’re drilling each thick inch of your cock into her, how rough you are with her, how good it feels to have you ravage her hot, wet pussy.

Her eyes stay on her boyfriend as you fuck her, watching him as he searches for her. Her body tenses, squeezing around you as she inhales sharply, seeing her boyfriend turn to look in the exact direction of the window, eyeing your hiding place suspiciously. You know he can’t see her—it was too dark to see anything—but that still doesn’t stop a cruel, sultry smile from breaking across Ningning’s mouth as she stares at her boyfriend.

“God, he doesn’t even know,” Ningning gasps, breathless as her pussy flares around you, fucking herself with long, hard strokes onto your cock. “He doesn’t even know how good you’re fucking—he could never—never—I wish he could see how good you’re cock is making me feel!”

You grit your teeth as you feel your balls begin to tighten—you know you’re close, you’ve been teetering on the edge since the very moment you laid eyes on her. But you have so much more work to do—it isn’t just about this one fuck, it’s about every other fuck that comes after, it’s about ensuring that Ningning will always be yours.

“Yes—keep going—fuck me!” Ningning shouts in response to your relentless efforts to make her cum. “He’s never fucked me this good before—you’re so much bigger, so much better—fuck—oh yes—you fuck me so much better than him!”

It’s so obvious, Ningning’s about to go off any moment now, about to explode, about to let her orgasm consume her entirely and spread over her body like wildfire. Her gaze leaves her boyfriend and meets yours in the reflection once again and you both knows what’s about to happen—you’re about to make her cum, and you’re about to fill her pussy with your cum right in plain view of her boyfriend

You strain to hold back, grunting through gritted teeth, “do you want me to fuck you again?”

Ningning has no words, only frantic, enthusiastic nods, trying her best to extend the pleasure for just that little bit longer, to stay in the moment of your rough, callous fucking and delay the orgasm threatening to overwhelm her.

It’s not enough for you though, you tighten your grip in her hair, bringing her ear closer to your lips, and you demand of her once more, “do you want me to fuck you again?”

“Yes—oh fuck yes!” Ningning cries out, and it’s now that you know you have her completely. “I never want you to stop fucking me—I want you to fuck me again and again! Please, just—just fuck me whenever you want—wherever—I'm yours just—don't stop—don’t stop—don’t —oh God you’re going to make me—oh FUCK—”

She can’t help herself—can’t help how good it feels to be so filthy, so slutty, to be made to feel so dirty for loving this so much. You don’t stop pounding into her, each stroke into her pulsating, squeezing pussy harder and faster than the one that came before it, pushing her over the edge and into her orgasm.

You do your best to hold onto Ningning, keeping her on her feet as her entire world starts to spin around her. Her legs shake, her face twists in pleasure, and her pussy clenches around you—until it’s far, far too much, and she lets her climax erupt over her her entire body.

“I’m cumming—fuck—I’m cumming—fuck—oh GOD—just keep going—keep fucking me—fucking your slut! I'm yours—your whore! Do whatever you want—whenever—just—ah!”

Ningning trembles and shivers and shakes before you—losing all control over her own body, becoming a slave to her own bliss. Her orgasm is long and powerful—she clenches around you, tighter than you thought possible, and all you can do is keep fucking her throughout, to ride out the high of being inside the screaming blonde for as long as you can before you hurtle into your own orgasm.

She feels you throb inside her, feels you ready to fill her, and she begs for it. “Oh yes—I can feel you inside me—fuck me, fill me, cum in me! Please give it to me again!”

You’ve resisted for as long as you can—your own senses start to slip away as your body crashes into her one last time. You bury yourself deep inside her slick, slutty little pussy and let the first burst of cum shoot out of you and into Ningning.

You keep going—keep filling her—your cock throbs endlessly inside her as burst after burst of hot, thick, heavy cum fires from your cock, shooting hard and deep within her greedy, grasping cunt.

You lose count of the number of ropes of semen you fire into her, painting her walls, filling it with you, emptying yourself inside and making sure that her cunt knows nothing but your cock and your cum.

She quakes around you, her own orgasm springing back to life at the sensation alone—long, breathless moans leaving her lips as she feels each successive shot of cum unloaded inside her.

You have enough mind to go for her clit, diving your hand around her hip and between her legs, your fingertips reaching and swirling around her mound just enough to overwhelm her again—to make her gush—making a completely beautiful mess of her. Her squirt bursts forth again and coats her thighs and dribbles down to her ankles. More of the clear, liquid nectar splashes against the wall ahead, spraying all over the side of the trailer and covering it with her cum.

Her orgasm overcomes her whole body—makes ever muscle tense and twitch, she breaks apart and nearly falls to pieces, and it takes all your strength to hold her together as a waterfall of cum is fucked out of her heavenly body.

“Yes,” Ningning manages to groan, strained, pained noises of rapturous pleasure escaping her pretty, pink lips. “Fill me—fill me with your cum.”

The two of you are as one—both relishing in the feeling of your release inside her—bracing against the wall, against each other. For a moment you exist in an eternity where all you know is this wonderful feeling—you try to fill her with as much cum as you can, to make up for her own shower of juices that freely flows out of her and paints the trailer around the two of you.

When it ends you finally slump over her, still somehow, miraculously, remaining on your feet, and for the first time since the two of you entered the trailer—silence falls.

You both need time to recover from the aftermath of the powerful, torrid fuck session. It wasn’t even that long, but it’s still left you both shivering from the sheer intensity of your shared orgasms.

Eventually you loosen your hold around her and Ningning collapses to her own knees before you, her pussy at last loosening its hold on your cock, letting it slip out of her as she falls to the ground. Thick globs of white, oozing cum follow after your softening shaft as it leaves her, spewing forth from Ningning’s pussy and dribbling down her full, creamy thighs.

You stumble back a few steps, having caught your breath, giving yourself enough space to truly admire the unbelievable sight of Ningning on the floor before you—the beautiful, gorgeous, filthy, young woman, the perfect picture of grace and class, absolutely wrecked by your cock, made dumb by your fucking.

Her once carefully-styled blonde hair is a mess, her detailed makeup is smudged and her eyes teary, and her tits are hanging out of her bra and flowing over her torn top. Her jeans are down to her ankles, thong hanging off an ass cheek, and her pussy starts to drool a cocktail of her juices and your cum into a puddle beneath her.

It’s the single most erotic thing you’ve ever seen.

And you realise that there’s nothing you want more than to fuck her again.

Something clicks in Ningning, and she turns herself over onto all fours, crawling her way over to you until your cock is hanging suspended in front of her face. She ignores you entirely, going directly for your cock and servicing it lovingly, spreading the remaining cum from your tip across her lips.

Your hand finds the back of her head again as she takes you into her mouth, sucking you in and slurping down your length noisily, generously lathering your shaft with her spit and drool. You feel that familiar stir in your balls and it’s nearly enough to make you want to grab her head with both hands and face fuck her into oblivion then and there.

But a glance out the window tells you you’ve kept her too long—her boyfriend is huddled in a group of her friends now, all sharing the same, panicked expression on their faces. You sigh, stroking her hair, patiently letting her work her tongue and lips around your length, thoroughly cleaning up and down your cock.

Ningning takes a break from sucking you to slowly lick around her mouth, before smacking her lips together and savouring the rest of your cum as if it’s the most delicious meal she’s had in her life.

You take a step back before she can dive for your cock again, and you pretend to ignore her pleading eyes when you pull up your briefs and zip up your own jeans.

“Have fun?” you ask, having recovered enough air in your lungs to break the silence.

Ningning doesn’t respond straight away, reaching into her cunt with her fingers and scooping out a wad of your thick, white cum. She takes a beat to inspect the way it sticks to her fingers, fascinated with its viscosity, before pushing her digits into her mouth to take another hit of her favourite drug.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She leans back into the wall, savouring the taste of you in her mouth and the feeling of your cum in her pussy. She looks utterly content there on the floor—wearing a serene, blissful expression with a satisfied, cum-drunk smile, radiating towards you.

You can see the emotions that cross her face as she comes down from her post orgasm high and reality starts to dawn on her. She’s hit with the realisation of what just happened, and the revelation that she doesn’t regret a single second of it.

She reaches down into her jeans bunched around her feet, pulling out her phone from the pocket. The light of the screen illuminates the room, and you can see the rows of missed calls and ignored messages covering the phone.

Ningning laughs to herself, swiping away the notifications without any further thought, before looking back at you, and saying, “I should probably go.”

It’s a question, really, begging you for a reason to make her stay, but you match her casual smile and give her a small shrug. “You should.”

Long gone is the anger, the fury, and Ningning reaches for your hand, taking it and holding it against her cheek, as if you would disappear if she let go.

“I’ll go but… Don’t leave me,” Ningning says, closing her eyes and nuzzling her face against the palm of your hand. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

You gently place your finger under her chin, lovingly tilting her head up so your eyes meet. It’s a soft, tender gesture, and a complete betrayal of everything that’s just happened, but you press your lips to her forehead, assuring her that it’ll all be okay. “I won’t. I’m here now.”

RITUAL ft. Yujin

yujin x male reader smut

7k words

Let's be clear: you're well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.

For you, it's just a job. You've been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.

But for her, for Yujin, it's her career. Her life. Her everything.

And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can't let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that's the fucking point.

"How much time do we have?" Yujin's lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.

"We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago," you remind her. "We're gonna miss soundcheck."

"It'll be fine." Yujin's unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn't freeing your cock from its denim prison. "They'll wait for me. They always do."

There's that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can't blame her at all for it.

What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.

It's one of the many things you've learned about her over the past few weeks.

Well one of the few that don't concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.

"Oh, it's so perfect." Yujin's seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn't stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. "I'd say this is worth being late for."

You've got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: "Yeah, but if we're late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired."

Yujin scoffs at that. "Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it."

Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you're not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don't seem pertinent at this moment.

Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.

You'd probably give her the world if she asked.

She'd happily settle for your dick.

Her hand's moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, "Your logic, as always, is flawless."

"See?" Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that's graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. "I'm always right, aren't I?"

Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that's become so familiar over the past week-quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.

Yujin's had plenty of practice, after all-on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that's now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.

And to think it all started because she asked you to help her 'calm her nerves'.

Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.

Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.

You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life-staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it's overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.

She's undeniable-you know you've spoilt her. You've let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.

But you're also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you'd be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.

"Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that," you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.

Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she's wringing out.

"So fucking-" you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, "pretty."

Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"

You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she's milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.

You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.

Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.

Whatever it is, it has Yujin's other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.

"And what about this outfit?" She asks, oh-so-innocently. "You think the fans will like it?"

"Yujin," you say, like she doesn't already know the very obvious answer. You've seen her in it all-tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin's a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. "You look fucking incredible, as always."

"But?"

"No buts."

"I heard a 'but'," Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it's her favourite toy. "Like: 'but the shorts are too short, and everyone's gonna see my cheeks when I bend over'."

A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you've had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.

"Or is it: 'but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out'?"

She's drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.

"Or maybe it's: 'the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you'd much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"

Yeah, that's more like it.

You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you'd love to. But Yujin's too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.

"But unfortunately, there'll be none of that, drummer boy." Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. "Can't have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?"

There's a challenge there, a test to see if you'll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she's right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there'll be plenty of time for that later.

You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. "Seriously?"

Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. "Can't ruin the make-up either," she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.

"So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?" You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that's framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.

"Now you're learning."

So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin's sweet torture. It's maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin's slow strokes. "And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever."

Yujin's eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. "I'm sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer's fashion choices," she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.

You feign injury. "Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing."

"Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?" Yujin's thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that's both infuriating and incredibly hot.

"You're going to get it later for that one," you warn, your hand curling into a fist.

"Oh, I know."

Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that's beaded there over your cockhead. And there's a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she's getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn't be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.

"Look how big you are for me, daddy."

There's that word, that sweet, sweet 'daddy'.

The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it's been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.

"Look how big you are in my tiny hand." She's got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. "You love it when I jerk you like this, don't you, daddy?"

'Daddy' again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.

There's another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.

You swallow down the groan that's building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it's taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.

"Don't hold back, daddy," Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. "I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum."

She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.

"That's it," she's overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, "tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me."

And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you're deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. "You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot," you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. "You're driving me fucking mad."

Yujin's strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she's pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?

You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she's nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, "You're desperate for my cunt, aren't you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?"

"Yujin," you grit out, and you're holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, "I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won't be able to fucking move, let alone dance."

And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. "So do it, daddy."

Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you're off to the races.

You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.

Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She's all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.

While she's distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she's done to you.

Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She's on your time now, you've got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she's put you through.

"Look at this," you're in her ear now, taunting, "you're already so fucking wet for me."

Yujin's cheeks burn red, and she's pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. "Of course I am. I can't help it," she's a little breathless, a little shaky, "I need it."

"You're so beautiful," your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. "So fucking beautiful."

"Please," Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. "Please, fuck me now."

You can't resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you're pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.

There's a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone's going to hear it, someone's going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that'll be it for the both of you.

But really, fuck all of that.

Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.

Fuck everything that isn't inside this stall, that isn't Yujin's tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn't the way she's shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.

There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she's begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.

Yujin's never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "

Her walls clamp down around you, she's already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You're gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.

"Yes-that's what I fucking need." Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn't enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.

Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her-each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there's anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.

It's the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she's made just for you, like she's never been fucked this way before, will never be again.

(Even though you have. Even though you will.)

Each time is like the first, you're discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.

And Yujin knows it.

There's a need to make her feel it, and there's her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It's almost too much to resist.

But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out-

"Gah-God-fuck-"

Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.

"Fuh-fuck-yes-right there-right-fucking-there-"

She's chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you're giving her, everything she's needs, everything she deserves. You're tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.

You dare to snake a hand under her top, you're not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn't mean you can't get a taste of what's underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.

Yujin's moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it's a hard little nub.

"Oh fuck yes-touch me. You love touching me, don't you?" She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. "You fucking love my body."

It's the damn truth-these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven't found an inch you didn't immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she's been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.

"Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that."

"You're so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine."

You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It's the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she's the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.

So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you're like this, when you're all mine." You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. "I'm going to cum so hard for you, princess."

There's the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.

Yujin's grinning, knowing she's the one keeping you occupied, knowing it's her cunt that you're buried in, that's not letting you go.

"If only they knew," she's giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), "if only they know how good you're fucking me right now. They won't have a fucking clue, will they?"

"Such a fucking tease, Yujin."

She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, "Who, me?"

"Yes, you, you little slut," you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. "You know exactly what you're doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you're forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they'll never have."

The truth makes her shiver against you. "They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are."

There's a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she's going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.

And you're going to be the one to release it.

You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.

You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.

"That feels so-fuck," Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. "Only you-only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me-fuck-fuck me like this."

"Whenever I want, any time I want," you're telling her, promising her, even though it's more likely to be the opposite. That it's Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she's bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.

"They'd be so-gah-so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me-how much they want me," she's straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. "I see it-read it in places they think I don't look."

She's lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.

"They call me a slut, a whore, but that's not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you," Yujin repeats, "I'm only a slut for you."

There's an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she's forced to carry a part of you inside her when she's on stage.

"Yours to use," Yujin taunts. "To fuck, to fill..."

Jesus.

"To break."

Fucking.

"Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair-fuck-my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you've left on me, with all your cum-gah-all over me."

Christ.

It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you're sure it's all just part of the game, another button Yujin's pressing for her own thrill… right?

"Then everyone would know-everyone would know that it's you-that you're the one that's fucking my brains out when no one else is watching."

You're all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.

And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.

"Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just-kiss me, now."

"You said-"

But Yujin's already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She's got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she's trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.

Now that you've got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you've been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.

You're getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It's game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She's a beautiful, chaotic mess-so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.

The separation barely lasts a second, you're lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.

This is the real show-Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.

"Daddy-" Yujin starts, and ends, as you're inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.

Just one hard thrust and you see it-it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.

She's close, and you're not far behind.

"Please."

It's barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.

But you hear it, and it's all you need.

It's her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you're taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.

"Please, fuck me." There it is again, louder now. "Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours."

It's every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again-make me yours.

You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin's cunt pulsing around you, but there's no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.

"Please," she's biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, "say my name."

"Yujin," you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. "Yujin, I'm so fucking close."

The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you're hammering into Yujin's tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. "Cum for me daddy, cum for me."

But it's her, it's Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she's nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she's just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.

"Fuck-fuck-I'm cumming-daddy, I can't-it's so-"

It's all there across her face, all in the way she's shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.

"So good-you're so good-you're so-fuck-fuck-cum-cumming-"

Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you'd be worried if you hadn't seen it countless times before, if you didn't know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.

But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn't your cock.

"So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess."

"God, fuck-daddy!"

It's the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she's already engraved on your back.

And then the silence comes, and that's the real killer.

Yujin's always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums-when she loses herself on your cock-it's like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.

You know what she wants to say-don't stop, please, don't stop-know what she wants to tell you-thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you-and it's your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.

And then she falls apart.

So beautifully, so perfectly.

But you're not done yet.

Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin's still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.

She's leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can't quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.

"I'm all yours, daddy."

It's a trigger she's been waiting to pull-the moment she says it, you let go.

There's no holding back anymore, you've been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it's no use. You're going to cum, the only question is, where.

You can't shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll-your fuck doll.

But not now, not today.

So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin's nodding, teasing "deeper, deeper, please," begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.

It's your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that's been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.

You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that's all the warning you get before you're cumming, rushing Yujin's greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.

"Daddy, daddy-daddy-yes!"

It's an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you'll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.

"So good, so fucking good inside me-all yours, all yours-"

It's a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.

Yujin's the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.

A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there's just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.

"Thank you, daddy," Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it's like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Always."

And slowly, carefully, you're pulling out of her, even though she's still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.

She reads your mind, "You really made a fucking mess of me."

"I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility."

Yujin pouts, makes sure you're watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. "This is all you, daddy."

She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she's slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you're watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.

That sound she makes, that little "Mmm" of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.

"Cumslut," is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.

She corrects you. "Your cumslut."

And then a switch is flipped, and she's putting herself back together.

Yujin's graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she's just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she's not really touching anything, as if she's floating.

She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you're just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she's just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.

You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can't be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.

She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck-all evidence of you.

And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she's got it all under control, like you haven't ruined her, not really. Not yet.

"Well, that's something," she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she's aiming for.

But then she's got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.

"How do I look?" She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.

"Like you've just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly."

That makes her laugh. "Good."

She's heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.

There's that look in her eyes again.

One you'll be revisiting once the show's over and the doors are closed.

"I'll take off first," she says, tying her pigtails back in place. "Wouldn't want to make it too obvious."

You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. "Good luck out there."

And there's that smile. That smile that's going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That's going to make you fall in love with her, if you're not careful. "Don't need it," she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. "I got you, daddy."

ALWAYS ft. Hanni

hanni x male reader smut

9k words

This used to be your least favourite part of the day.

Waking up alone, to nothing but an alarm that's far too loud, a bed that's way too firm, a dorm room that mocks your financial instability with its harsh coldness.

And that somehow, was the best-case scenario.

Beating getting kicked out of a library after passing out face first in a textbook, or booted off your best friend's mouldy couch when his girlfriend wanted some alone time.

Or even, in your worst moment, getting yelled at by some stranger when you're discovered on their bathroom floor in a pool of what you prayed to God was your own vomit.

All things of the past, since her.

Since Hanni-waking up was everything.

-

It starts, like it always does, in a tangle of limbs.

Most mornings, with Hanni's face buried in your chest, cradled in your embrace, small puffs of breath tickling your neck. Others, with her back to you; pulling your arms around her, using the heat of your body like her coziest blanket.

One time on top of you; an exhausted smile plastered on her face, still basking in the afterglow of the night before.

She wrapped herself around you, refused to let go. Like there was a possibility that if she held you tight enough, she could bring you into her dreams.

That was the first day you truly saw her.

You talked about your pasts, your futures, shared your deepest vulnerabilities, made a million quiet confessions.

And when Hanni whispered: "I never want to go back."

You pulled her closer, kissed her, and answered: "You'll never have to."

Since then, every morning always started with you holding her. Feeling her softness, her warmth, the calm rise and fall of her chest, as her exhales became your inhales and your breaths mixed together and synchronised.

This is how it had to be-how you both needed it to be.

So-now:

Nights and mornings since that promise; the sound of a guitar slipping into your ears.

It's a recording she made for you, setting it as your alarm to make waking up a little more pleasant, to make sure the first thing you thought of when you opened your eyes was her.

Unnecessary, ultimately, seeing as the first thing you see when you wake up is her. Or, to be precise, her arm poking out from under the blankets, flailing about blindly.

"Off," Hanni mumbles, fumbling around the bed, the nightstand, your face, seeking the offending device.

You stretch over her, a blanket on top of her blanket, and hunt down the invisible enemy that dared to interrupt your girlfriend's peaceful slumber.

A muffled "thanks", and she takes the opportunity to snuggle even closer.

There's the smile quirking at the corner of her lips. Her nose, nuzzling closer into your chest, searching for your heartbeat. That pleased hum she's making, letting you know there's no place she'd rather be, like she's completely content to stay all cozied up and warm for as long as you'll let her (forever, if possible, please).

It's hardly a tough sell-face the cold shower, the crowded buses and trains, the boring lectures that the rest of the day holds.

Or, stay wrapped up in the sanctuary of your (Hanni's) bed. In fitted silk sheets, weighted duvets, plush pillows. Wrapped up in Hanni; in her very soft, very warm, very naked body.

It's a no-brainer, really.

The rest of you, the more honest part of you that's resting somewhere between her belly button and her thighs, seems to agree. It's got a mind of its own, stirring to life, responding to the heat of her skin and the gentle pressure of her body; the familiar lines of her curves and the lavender scent of her hair.

She notices, of course.

It's hard not to feel it, nudging against her, steadily growing with each passing beat, saying, 'Hey, remember me?'

A kiss over your heart, a giggle into your sternum, and she's up-sort of. She rolls onto her side, still in your embrace, but enough so that you can see the wry smile gracing her face, her sleepy eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

Chalk it up to whatever you want-relationship goggles, the honeymoon phase, or just the sheer joy of finding someone who actually cares about you-but when Hanni's looking like this, it's hard to believe you're not dreaming.

The morning light kissing her rosy cheeks. The gentle pink of her full lips. Midnight silk hair curtaining her face. Her eyes.

A sweet, completely innocent question: "Having a good morning?"

She shifts, slightly.

An oh-so-incidental move that has the blanket sliding off her shoulder, down to her waist. It's an invitation that you take, a proper wake-up call, from her collarbone to the curve of her hip. Softness and warmth, a stark contrast to the cold that whispers from the edges of the bed.

Hanni-your Hanni-leaving you with the implication: 'Can I make it better?'

"Classes," is all you say, because you have to at least acknowledge the responsibility, play the farce that you would actually abandon your (again-very warm, very naked) girlfriend for the sake of academia.

"It's cold outside," is her astute observation.

"Mhm."

"It's warm in here."

"Right," you nod.

"So," she starts, bringing her hand up to your cheek, walking you through the incredibly simple, blatantly obvious logic. "Do you need any other reason?"

"Are you offering me one?"

Lips purse then pouts in that endearingly cute, Hanni way. "Does it help that I'm naked?"

"One would think that more clothes would be appropriate, considering the weather," you posit, like you weren't already convinced long before she even opened her mouth. But, it's still fun to pretend that her persistence doesn't melt you every time.

"One would be wrong." Hanni edges closer, her bare skin gliding over yours, so you can properly assess the merits of her argument. The tip of her nose brushing against your own, the softness of her breasts passing along your chest, and her hand at your cheek, then your neck, your stomach, and moving lower, and lower. "Body heat, you know?"

Her hand gets lower still. You swallow. "Yeah."

"Like when it's freezing and people get lost in a snowstorm." She finds you, reaches into the waistband of your sweatpants, wraps her fingers around you, wakes you up.

"Or when girlfriends are trying to convince their boyfriends to stay in bed all day long," you groan out. "Again."

"Exactly," Hanni says, a breezy air of finality, proud of herself for making you see reason-or rather, feel it.

You kiss her forehead, conceding the victory to her, and she scrunches her nose; preens. It's a subtle movement, the kind that you've come to recognise as her victory dance. She squeezes your body closer to hers, her cheek squishing into your chest, her other hand wrapping around your neck, her legs curling up around your calves. It's like she's absorbing your affection, turning it into warmth she'll keep with her for the rest of the day.

Her hand winds up and down, these long, lazy motions. Smooth and tender, stroking the length of you, her thumb tracing the vein that pulses along the side. She's not in a hurry; not anymore anyway. Just, enjoying the moment, enjoying being with you, enjoying how obvious you are with your sighs and shivers.

"'sides," Hanni adds, taking a break to kiss around your jawline, your neck, your shoulder. "You deserve it. A perfect day of nothing." She sounds so hopeful, so earnest, and there's a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the friction of her hand on your skin. "We can order junk food, watch awful horror movies, and…"

"Just us." A finger under her chin to tilt her head up, to capture those half-moon eyes with yours, to kiss her sweetly, deeply, remind her that she's all you need to make a perfect day. "I wonder what I've done to earn this."

"Not what you've done," Hanni says in the breaths between your kisses. "What you're going to do."

With that, she uses all her weight to push you, rolling you onto your back, climbing over you with a grace that leaves you breathless.

She straddles you, legs draped over your hips, small breasts bouncing just a little with the motion. There's mischief lighting up her eyes, that playful glint that precedes all good things. The blankets fall completely off her with a dramatic flourish, leaving her bare and exposed for your eyes to drink in.

A pause to appreciate her-to really look at her. From her flushed cheeks to the tips of her toes. Every curve, every darkened freckle, every soft, sweet inch of her-yours to adore, to touch, to explore.

And then, she winks.

You can't help but laugh.

Hanni joins you, giggling in uncontrollable fits.

It's the ridiculousness of it all, of Hanni-the girl who blushes when you hold her hand in public-straddling you with a wink and a promise of a day of pure carnal indulgence.

You both laugh until your cheeks hurt, until the tension breaks and you're just two people in the cozy bubble of her bed, sharing a stupid, silly moment.

It takes a beat, but you both somehow recover, gasping for air between giggles. She settles herself, placing her hands on either side of your face, looking down at you with all the adoration in the world. Her touch grounds you, brings you back to the present.

"You're serious, aren't you?" You ask, when you're finally able to speak. "This is what you really want to do all day?"

"Well…" Hanni muses, sinking down to your waist, running her fingers over your t-shirt, stopping when she has the hem in her clutches. "A bit of this."

She starts rolling your shirt up, sliding the cotton over your stomach. The cold air of the room kisses your skin before the warmth of her mouth replaces it. Her soft, plump lips meet your body, the small indent of your belly button.

Simple, innocent, playful. Hanni.

"A bit of that," she continues, her hands keep moving, lifting the shirt higher, tugging it up and up, exposing your chest to her eyes, her lips.

She finds her target, a tongue over your nipple, paying you back for what you're no doubt going to be doing to her later; flicking over your chest to make you hiss.

"A bit of me," she adds, words vibrating against your chest, leaving goosebumps as she rises higher.

You lift your arms, allowing her to pull your shirt off your body, trapping you for a moment so she can suck at your neck, mark you as hers, and hers only. As if you didn't already wear it on your face whenever she's around.

"Doing a lot of you."

Her eyes rake over you-your chest, your stomach, your abs. Lingering a touch too long, making her cheeks warm; colouring them with a soft blush that spreads from her neck up to her ears, hinting at the thoughts racing through her mind.

And then you're kissing her.

It's gentle (your kisses always are) but that doesn't make it any less passionate, any less intense.

She kisses you back, lips sliding over yours, the softness of her tongue tracing the line of your teeth, moaning your name in short stutters into your mouth.

It feels so right, so natural. The way she fits against you, feels on top of you, the perfect puzzle piece you've been desperate to find in a world full of mismatches.

It's far too early to say it, but you know it-have known it.

You love her. Love how she lives in the moment; how even when you're worried about the future, about deadlines and tomorrows, she can bring you back to the present and make things simple. In the least selfish way possible, she makes it about her.

(And that's all you need).

It builds and builds; these slow, dragging kisses, these admissions of things that you're not quite ready to say. Until you're both well and truly needy for a touch more heat, as much of each other as you can possibly get.

You can't hold it anymore, so you don't bother trying.

With a firm grasp, you take Hanni's hips in your hands, your thumbs pressing into vanilla skin as you pull her upward. It's strategic, pull the best parts of her (which could be any part, really) closer, prove her earlier guess right by introducing her breast to your lips, her nipple to your tongue.

A million times you've repeated it and it won't be enough-she's so soft. Melting at your touch already, so responsive, letting you know she's feeling it with every hushed gasp and shiver of her tight body.

One hand is filled by her other breast, a supple handful, spilling between your fingers, carelessly massaging as your mouth latches onto its twin. Her heart races, hammers against your palm, quickening with every passing flick, with each chaste suck between your lips.

Your other hand snakes lower, caressing the smooth plane of her stomach. You drag your fingertips over the ridges and valleys of her abs, down towards the juncture of her thighs.

She squirms.

Moans a little louder.

Scrapes the back of your scalp and pulls you in.

You're insistent, your touch feather light as it grazes over the whispers of hair; trailing all the way down, down, where you ghost over her mound, tease her clit to make her gasp.

"Like that," Hanni moans her approval, answers you with hips rocking against your hand. "So, so… nice."

Your hand dips down further, parting her folds, sliding through her slick, greeted with the warmth and wetness of her opening. Soaking your hand, inviting you to delve deeper.

"Hanni," you mouth around her nipple, "you're so wet."

"O-of course," she manages, shuddering as you dare to ease a finger inside, pushing into her and pushing out a cry that fills the room. "It's you."

"It definitely is," you confirm, stroking her walls with slow, deliberate care, feeling her tense around you with each movement. "And I'm just getting started."

Her body arches, curves into you, tilting her head back and feeding you more of her; her breast into your mouth, her pussy on your fingers. You look up at her, feel her, memorise every little noise she makes, every twitch of her body as you touch her. Her breath skips as you start to move your finger in and out, a quiet pace to make her hips dance.

"This is a good idea." You're pushing in deeper, adding a second digit to the mix, stretching her just so. She's tight around you, always so tight, enveloping you in her heat, and there's the urge to go even slower, to savour every moment. "Staying in all day. Making you feel good."

Her legs tense, toned thighs flex as you curl your fingers up, pulling towards you just right to hit that spot that makes her mouth hang open, that makes her whine. There's a plea in there, a silent request for more, for everything.

And you give it to her, because it's what she deserves, because it's what she's asking for, because she's yours.

She's getting tighter around you, walls squeezing in. A prelude to something beautiful, something only you know how to give her, a skill you've picked up in this very same bed.

"God," Hanni's breaths are turning into short gasps, she's so needy for it, for you. A slight tug of your hair, pulling you off her breast, forcing her nipple to 'pop' from your lips. She sinks down, further down onto your hand, her breasts dragging against your chest, her skin sticking to yours. "You're such a tease."

Her lips hang in front of yours, pillowy cushions begging for its partner-needing you to kiss her, now. You claim her mouth, let her be as loud as she wants on your lips; these delightful sounds when your hand moves faster, more insistent.

Arms hold you, wrap around your back, hugging you tighter, needing you to be as close as humanly possible. Hands everywhere-massaging your back, gripping in your shoulders, tangled in your hair, grabbing at your biceps-no matter how much of you she has, it's just not enough.

Pliant is the other word to describe Hanni; so easy in your hands, like clay waiting for your touch. Waiting for you to mould her into whatever you want, even though you prefer her as she just is-all her perfect imperfections, beautifully flawed, wonderfully Hanni.

Another finger pushes into her; three now, moving in a steady rhythm, that slow, cautious manoeuvre that's become so familiar. Sure, you could do it with your eyes closed, bring her to the brink and back with touch alone, but you'd miss the way she looks at you-the tears at the corners of her eyes, the tremble in her lips; like you're her saviour, her everything.

"Hanni, you're so-" you can't put it into exact words-gorgeous, pretty, lovely-you test them out, but they all fall short, leaving you hanging until-

"Yours," Hanni finishes, and that's all you need, all you need to hear to make a vow to do everything in your power to keep her happy, to keep her here, to keep her-"always yours."

She's rocking on your fingers now, taking charge of her own pleasure, setting the pace that you so willingly match. It's a give and take, and you take the chance to kiss at her neck, to nibble on the shell of her ear, to whisper to her all the things that create these little tremors in her thighs, that make her grip you tighter and tighter with each stroke.

She feels so good, so warm, so wet. Your hand is soaked, knuckles coated in her, making these noises. The muffled pop of skin on skin; the soft, sticky sound of wetness being parted; that satisfying squelch as you go in deep.

Hanni's so close. So, so close.

Unwinding, melting in your palm; and that look. The way she smiles when she's on that edge, because she's so happy to be there, so happy that it's you that has her to be feeling this good.

But then-it's the suddenness that gets you-she goes rigid, stops moving, begs, "Wait, wait, wait."

It's so unexpected, but you still do stop, fingers lodged inside her, pulsating with the urgency of her orgasm that's just a heartbeat away.

She needs to hang onto you, to hold onto something as the world starts to spin again. Her pupils are blown wide, her cheeks a rosy pink that makes her look like she's been running a marathon, sweat glistening over her, bathing her in this glow.

You look up at her, a soothing kiss on her cheek. "Problem?"

"No," Hanni manages a gasp, reassuring you with a shaky smile, still doing her best to catch her breath. "I mean yes. I mean… It feels too good."

You tilt your head. You smirk. "That's a problem?"

"You always do this, you know?" Hanni chooses her words carefully, trying to break out of the haze of having almost been there, so she can properly articulate. "Make it about me when it's supposed to be about you."

You stifle your laughter against her neck, letting it vibrate through her skin. It's her earnestness, really, that gets you sometimes; her concern for you, even now is too much, almost comical.

"I'm serious!" Hanni protests, though she's betrayed by the wobble in her voice, that part of her begging to just let you do your thing and push her past the precipice. Her eyes flutter shut as she breathes in deep, trying to compose herself. "I want to make you feel as good as you always make me feel."

Logic that you can't argue with, not when it's wrapped up in that sweet, sweet smile. You still attempt, though, "Hanni, making you feel good-"

"Makes me feel good-yeah, I know how it goes," she finishes the line for you. "But, just. We have all day, so-"

There's a point that's finished by her kiss, specific in its tenderness, stealing whatever witty reply you had ready from your mouth.

"Let me start by taking care of you."

It's like you said-Hanni Pham, making it all about her, in the least selfish way possible.

You relent, bowing out to her whims.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," Hanni nods, satisfied with your compliance. She takes your wrists into her hands, guides them away from her body to keep them at your sides. "Just relax."

It's a strange feeling, letting go, letting her be the one to dictate the pace, the rhythm of your morning. You watch her, watch the way her eyes wander over you. She's fascinated, like she can't make up her mind of where to start.

But she does, eventually.

Her gaze settles on your arousal, standing proud and waiting underneath your sweatpants.

"How about I start-" a light kiss on your lips, and she's slinking down to your waist, tugging at the string of your pants, "right here?"

A kiss on your stomach, just above your navel, her fingers slipping between your waistband and your skin. They pull at the fabric, dragging it down with care until it's pooled around your thighs. Your cock springs free, and there's this gasp she makes-like she hasn't seen it a hundred times before.

"You're so big." Hanni's in awe, her voice hushed, reverent almost. It's always been something she says, something that makes you blush-swells the ego that you like to pretend you don't have. "I still have no idea how this fits inside me."

"It fits perfectly, remember?"

"Mm, I know, but-" she can't find the words, so she settles for the next best thing, "damn."

She's smiling-always smiling-and you can feel her breath on you, light and sugary, these little pulses of anticipation tingling through your skin.

You hold your breath, waiting for her touch, waiting for her lips, waiting for her to finally take you in.

But she doesn't. She's just looking.

"Hanni," you say, giving your cock a teasing flex, brushing it against her cheek. It's a light prod to break the spell, to remind her of the task at hand.

"Oh!"

It's getting unbearable, your cock just inches from her mouth, straining to reach her lips. "You're driving me crazy."

"Good." She presses another kiss to your skin, a little nibble to your inner thigh that makes you jolt. Her hands skim over your legs, pushing your sweatpants down further and further, down your thighs, over your knees right until it's stuck at your ankles, thwarting her attempted sensual seduction.

She makes this frustrated 'argh!' at the minor struggle. Very cute. Also a little ridiculous.

"Help, please?" She looks up at you, expectantly.

You acquiesce.

"Aha!" Hanni cheers, slightly louder than she may have intended, having won her battle against your pants. She catches herself, blushing, flashing a cheeky smile.

God, you're going to fall in love with her all over again.

"Oh right. I mean, are you ready?"

So casual in how she says it, covering for her fumble. It makes you want to laugh-except you can't, because before you can even open your mouth, she's already leaned in, pressing her plush lips against the tip of your cock.

Lightly, so light it makes your hairs stand on end. A calculated tease, right hand around your cock, stroking your length. Her left reaches up, laces her fingers with yours. A squeeze, a preview of what's to come.

You can't help but twitch under her.

It's her lips, mapping a trail of kisses down your shaft, leaving a warm, sticky mess of pre-cum that she's quick to lick away. It's how she's looking at you-so focused, like she's been learning, been studying you, creating a personal database of everything that makes you tick.

But above all else it's just the simple fact that she's doing this for you, because she cares about you. Because she wants to make you feel good.

It's all of it and it's working.

"This is much nicer, isn't it?" She asks, not really expecting an answer, because she knows it'll be a resounding yes.

She's playing with you, not giving you exactly what you want, but just enough. Her hand wrapped around the base of your cock, stroking you from root to tip, thumb circling your head with enough pressure to drive you insane.

It's pain and pleasure wrapped up into one perfect package, and you're not sure which one you prefer.

You let her know as such: "Actually quite torturous, to be honest."

"But it's the good kind of torture, right?"

"There's a good kind?"

"We've got all day to find out," Hanni teases, taking a fistful of her own hair in her hand, looping it into a tight, messy bun; preparing herself-giving you a final chance to do the same.

Hanni takes you into her mouth.

It's not a sudden plunge, not a surprise attack bringing you straight to the back of her throat-it's a slow, slow descent that has you gritting your teeth and biting back a groan.

It's hot. Wet. Heavenly. You can feel every inch of your cock being coated in her saliva, her tongue dancing around your shaft, her cheeks hollowing out, her lips creating the most exquisite suction.

When she reaches as far as she can go, fills her mouth with as much of you as she can take, she starts to move back up. Slowly, so you can feel every little bump of her tongue, every little drag of her teeth.

Her hand joins in, moving in tandem with her mouth, stroking the parts of you she can't reach. She's trying to find the perfect balance, trying to find that sweet spot between too much and not enough.

Hanni's no pro at this, her technique is in no way perfect-but she's so willing, so keen to please. She takes her time, getting used to the feel of you in her mouth, her eyes peeking up at you every so often to gauge your reaction; studying your face for any sign that she's doing it right, that she's doing it well.

It's adorable, really.

And oh, so hot.

You give it to her again, reassure her, "So good, baby," because it is-your hips buck involuntarily, pushing deeper into her mouth.

It takes her off guard, but she does her best to adapt; she's trying not to gag, trying to take it all in. She's a fast learner, your Hanni.

Your compliment serves its purpose-she's getting more confident now, her tongue gliding along the underside of your cock, tentative, exploratory. It's clumsy, yes, but it's cute, and most importantly-it feels good.

She's concentrating, her attention entirely on your cock; her lips sealed tight. Each time her head bobs down, she takes you in deeper, millimetres, but still, deeper and deeper.

And it's the sound of her sucking you in, getting sloppier, filling the room with those noises, the soundtrack to your morning. She's getting bolder, finding her rhythm, building her pace. It's not precise in any way, shape or form-sometimes she's a little too rough, sometimes she misses the beat-but the effort.

A harsh suck has your cock popping out of Hanni's lips, strings of her saliva still connecting her mouth to you. She looks up at you, wanting to check in, still needing that hit of validation, "Is this-is this good?"

You stroke her hair, let her lean into your touch. "Unbelievably. You're doing great."

"But I can make it even better, can't I?" She asks, the determination setting in her features, and she's staring straight into your eyes, hopeful, "Tell me. Tell me how you want it."

It's not a demand-it's a question, a plea for guidance; she'll do whatever it takes (whatever you want) to get you there. And it's the sight of her, straddling your thighs, kneeling before you; those full lips hovering just about your cock, her hand lazily pumping away, keeping you there.

Somehow, you manage to get the words out, a rough whisper, "Take me deep, Hanni. As far as you can go. Take me all in. Show me how much you want it."

It's the instruction she's been waiting for; she's nodding before you've finished, so willing to oblige. It's that part of her that you've discovered, the part she might not even know herself. But it explains so much.

(Hanni: the teacher's pet, always needing to excel. Competitive, desperate for the highest grades in school, the top evaluations in training; desperate for you to tell her that it's her and only her.

That's what makes her successful. That's what makes her eager.

And now that you've put the challenge before her, she can't wait to prove herself.)

She takes a deep breath, swirls her tongue around the tip of your cock, dipping her toe into the water before she dives right in. It's like she's playing it out in her head, memorising the taste of you, the smell of you, the feel of you; mapping out the best way to take you all the way in right before she breaks you.

"Ready?"

"Always."

And she goes for it.

Her mouth opens wide, eyes locked on yours, and she takes you in again.

Deeper, throat tighter.

Her eyes water a little, and she coughs, retreating. But she's unfazed-still smiling, still eager.

"Sorry, sorry, it's okay."

You stroke her cheek, act like it's not already far more than you can handle. "Take your time, baby. No need to rush."

A deep inhale, and she's trying again.

It's a process, her getting used to you, your size, your taste, the way you make her throat bulge. She's slow, tentative, but with every stroke, with every gulp, she's getting closer. Her cheeks hollow out more, her eyes water a little less, and she moans.

You can feel the anticipation building in your chest, your balls, the sweet ache of your orgasm just around the corner. And she can feel it too, your body tensing under hers, your breaths turning shorter, sharper.

The fifth time, she hits the back of her throat, and she stops-holds herself there, panting. It's a moment of victory, a declaration that she's got it right, that she can take all of you, just like you asked. Your cock is nestled at the back of her throat, there's more tears now, but she's smiling with her eyes, looking up at you through her lashes.

It's so intense. You groan. Your hips jerk. "Good, baby, so good-don't move."

The look on her face, the satisfaction, the pride.

She swallows around you, working the muscles in her throat, pressing her tongue flat against the underside of your cock; it's too much.

"Ha-Hanni-keep doing that-keep swallowing-it's perfect-so perfect-"

It's a struggle, but she does it, takes it all in, holds it there-just for you.

Her hands are at your thighs, grasping-not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know she's there, that she's with you. She coughs, gags, sputters bits of drool down your cock, but she keeps going.

And then, she pulls herself up, needing the air, pulling back with a long gasp; leaving a mess. Your cock slides out of her mouth, springing from her lips; her cheeks a vivid shade of red, glistening with lines of tears-beautiful, just indescribably beautiful.

"Was I good?" She's asking out of courtesy, really. You're sure whatever dumb look you're wearing on your face is more than enough to confirm it.

But you nod and choke a 'Yes' anyway, because you're a gentleman, and words of affirmation are just as sweet as the act itself.

"I can do better."

And before your mind can even catch up to what she's saying, she's sucking you back into her mouth. Now that she's proven herself, she just has to push it even further, show you just what she's capable of.

This time, she's more assured, more confident. Her hands are at your hips now, holding you still, like she's worried you'll get away.

You won't, of course. You couldn't even if you tried.

Hanni's bobbing her head; these long, deep sucks that have your fingers tangling in her hair, have you urging your hips to meet her mouth. Her eyes are watering more, she's gagging more often than not, but she doesn't stop, she just keeps moaning around you, keeps going and going.

She takes her hands off your hips, sliding one down to the base of your cock, holding it steady as she works you over and over. The other finds your balls, balancing them on her fingertips, rolling them around her palm. She's figuring it out, figuring you out far too quickly, and it nearly has you coming undone.

And through it all, she's grinning.

It's a twisted, slightly pained grin, but it's a grin nonetheless. She's found her new favourite hobby, and she's determined to show you just how much she enjoys it.

"I love this," Hanni slurs against your cock, not really to you, not really to herself, just saying it out loud because it's true. "I love being able to do this to you, making you feel so good."

She's saying these things, these simple words like they're not dangerous at all, like whispering them against your cock is so harmless, like they don't have the power to completely destroy your resolve.

"I love that it's me," Hanni keeps going, even when her tongue is occupied with licking you, lapping up your balls, the underside of your shaft. "I love that I'm the one who makes you feel this way."

Gone is the shyness-she's so smug now, so proud of herself, so in love with the fact that she has you exactly where she wants you: in her mouth, at her mercy.

It's in the way she's sucking you, her eyes closing, her hums of pleasure every time she takes you in-as deep as she can. She's getting hotter on top of you, just from having you in her mouth, from taking you into her lips again and again.

Grinding herself into the mattress, needing a bit of friction, needing more. And that's when she pulls away, panting for breath.

"Hanni?" You ask, finding your voice, letting go of a breath you hadn't realised you were holding.

"It's too much," she admits, breathless, her hand still wrapped around your cock, stroking you gently, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, it's just-it's too much."

There's a shift in the air-in Hanni. Usually, typically, soft. Now wild, desperate.

She's climbing up you, back on your hips, her wetness smearing onto your skin, her thighs trembling on either side of yours.

"I need it, I can't wait anymore. I just can't."

The suddenness, the urgency in her voice (in her body). Hanni, flushed, practically shaking with need.

"I need you-now."

It's so tempting-you could give in easily. And yet, there's something in how she's asking you, how she's using innuendo in place of propriety, dancing around saying what she really wants in plain, explicit terms.

It's not enough.

She's already got you on the edge, so close you can almost taste it. But you need to hear it from her. Your sweet, adorable girlfriend, saying something so dirty it'll make your knees buckle.

So, you sit up, shifting slightly so she's still straddling you, face to face. Cradling her cheek with one hand, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes; so you can look at her-take in all the tiny beautiful inflections that make her your Hanni.

"What do you need?"

Always with the blushes, but she holds your gaze, not breaking it even when you run your hand back down south, reaching to slip a finger through her folds, finding her still so wet and swollen. She gasps, but she doesn't look away.

"Tell me, Hanni," you coax, your finger moving in gentle circles, watching her face, watching the way her pupils dilate, the way her breath catches.

Hanni stutters, "You-I want you-need you-". But you just chuckle, slow down the pace of your finger, giving her a taste of the frustration she's unintentionally been dishing out.

"Not quite specific enough. What part of me do you want?"

She's biting her lip, squirming under your touch-she's not used to this. Not used to anything outside of the usual playfulness, the sweetness; the gentle strokes and soft whispers. But something has you feeling different today.

Maybe it's the excitement of trying something new. Maybe it's how unusually forward she's being. Or maybe, just maybe, part of you has always wanted to hear her beg.

She blurts it out: "Your-your cock!"

"And what do you want me to do with it?" You press, stroking her clit now; her chest heaving, these tiny whines escaping her, and the way she's looking at you. Like she's getting ready to pounce.

"Please-just-please, I need-"

"Need me to slide it in slow?" You suggest, kissing her neck, her perfect, porcelain skin. "Give it to you nice and deep?"

Hanni's rolling her hips on you, grinding herself against your hand, trying to get through to your cock, trying to will it to enter her.

"Go ahead, be honest."

She's bothered. Annoyed-almost angry, if that's even possible for her. Like how could you? How could her kind, loving boyfriend go out of his way to put her in such agony.

"Tell me, baby. What does Hanni want?"

"I-I need your cock inside me-I want you to-" Hanni swallows takes a deep breath.

A final push: "Say it."

"Fuck me, hold me and fuck me. Deep, hard, slow-however you want just fuck me now."

The words come out in a rush, spilling out of her lips. Even she's surprised as she's saying them, in disbelief that she's even capable of saying something so filthy out loud.

But she's not taking it back, she's not apologising.

No, she's taking hold of your hand, moving it out from between her legs, and replacing it with your cock, daring you to stop her.

Like you could ever.

You push in, inch by delicious inch, watching her face contort, features twist, feeling her stretch around you.

It's the same every time-it feels like the first time all over again.

Her eyes squeeze shut, mouth parted in a wordless plea, and you're moving so slow. So slow that she's whimpering, begging, hips trying to push you deeper. But you keep it steady, setting the tempo, let her get used to the feeling of being made whole by you again.

"Oh, oh, oh-" Hanni pants, trying to keep her voice down, but it's pointless. She's failing already, loosening a strained 'fuck' when you bottom out, when your cock is finally, completely inside her.

You hold her like that; your arms around her, hugging her tight, her breasts squished against your chest. She's so small in your arms, so soft, so warm; her pulse racing against your own, lapping it twice over.

"You okay?" You ask, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"More than okay," she sighs, holding onto you, moulding her body onto yours. "More than okay-just need a minute to adjust. Don't worry about me-you can-you can make me feel good."

So, you do.

Lifting her body off you, unsheathing your cock from her warm embrace, until only the tip is trapped in her wetness. Then: guiding her back down, a touch quicker, harder, deeper. And there's that gasp as she takes you back in, as you fill her.

You're moving with purpose now, her walls tight and wet and hot around you, clenching and releasing in time with your slow, deliberate thrusts.

Hanni's breasts bounce in front of you, up and down with every pump, small peaks begging for attention. You're kissing them again, sucking one into your mouth, suckling on the pink tips.

"So beautiful," you're repeating it, speaking it into her skin, because it's all that's on your mind as she takes you in. "You're so beautiful, baby."

And she looks it too, even though she's not even trying; with her hair falling out of her bun, sticking to her face with sweat and saliva, her mouth hanging open, swollen and red from your kisses, her body writhing and jerking with every thrust.

Yet she remains focused, eyes glued to yours, like she's afraid if she looks away she'll miss something. Like if she doesn't keep watching, she'll wake up and find out it's all been a dream.

But it's not.

It's you and her, in this bed, the sun peeking through the curtains, her naked body riding yours, hotter and hotter with each pass.

It's you and her, together, wrapped up in each other making love like the world outside doesn't exist.

It's you and her, and it's-

"So perfect-you feel so perfect," Hanni finishes your thought for you, finishes each of your thrusts with her own hips; opening her body up to you, welcoming you in deeper with each stroke. "I think I'm gonna cry it feels so good."

Her legs lock around your back, heels digging into your spine, until you're fully seated inside her; so deep it feels like you're a part of her. With a whine that's half pleasure, half need, Hanni braces herself on you, rolling her hips on your cock, grinding down, taking as much of you as she can.

You grip her tight, one hand around her back, the other under her ass, fingers squeezing into the soft, tender flesh. Bouncing her up and down, watching her face as she takes you, as she keeps repeating 'so perfect'.

And you know, you know she's not just talking about the physical-that's definitely there. It's how you're making her feel, it's the connection. The way you're looking at her, the way you're holding her, the way you're loving her that has her floating.

"I-I think I'm ready," Hanni whimpers, "I can take it-you don't need to-don't hold back anymore."

With a grunt, a nod, and a choked 'Hanni', you're sweeping her up, keeping your cock buried deep inside her as you lift her. Your hand cushions the back of her head as you lay her down on the bed beneath you, her legs spreading wide on their own to accept you.

A moment to steady herself, to prepare.

A smile. A kiss on her forehead.

And then you're in, all the way, again. Completing her pussy with your cock; one swift motion that knocks the wind out of her in the sound of your name.

"God-Hanni-"

It shouldn't be like this-it should be impossible to be this much hotter, this much wetter, this tight.

But she is.

She's squeezing herself around you, muscles, thighs flexing. Eyes shut, mouth wide open because there's no way to stop from crying out; and her body, her lovely, perfect body, arching up to meet your every thrust.

You give it to her.

You're building up speed, stretching her wide, hips moving in that perfect rhythm you've discovered together-the one that makes your name echo off the bedroom walls.

Hanni's whimpering, mewling, whining, "Tell me-tell me how good it feels."

You tell her everything-how tight, how wet, how perfect she is. You praise her, shower her with very compliment that comes to mind. She eats them up; her lips leaving marks on your neck, your shoulder, her fingers on your back, her hips swallowing you whole.

But Hanni still needs more, needs to hear more. Not just that she's good, not even that she's perfect. She needs to hear that she's only yours.

"Like heaven, Hanni," you manage, your voice hoarse, strained. "So perfect for me. Only me."

"Really?" Hopeful. Ecstatic. So turned on.

"Always," you repeat, the truth echoing in your voice and across her skin. "Always so perfect."

"Mmm," Hanni moans, nodding along, soaking in every word that flows freely from your lips.

"You're so beautiful, Hanni. Your pussy is so perfect." You kiss her again, a little harder this time, a little more possessive. "I love how you fit around me."

Her breath catches in her throat, there's that spark in her eyes, and she's taking you deeper, urging you on. "Oh-oh. Keep talking-please-keep talking."

"Made for me, aren't you Hanni?" You continue, the steady stream of praise and admiration, caressing her as surely as your cock in her pussy. You can't get enough, can't get over how perfect she feels, how right it is to be inside her. "Like a perfect glove around me."

Her eyes meet yours, her smile shy as she whispers your name. Whispers it like it's a prayer, like it's the only word she knows (like it's the only thing that can give her peace).

She's so close, getting there, it's in how she's pulling you closer; with her arms and her pussy. How she's saying please, with a little quiver in her voice, alternating it with your name when you hit that spot just right.

"This feels so good, but-but-I think-" Hanni's voice cracks, even now, still so shy, so adorable. She's gasping, out of breath, trying her best to string the words together. "C-can I? Can I please cum?"

It's all you need to hear. You kiss her, hard and deep, push into her. "Of course, baby," you say, "Do it. Do it for me. I want you to cum for me."

The effect it has on her-how it ripples across her face. She's so thankful. So, so thankful for your permission, for what you're doing to her. "Then please-please don't stop."

Harder, faster, deeper now-making her unravel beneath you. Hands holding her in place, feeling her, feeling her tense, quake around you.

Keep going, because she's almost there, because she's repeating it, that desperate 'please', over and over again.

'Please-please-please'-with every thrust, saying it without saying it, with every clench of her walls, with every little gasp she lets slip.

Because that's what she is-who she is-at her most honest, her most vulnerable. Pleases and thank yous on her lips, a constant stream of gratitude for you, for being here with her, for making her feel so much.

"Thank you," Hanni manages, words almost a moan. "Thank you for making me feel like this, for making me feel so-"

But she can't finish the sentence, can't find the words to explain the storm that's building inside her. So she just says it again, rising in pitch each time as the pressure builds. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you-'

Her nails dig into your shoulders, the first time she's ever inflicted anything close to pain on you; begging you to stay in place, to not move, to not pull out. You feel her need, feel it in your bones, feel it from the heat of her pussy.

"Feels so-" Hanni's crying, sobbing now, trembling uncontrollably. You're holding onto her, deep inside her, giving all the time she needs to let it out. "-so good, so deep, so, so much-"

She gasps. She tightens. She screams.

Hanni's voice breaks off into a keening wail as it all comes crashing over her; and you don't stop, can't stop, can't do anything but keep her tethered to you as she loses herself to her climax.

"Please-don't pull out-please-don't stop-please-please-please-"

She shudders, clenches around you, pussy tightening in the sweetest way possible. It's that look on her face, saying everything she can't manage to say, everything she can't put into words-how much she loves you, how much you complete her, how much she needs this.

It's a wave, pulling you under, and you let it take you, let it sweep you away until you're drowning in the feeling of her coming apart around you, under the heat of her eyes and the grip of her body.

Her juices all over your cock, her pussy spasming around you, that blissful agony on her face. Hanni's so sweet when she cums, so damn gorgeous, it just takes your breath away. She's perfect, so perfect it hurts.

And as she comes down, as she rides out her orgasm and kisses your name into your lips, she begs of you, once last time: "Your turn."

With strength you didn't know she still had, her legs pull you in, anchoring you to her. Her walls pulse, her body begs for you to follow.

And you do.

"Give it to me, please, cum for me, love-"

You let go. Let the tension in your body melt away as you thrust into her one, two, three more times. Until you're releasing, until you're cumming, until everything's white-hot pleasure and Hanni on your tongue.

Load after load inside her, a hot, deep stream that leaves you groaning, that leaves her sighing, panting, joyful. Filling her up until she's complete, until she's overflowing.

You cum hard and fast, and Hanni tries her best to keep up, tries to take it all, and she's smiling-laughing even, the joy of making you feel this good lighting up her features.

"H-Hanni-" you try, your cock twitching inside her, your cum spilling out of her and onto the bed, onto your thighs.

She's kissing you, kissing your neck, letting you make your mess; your glorious mess of cum and sweat and saliva and her.

It feels so good, everything feels so good about her, everything she's doing. She's holding you so tight, so greedily, shivering with every throb of your cock inside her, savouring every moment of your release.

There's a moment of silence, where you just lay there, bodies entangled, hearts racing, breaths mingling. Just looking at each other, basking in the thickness of sex and satisfaction.

And Hanni smiles, so wide it could split her face in two, a smile that says she's never been happier.

Then, with a sigh, she relaxes, her legs loosening, ankles unlocking behind you. You roll onto your side, pulling her with you, keeping her close. She's still with you, still keeping your cock inside her, and you can't help but feel like this is it.

This is home.

"Best. Morning. Ever."

She laughs. "I don't want to get up. Don't ever want to leave this bed."

"I don't think I can get up," you admit somewhere into her hair.

And then it hits you. Something in the air, something in the light hitting her naked body, something in that blissful expression on her face.

It spills out of you before you can stop it: "I think I'm in love with you."

Her eyes widen a fraction, and she pulls back just enough to look at you, to read your face. "Careful, we've got all day for that kind of talk."

But she doesn't protest as you hold her tighter, feel the warmth of her body, the smell of the skin, the way she nests into your side. Fitting perfectly-like she's always been there.

So yeah, you may have said it too early, but whatever.

Today's the day for breaking normal rules and codes of conduct.

For breaking routines. For her.

For the promise of a long day filled with nothing but lazy kisses, whispered secrets, the sweet taste of her skin.

For staying in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, forgetting the outside world.

For more of this. Of Hanni. Of this perfect, perfect feeling.

So, you stay there. Not moving, not speaking. Just holding onto the moment, as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky.

And as your eyes start to drift close, as you sink into the comfort of the mattress, with her in your arms and on your mind, and you're thinking this day couldn't get any better, Hanni whispers:

"Idiot. I've always been in love with you."

PROFESSIONAL ft. Bae

bae x male reader smut

8k words

For those keeping score at home, Bae Jinsol does appear to have the upper hand.

Not just because of who she is-the looks, the celebrity, the whole perfect package of it all; that's a dime a dozen in your line of work.

It's how she haunts you.

The messages she leaves on your phone. The way she says your name.

The photos.

So, yeah. Despite the fact that you're ostensibly just her personal trainer, and therefore, ipso facto, the 'one in charge'; it's becoming all too apparent that the balance of power in your relationship with Bae is, well, to put it simply, not exactly professional.

Which makes it no surprise that even though you're at the gym a half-hour early; a black coffee in hand, ready to chase the one already running through your veins-she's already there.

Stretched out like a cobra; hips to the ground, back arched, chest high.

Her reflection in the mirror greets you with a knowing smile.

Unsurprised. Unbothered.

Like she's been waiting for this-planned it all out. Down to the exact second that you'd walk in, discovering her in the centre of your private gym, splayed out in a pose chosen specifically to make you feel like you're intruding on something intimate.

Showing off the sharp planes of her abs, the muscles of her legs, the curve of her ass, and that dangerous strip of skin that makes you want to-

"Looks like I beat you again, sir."

You swallow. You somewhat regret giving her a personal key.

"Just getting warmed up." Bae slithers out of the stretch, sinewy and fluid, turning over and around so she can properly face you; so she can properly present herself to you.

A glance-a gawk, really-has you rethinking your earlier assessment. Most of your clients are a dime a dozen. But Bae, looking at you, looking like that. Gorgeous, fit, unattainable yet somehow within your reach and daring you to do something about it-she's a whole other currency.

She's been here for a while now, you can tell. Beads of sweat have started to slick her skin; over her brow, down her neck, pooling at the crevices of her collarbones. And the show she makes of wiping across her throat with the back of her hand, leaving a glossy sheen.

You ponder licking it off.

Long enough for her to catch you being unprofessional, again. To her credit, Bae just hums a note of amusement, gracious enough to let the moment pass as if it never even happened.

"You don't need to do that," you say, which could really be in reference to anything at this point. "We've got one hour. Warm-up included."

"I know," Bae answers, revisiting a long-standing argument, "But I like to be ready."

"Ready," you echo, tasting the sound of the word on your own tongue.

"So that we can make the most of our time together," She continues, twirling a peroxide-blonde curl around her finger, stirring up entirely inappropriate images of Bae, and her hair, and your hands, and oh God. "I only have you for one measly little hour, after all."

She lets the implication hang in the air, planting her flag (bright red, of course). It gives you an opportunity to take a long sip of your coffee; the burn from it sliding down your throat a welcome distraction.

You clear it with a cough.

"Well," you say, setting your mug aside and putting on the face of someone who isn't severely compromised by Bae's casual, shameless attempts at whittling down your resolve. "Let's not waste any of those precious minutes."

There's this grin on her face, as endearing as it is infuriating; and you can already hear the reply she'll make before it comes, the way she'll twist your honest words into lurid innuendo. Something with enough plausible deniability to keep it from crossing any lines of proper decorum you've tried to set, but pointed enough to blur them.

Something like-"Oh, I plan on making every second count."

You emphasise, "Exercising."

Bae plays along, "What else would we be doing?"

More of this game, presumably.

The one you've been playing for the entire month you've known her, this routine you've established-you trying to keep things on track, do the job you're actually being paid by her company to do; and Bae pushing back, pushing you as far as she can.

Trying, hoping, to inevitably bring you to that point where you break, where your veneer of professionalism finally slips away and you give her the type of workout she really wants.

You really should know better.

Should know to ignore the innocent requests to 'help stretch her out' or 'massage this cramp in her thigh'. Should know not to indulge the flirty banter; the 'oh, you're so much stronger than me', or worse yet, the blatant, 'but I bet you're not as flexible.'

You should have never let your hands linger, held her close when she asked you to correct her form, taken your time to navigate the curve of her hip, the small of her back, the slope of her legs.

Definitely should not have given her your personal number. Fuck, you should have blocked hers. Not read any messages, not even dreamed of replying. Not opened the photos, not fucking saved them and revisited them night after night after night.

(Because ultimately, the main party at fault is you.

After that first time, that first session; when you excused all the innuendo as coincidence, pretended the flirtations, the touching was just down to Bae being her normal, bubbly, extroverted self.

And then, when she convinced you to come into the shower because she just couldn't seem to get the hot water to work, well-

Yeah.

Somewhere between making her moan your name and fucking her into the tile walls; you really, really should have known better.)

But today-today won't be the day you give in.

The first time was a one-off, a fleeting lapse in judgment. Won't happen again.

You're the trainer. She's the client.

You have your clipboard, and your workout plan.

And Bae…

Bae's biting her lip; blushing at you like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

"So, how do you want me, sir?"

(Bent over, on top, pinned underneath, from behind-you could fill the whole session with your long list of answers; but none of those are on the clipboard.)

You fight the urge to laugh, or scream, or maybe just drop to your knees and surrender.

Instead, you reproach, "Bae."

"Sir."

Laying it on thick; the innocence, the arrogance, the knowing in those doe eyes. Something she said to you once rattles in your mind: "Everybody needs an outlet, don't you think?"

Bae swings her legs around, tucking them under her so she's on her knees. She's looking up at you, those wide eyes and that even wider smile, sizing up every inch of you through her long lashes.

"I know what you're doing," you try, but it's not enough. Knowing is only half the battle.

"You do?" Bae's playing coy, keeping her tone light and breezy. "And here I thought I was just trying to be a good student."

A finger on her thigh, to dance along the hem of her shorts, peel it back just slightly, only to let it snap back into place.

"Clock's ticking."

There's a correct response here, you think, one that keeps you both on the straight and narrow. Not that you get a chance to find it, because Bae's leaning forward, placing her hands behind her back, pushing out her chest and arching her spine just so.

Her top stretches over her, a sports bra that's somehow both modest and obscenely revealing; clinging to her-she's filling it out, her nipples poking through like two little darts, demanding your attention.

She tilts her head, smirks, and it hits you like a sucker punch.

That's the pose.

You've seen it; it's been seared into your brain. The centrepiece of a photo that she so casually sent you in the middle of the day, just to 'get your opinion on her progress'.

(Only then, all she had on was her smile.)

A sigh, because you know-this is it.

The last exit off the highway, the last chance to say no, to keep things strictly above board and not let this get any more complicated than it already is. But you're nearing a wreck on the side of the road, and you can't help but want to stop and look.

Fuck it.

Fuck the clipboard, fuck the workout plan, fuck not giving in. You can always try (and fail) again the next session.

Bae reads your mind. "Time for some cardio, then?"

"Get up," is your answer. (A command, a plea).

She's quick to rise to her feet, smugness gone, and in its place shameless glee as she witnesses you crack and concede defeat in real time.

This is how you'll rationalise it:

There's only one way to take back control of this situation. At her core, Bae's an extremely simple person. She sees something she wants; she gets it. She's a fire-all she does is burn hot, and the only way to keep her from turning your professional life to ash is to feed the flame.

Just enough to manage it.

You step closer, she takes a step back. You follow, each step, each sway of her hips a metronome set to a rhythm that says 'yes'. She keeps backing up, leading you on until she's seated on a bench. Placing her hands on her knees, pushing them apart, spreading her legs in a V; an open invitation to the space between.

You're not sure who's training who anymore.

Putting that thought aside-lines can be redrawn, boundaries reset. If you're going to get some form of authority back, it's not going to be with words. So, you do the only thing that makes sense in a moment that's lost all logic.

You lean down, take Bae by the chin, and you kiss her.

Something sounding like your name slips from Bae's lips as your tongues meet; as her hands find the back of your neck, pulling you in so she can lick into your mouth and get a taste of your morning.

Eager, greedy, demanding; full of all the pent-up need that's been festering since that first encounter-when you had her creaming down your thighs and screaming your name. There's little tenderness to be found in the kisses, the licks, the nibbles that follow, you're both too desperate for any kind of sweetness right now.

Bae's hands are everywhere; peeling your shirt over your head, tracing the lines of your stomach, digging her nails into the meat of your shoulder. Your own hands are busy too-squeezing her thighs, cupping her ass, drifting up her skintight shorts in search of the heat that's been keeping you awake at night.

"Took you long enough," she murmurs against your mouth, the words barely discernible but the triumph tinging them crystal clear.

An acknowledgment groaned against her lips, breaking away from the kiss to trail down her neck, licking away that spot you've had your eyes on the whole time. Tasting the salt of her sweat, the sweetness of her skin, revelling in the tang of the forbidden, the vanilla of the inevitable.

It's some wonder, truly, of how a girl like her-all youthful glow and sharp edges, sculpted by both genetics and sheer force of will-wound up so utterly obsessed with you.

"Because of what you said when we first met," Bae whispers in your ear, bites on the lobe, and you're realising that maybe your thoughts haven't been as silent as you assumed.

"Oh?" Is all you have to offer, because that memory is far gone, and your mind has far too little bandwidth to focus on anything that isn't her wetness, seeping through the fabric of her shorts and staining your fingertips.

The dampness-it's a dead giveaway. Yet you still ghost a thumb over her, press down just to confirm, make her inhale, sharp. And sure enough, there it is. Or rather, there it isn't.

The audacity.

There's a giggle from Bae as she feels you discover her secret; that it's just her shorts that are keeping you from being knuckle deep inside of her, and nothing else.

Bae recites your words back to you, only from her lips they're far more honeyed, sticky and sweet against your cheek. "You said that you'd-ah-that you'd push me."

She's sighing, melting into you, hips slowly grinding against your fingers, so achingly close to begging. Turning up the heat, you let your other hand glide up her abs, feel the need radiating from her, the muscles tensing and rolling with every slight movement she makes.

You're reaching for her sports bra when she finds her voice, continuing through gritted teeth, "You said that you wouldn't take it easy on me."

Her breath stutters as your thumb traces the bottom of her top, fingers digging beneath her bra line. With one swift tug, the fabric's pulled away from her body, yanked over head in a blur of motion, leaving her breasts bare and heaving before you.

They're small, yes, but the curve, the fit, the weight of them in your hands-just right.

"You said that if I-ah fuck-"

You can't resist, really, your lack of self-control has been well established. So, you kiss her chest, licking a path through the valley between her breasts, drinking in the sweat that pools there, that little reservoir of desire.

"You said that if I tried hard enough, I'd be-God, yes-I'd be rewarded."

Words, simple instructions you've given to countless other clients, but Bae. Twisting them, hearing what she wants to hear, or maybe what you intended all along? (Who's to say.)

"You weren't lying, were you, sir?"

You don't have a response-what is there to say now, anyway? Any words would just be noise, inconsequential compared to the symphony of gasps and groans playing out between you both.

There's a dusky pink nipple just waiting for your touch, all swollen and sensitive. You don't disappoint. It's in your mouth, rolling between your tongue and teeth, pebbling under the attention. It's so easy to get lost in them, in their taste and feel, in her hands threading into your hair, pulling you closer, as if you need the encouragement.

You're indulging in her, yes, but right now, there's little you wouldn't do to make her keen. Your other hand doesn't rest; fingers are at work, pressing down, circling her clit through the nylon, making her arch up into you. These touches, swipes over her stiffened nub; she's falling into you.

Needy little sounds spill from her mouth, sweet nothings and half-formed pleas; bad things, dirty thoughts that most would regret ever even thinking, but of course, Bae only has the best of intentions. You've got her right where she wants to be; where she needs to be, and fuck she just takes your breath away.

You look up at her, feel her, and the absurdity of it all is dawning on you. To think someone like Bae would ever need training.

She was already perfect the first time you met her.

The long, pale-white expanse of her legs, all toned muscle and elegance. Her ass, the tight curve of it, fuller, rounder than should be possible on a frame so dainty. Her stomach, her thighs, her arms, (God, did you already mention her abs?), every flawless fucking inch of her.

A work of art, meticulously crafted by some divine hand; there's nothing to be done by mere mortals except worship.

Let it be known the irony is not lost on you, when you let her nipple slip from your mouth and relay your next instruction: "Get on your hands and knees."

Bae doesn't need to be told twice.

With grace that's far too practiced to be interpreted as anything other than a deliberate tease, Bae swings her body around, shifting her weight until she's on all fours.

Standing before her, watching the muscles in her back flex, her ass peeking out from beneath the elastic of her shorts. They'll be ripped off entirely in due time.

But first, a kiss for your troubles. Over your sweatpants, branding you through the cotton as hers.

"Finally," she breathes, making you swell, throb under her gaze.

Fingers hook into your waistband, pulling down your pants with ease. Your cock springs free, slapping across her lips, leaving a wet streak on her gloss. It shines.

A giggle, a raise of her bleached brows-like it's a surprise. Like she hasn't been made intimately familiar with your length; felt it buried deep inside her, painting her walls, her throat, with your release.

The tip of her tongue peeks out, just enough to swipe across the slit, to scoop up the pre-cum beading out of it. You hiss through your teeth, hips jerk forward, but Bae's too quick-draws back with a laugh. She's enjoying this, this little game of hers. The brat and the trainer, the cat and the mouse, the idol and the grown man who's supposed to have his shit together.

"Tease," you groan, your hands finding her hair, tugging gently to remind her of her place.

"Sorry, sir. Couldn't resist."

A wink is all the warning you get, and she's diving down.

No more preamble, no hesitation at all-Bae's been waiting for this all fucking month, and she's dead set on making up for lost time.

She's taking you in, all of you, all at once; her mouth stretching wide to accommodate the girth. The feel of her, the wetness, the tears at the corners of those big, round eyes, and the question in them-'think you can handle this?'

Fuck.

She's sloppy; so immediately, noisily sloppy.

Cheeks hollowing out, taking you deep, making your hips buck and collide with the back of her throat for that agonising split second before she retreats; only to do it again. Faster, harder; making you doubt the ability of your knees to hold out.

A fistful of her hair, if only to keep you upright.

She's all over the place-popping your cock from her lips, kissing down your shaft, licking around the base, a cheeky graze of teeth along your balls, and then back again, swallowing you down until you can feel her nose nuzzling into your groin.

You're a mess of sensations, pleasure coiling in your stomach, a knot inside you tightening with every wet sound she makes.

It's her enthusiasm that does it, really. She's not trying to be good at this, not trying to impress you with her skills. She's just plain desperate for it.

Her moans vibrate through you, muffled by the thickness of your cock. She's saying something, words that you can't quite make out, that takes a moment to translate: "Needed this," she gasps around your length, "Missed it so much."

An admission: you've really fucking missed it too.

"This beautiful, beautiful cock," Bae slurs, sliding your cock out of her throat to catch her breath, so she can take a break to wonder. "How many has it ruined, hm?" Her tongue flicks out, scooping the globs of saliva and pre-cum hanging from the head. "All those pretty little girls you train."

There's envy there, and you're barely managing to groan out, assuage her, "Just you."

"I find that so fucking hard to believe, sir." Bae says, resting your cock on the edges of her cheeks. "Those tight cunts, those eager mouths and asses, and you're telling me-" she swipes her tongue along your shaft, leaving a wet trail in her wake "-that it's just me?"

Her voice, her fucking words; too, too much. It's all you can do to not just grab her by the neck and fuck her face raw. (A dream for her, probably. To have you grab her throat and made her choke on you).

"Well, if you say so," she's unconvinced; not that it does anything to slow her down. Back at it, back at making her eyes water, at needing these panted, desperate gulps of air between mouthfuls of you.

The little things-her lips glued around your shaft, her throat a tight, warm fist, and her eyes. Looking up at you like she's afraid if she doesn't, if she stops moving and averts her gaze, you'll pull away.

As if.

"Bae, you're so fucking good at this," you're blurting out, because she is. She really, really is.

Wet and filthy and so fucking delighted to let you know, "All for you, sir."

And you believe it-she makes you believe it.

Everything's for you, even when she's not supposed to be. The sound of her, choking and gagging, the wet, slobbering noises of her devouring you, echoing off the empty gym walls.

The sight of it all; tearing your attention to a million different places. There's the Bae in front of you, focused entirely on your cock, on letting you use her mouth like a toy, plunge your length deep down her throat to make her cry, to make her cheeks flush.

Then there's the Bae in the mirror, the reflection bouncing off the polished chrome surface behind her. Her ass, rising and falling, in time with the bobbing of her head; and that soaked spot right at the centre of her shorts, the bullseye growing and growing with every second that passes.

Fucking amazing, incredible, too good, too much to handle; spilling out of your mouth as those pouty pink lips of hers slide up and down, drool pooling around your base, slipping down your thighs, a wet mess dripping onto your floor.

"And to think you wanted to stop this from happening," she's chiding, offended really, voice raspy with the effort of speaking around your cock.

There's no argument to make, not when you're too busy taking in the sight of your cock disappearing back into her mouth. She's impatient now, not letting up, not even for air; just taking you in deep, deep, so deep she's trying to swallow you whole.

You're sliding down, down her throat, and she's got you; this suction around you that holds you there and it's a sheer miracle that haven't completely dissolved inside her. Your hips are thrusting forward of their own accord, your hand still in her hair, but not pulling anymore. Just holding on.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, the gym spins around you; the lights, the equipment, everything blurs into a sea of white noise, and all that remains is the wet sound of her mouth and the hotness of her throat, the fistfuls of her blonde hair, her eyes, these pretty drops of chocolate brown; and it's all building and building and tightening and tightening, until-

"Stop."

It's a pain to say, but necessary; if you still want a fighting chance to make it out of this with at least some of your dignity intact.

A gentle tug of her hair has your cock slipping from her mouth with a wet pout; leaving the warmth of her lips for the sudden chill of the gym's regulated air. Bae looks up at you, panting, lips swollen and shiny, drops of you smeared from your base to her chin.

"Something wrong?"

A pause until the room stops spinning, so you can collect yourself and wonder why you're even here. "I need-" you start, but the words catch in your throat. What do you need? To not fuck your client? To try to keep your job? Or to hear her scream your name, have her beg and beg and beg, drill her into every surface possible-every bench, rack, wall, fuck even the elliptical if she's game.

Coherence comes and goes, and Bae remains seated on her heels, supplying her own suggestions. "Need to stretch me out? Make me really sweat?"

"Still with that?"

"Tired of the wordplay?" She laughs, and you can't even be mad-you're the one who gave her the opening.

"What do you think?"

Bae takes her sweet time looking you up and down, greed in her gaze, as she takes in you; straining from the effort of holding back. From your chest, down your stomach, landing on your cock, still painfully standing at attention.

"I think," she says, drawing out that word, sliding it over her tongue like a piece of candy, "That I regret not asking you to send me any photos back."

That brings a smile to your face; and it's enough to clear the fog from your head. You steel your resolve, give her the one thing she's been craving, from the moment she saw you walk in:

A firm order: "Stand up. Take those shorts off before I rip them off myself."

You give her room to lift herself off the bench, legs unfurling one at a time and stretching beneath her. She wiggles her hips in this dance as she kicks off her sneakers and shimmies out of her shorts; the nylon clinging to her skin before it's peeled away to reveal… nothing.

Just her bare, naked flesh-pink and perfect.

Tearing away from her momentarily, from the living canvas of long legs and naked anticipation, ignoring the fucking twirl she does for you, because yeah, she's fully, adorably aware of just how insanely, lights-out good she looks.

You turn to the bench, kick up the backrest from a flat to an incline; doing your best to pay no mind to Bae, waiting. Rather impatiently, bouncing restlessly on the balls of her feet. The teacher's pet, so needy for a morsel of attention.

Back to her, unable to suppress the smirk spreading across your face as you take a seat. "Squats."

Her face. The amusement, the excitement, the acknowledgment that you're now completely on board with this derailment of a training session-it's all there, painted across Bae's features in glorious, full-colour high definition.

She takes a step forward, sauntering over, one hand sliding down to trace over her mound, to tease herself; tease you. And when she's close enough, she swings her legs over your thighs, straddling your waist, taking hold of your shoulders and bracing herself against you.

Dripping already, cunt barely kissing the tip of your cock, the heat of it all; it's a living, breathing entity in the room-thick, heavy, making the air feel charged.

And then, without another word, she sinks down.

A long, hot breath from Bae's mouth: "Fuuuck me."

Slow, delicious torture has you groaning, has her biting down on her lip. The way she takes you in, the way you push into her, inch by inch-feeling every little twitch of her walls, every throb of your cock; it's all just so fucking perfect.

"Good girl," you find yourself saying when she bottoms out, when your cock completes her, turns her into something beautifully obscene.

"God, you're just so," she starts with, but the words get lost somewhere between the shallow gasps and harsh breaths that follows.

She's staring at you, deep into you, and there's this satisfied grin playing at the corners of her mouth that makes you want to do everything she hasn't had the breath to ask for.

"Thank you," she manages instead.

And then she's moving. Slowly, so goddamn slow, taking her time to feel every ridge, every vein; making sure she's got you all to herself. Her chest heaves up and down, her tits bounce dangerously close to your lips. You spy past her, enamoured with her reflection, how her back flexes and tenses, how her spine curves with each descent, how her ass cheeks clench each time you fill her whole.

It's these tight little squats, this wonderful rhythm she's setting, these squeezes of her pussy around you, the juices of her cunt slapping against your thighs as she bounces.

"Creaming everywhere, so fucking messy." You're taking stock of her; of this mess she's leaving, all over herself, all over you, all over the bench and down to the ground. You can't even be mad because, "It's a good look on you, Bae."

From a distance she'd be the purest depiction of innocence; the sweetest angel, the kind that would be painted on stained glass and prayed to by the masses.

But here, up close, biting down on your shoulder, devouring your cock with her cunt, moaning in your ear things that would make the Old Testament blush; she's fucking pornographic.

Yet, she says, "Sir, I can't handle this-"

You pause, holding her by the hips, eliciting this whine from her lips. "Too much?"

"No, not that, it's-ah. It's too slow," Bae whines, emphasising her point by slamming her hips down onto your thighs, the slap of skin on skin bouncing off the mirrored walls. "I need it fast. And hard. Like you said, I need to sweat. It's there-I'm right fucking there-so, can we-fuck, can we just go?"

Bae, Bae, Bae.

She makes your blood sing and your cock throb.

Makes you give it to her, just like she asked.

Fingers dig into her hips, thumbs pressed into the softness of her flesh, and you lift her slightly, only to pull her right back down. Like she asked: fast, hard, and you're thankful you shelled out extra for benches that could take punishment.

"God-" Bae cries out, high-pitched, a scream that has her shaking; not because you're hurting her, there's no pain to be found here. It's all just bliss, pure, unbridled bliss.

So, you lean in, suck one of those pretty little peaks into your mouth, swirl your tongue around, and she's jolting, her cunt clamping down on you, so tight, so fucking tight.

Every part of her, from the top of head to the tips of her toes, is tuned to this frequency of need. Her nipples, especially so; they're so sensitive, so attuned to your every touch. They tighten to pebbles with the slightest swipe of your tongue, when your teeth dare to graze them-any pressure from your lips and she shivers.

"That's-fuck-that's so much better," she's panting, "Isn't it, isn't it so fucking good?"

You rumble something of an affirmative into her chest, too occupied to bother with words, too busy mapping out her chest, her breasts, that lovely dip between, with your tongue and teeth and hands.

And you're suddenly having trouble remembering, or forgetting altogether-what was it really that was stopping you from doing this sooner? What could possibly make missing out on this, missing out on Bae's sighs and moans, missing out on the blistering heat of her cunt and the tightness wrapped around you worth it?

Sure, you had her (had each other) in the shower-slippery, steamy, illicit-but it had been so fleeting. Just a glimpse into what had been begging to happen since she first entered your domain, all smiles and sly glances.

Now that she's in your lap, taking your cock like such a good little slut, you can't stop the images flooding your mind, feeding your imagination with every conceivable scenario.

Tasting every inch of her, exploring every crevice with your tongue, every peak and valley with your fingers. Spending hours just learning her. In due time, in due time; not now, when she's riding you like she's trying to break you-or at least, break the bench.

"This, exactly this," Bae breathes into your neck, her nails raking over your shoulder blades, leaving these angry red crescents that burn and sting. "Fuck, fuck, I want it just like this-"

Getting more erratic, louder, closer.

So, you lean back, content to let her do all the work, watch her climb that peak. You could take all the time in the world, watch her waste away the very expensive fee you're charging her company for your time. It's what she wants, and isn't that how it goes-the customer is always right?

"This is exactly what I want to do, exactly what we're going to do every session from now on," Bae's instructing, voice a whip crack in the quiet of the gym. She's getting braver with each moan that escapes, each grind of her hips that sends you deeper. "You're going to fuck me, hard, rough, just like you fucking promised."

You can't help but laugh, the situation absurd, the words rolling off her tongue like she's rehearsed them. "Every session, huh?"

"Every. Single. One," she confirms, her eyes fluttering shut as she starts to bounce faster, her pussy swallowing you up in a wet, delicious rhythm. "No more hiding, no more pretending. Just me, you, and this gym, as much as we need, whenever we want. Fuck, doesn't even have to be scheduled, I'll just call you and you better be here ready to fuck my brains out."

"Alright, Bae," you grit out, something inside you tightening at the thought of her calling you, begging for it like she is now, "If that's what you want, that's what you'll get."

It's a contract, signed and sealed with the slickness of her cunt, the heat of your skin, the promise in her eyes that she'll be good, so good for you-or at least, good enough to get more of this.

"But remember," you say, unlatching yourself from her tits, making sure to catch her eyes. "I don't do easy. You want this, you're going to work for it."

Bae bites her lips, "Yes. God yes."

You correct her. "Yes, who?"

"Yes," Bae grins, "sir."

Something shifts; the dynamic swinging for the first time in your direction, and it's clear now. Clear to you, to her, that from now on as long as you're taking her-pushing her-to that precipice, you're the one calling the shots.

So, you guide her, guide her hips with your hands; setting a new pace. One that's demanding, borderline violent, that has her chanting-"yes, yes, yes"-the syllables falling from her lips like sweet little prayers to some depraved deity.

She's coming apart, leaving herself so vulnerable and bare, like she'd just die on top of you if you didn't stop fucking her back to life. It's so, so painfully lovely, you're seeing the most beautifully crafted sculpture crumble into dust. You're in awe of her. You're in-

Fuck you might be falling for her.

That's a revelation to keep tucked safely away, because you couldn't think of a less appropriate time for confessions. No, now's the time for grunts and groans, for the sound of her wetness and the smack of her ass colliding with your thighs.

"Am I good for you?" Bae mewls, "Am I good for you, sir?"

She's so, so good. So fucking good that your answer is a knee-jerk reaction. "Fucking incredible, Bae. Such a good slut. Getting fucked like this, used. Taking it so fucking nicely."

Red colours her cheeks as they flush at the praise, a silent plea for more. And so you give it to her, pushing harder, faster, showering her with these gems of depravity that only someone like Bae could bring to the surface.

"You're just loving this, aren't you? Getting so close. So desperate to give it to me," you're taunting, feeling her walls closing in around you, feeling her body coiling up tight. "It's okay, let go. You can let go."

So close to the edge she's practically dancing on it. She's fighting it, fighting against the wave, her cunt spasming around you, her breaths hitching and coming in these sweet desperate little pants.

You can taste it; she just needs that extra push, that hard fucking to bring her there. A demand: "Cum. Cum for me now, Bae. Show me how good you can be, show me how much you want this."

And finally, a gasp, "Say my name. Call me by my name, please."

A hand at the back of her neck, bringing her ear to her lips, so you can whisper the name you're fucking her hard enough to forget. "Jinsol."

It's fucking immediate.

The words leave your mouth, and she shatters. Fine china thrown against a brick wall.

Waves of it hitting her, a shudder at first, then a fucking tsunami; ripping through her, stealing away any last semblance of bodily autonomy she might've had left and leaving her as a puddle of trembles and shivers and pure need.

You keep pumping, calling her every dirty name in your book-whore, slut, your little toy, your good girl, just Jinsol-again and again until all she knows is your voice.

Each name you give her, it's a spark that sends her higher, makes her cum harder, and she just goes and goes and goes.

"Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuuuck," Bae whimpers, eyes squeezed shut so tightly you can see the veins pulsing at her temples. And you keep going, you keep pushing her, because you can't get enough of this-of her, of the power she's given you, of the way she's so obviously yours in this moment.

You want to mark this occasion, leave a sign that it was real, that you really did fuck her to oblivion. It has you kissing into her neck, sucking at the pale flesh, biting down just hard enough to make her whine.

"You're mine," you burn into her, in that nook between her neck and shoulder. "You're all mine."

Ragged huffs signal the end of it, the come down from the high-but you're hardly done with her. You can't be-not when you're still this hard, not when she's still so fucking wet around you, not when you're feeling like this, like you could drown in her without ever needing to come up for air.

"So good, so fucking good." She collapses, her body folds into yours, and she's giggling, all breathless and boneless.

Of course she'd be like this, over the fucking moon. She's got what she wanted, what she needed; made you promise to keep giving it to her whenever she wanted.

She reaches for you, fingers trace the line of your job, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, smudging a bit of her own gloss there. "I knew you'd be perfect," is what she says, right before she kisses you, "Perfect for this."

The tangling of your tongues, the taste of mint and sweat, and the smiles you're sharing against each other's lips when you flex your cock inside her.

"I'm not done yet," you remind her, pulling back from her kiss, pulling your bottom lip out from her teeth. "Far from it."

"Not going to let me catch my breath?" Bae teases, acting like this isn't entirely her fault. Like she wasn't the one that pushed you this far, that dug underneath all your layers of professionalism and responsibility until she found someone that could match her appetite.

"No."

You're up, pushing yourself up to your feet, keeping her impaled on you, fucking her up into the air and forcing her to wrap her legs around your waist.

And then, with a strength fuelled by lust and want and a need to just fucking cum in this slut; you drop her on her feet, spin her around, and plant her hands against the mirror.

No warning, no easing her in; she's still so wet, cunt slick and slippery. Just slide back in, slam into her from behind, watch her come apart.

It's all in front of you, all playing out across her pretty reflection: her face twists, her tits jiggle, her abs, God how they tighten and release all at once.

Taking back a handful of her hair, yanking her head back to claim her neck; all these sweet things-"watch yourself get fucked, Bae, look how pretty you are for me."

And she laughs, she actually laughs, because it's all she can do when you're gripping her hair so tight, scraping your teeth across her neck, making her feel you all thick and hard inside of her.

A hard buck of your hips sends her forward, presses her cheek to the mirror, staining the glass with the heat of her breath.

"Look," you demand, "look how perfect you are taking my cock like this."

She obeys; staring at herself in the mirror, watching herself get fucked, get filled, get taken. It's just too much. She's too much. You're too much. This whole fucking situation is just too much.

"Fuck it's so-you're fucking me so-"

"Didn't you say you could take it?"

Bae's response is a whine, a clench of her cunt around you. "I can, I can take it, sir," she gasps. "Whatever you have for me. But you're just too..."

You lean in, eager to hear her confession. "Too what?"

"Too much! Too big, too good, too everything."

A fucking compliment and a challenge all rolled into one. "Is that so?"

"Y-Yes-I'm just so-just need you to-please fucking cum," she groans, barely audible over the wet sounds of your bodies slapping together. "Do whatever you want to it, to me, to my pussy, please, just please, please, please."

You're breaking her, turning her into this teary mess of moans and whimpers, tapping into something innate inside her, something that wants to be bent to your will, to be used by you, to be treated like the slut she craves to be in this moment.

And fuck, it's addictive.

"You're going to scream my name." You're telling her, telling her how the rest of this situation, how the rest of your entire relationship is going to play out. "You're going to cum all over my cock again, and then you're going to tell me how much you love it."

"I will, sir," she nods furiously to you, to herself in the mirror, "I'll do anything you say."

You just can't wipe the grin off your face.

Thrusting into her, fucking her like you've never fucked anyone before. Like you own her, like she's nothing more than your toy to play with-to use and abuse and enjoy.

She's screaming your name-no, not your name-"sir, sir, sir, fuck me, sir"-and-"more, sir, please, pretty please."

More for her-a hard smack to her ass that makes her jump, makes her eyes water. But it also has her push back against you, fucking you back, more frantic than ever. A second smack cracking through the gym, and already there's red blooming on her skin, marring the perfect pale flesh.

"Sir, please," she cries out, her voice high and tight. "More, more, more."

You oblige, your hand coming down again and again, painting her ass with the sting of your palm. Each smack has her pussy clenching around you, her lips begging for more.

"I love this," she admits, shakily. "I love it."

You slap her again, and again, and again-each hit punctuating her moans. "Say it," you demand. "Say it louder."

"I love it, sir," she cries, the filthy fucking admission bouncing off the walls. "I love it, I love it, I love it!"

Her orgasm builds again, her body tightening around you, a vice. The tension in the air is suffocating, you're fucking in for it now, dooming yourself to this delicious cycle of sin with every thrust.

Bae, your Bae, all pure white and angry red now, the beauty still standing despite your best efforts to bring it to ruin.

She's there, and you're done waiting.

"Now."

It's that fucking easy.

That's what you think as you watch Bae unravel all over again, all over you; slipping into that sweet, sweet oblivion that you've coaxed out of her.

"God, sir, fuck!"

Hammering into her, fucking her apart; through the pain, through the ruinous pleasure, pressing her up against the mirror, squishing her tits into the cold glass.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, sir, fucking me so good, making such a mess, you're-" But that sentence dies before it even can get started, and all that tumbles out of her mouth is, "fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-"

She's fucking gone.

Bae crumbles against the mirror, and you fall into her, keeping your body glued to her back. The clenching, the shivering, the twitches and the gasps; the patchwork of bruises and bites and crimson you've left all over her.

You follow.

Something dark, a guttural grunt, and you pull out of her, this sloshing noise from her cunt as you do.

Without your cock Bae just falls to the ground, bracing herself against the wall while she gathers herself-twists her body into something beautiful.

Before you can even process what she's doing, what's happening at your feet, she's in position; that pose again. And you realise what it was: the kneeling, the hands behind the back, the tits out, mouth wide open, tongue waiting.

A preview. A promise. An invitation.

"Sir, your cum, if you please-"

A sledgehammer to your fucking soul-that's what it feels like when you finish.

One, two, three pumps of your cock and your vision goes white, like someone's shone a fucking flashlight right into your eyes, and the only thing you have left is the intense, throbbing release all over Bae.

Ropes of it spurt from your cock, painting her face with thick, white streaks. There's more sirs, more thank yous and pleases and fucks, (you swear you catch a daddy in there as it hits her); but she doesn't flinch-no, she opens her mouth wider, needy for every drop.

The first shot hits her square in the forehead, sliding down the bridge of her nose and into the waiting cavern of her mouth.

Another shot goes wide, spattering across that dark freckle on her cheek. Another hits her chin, another ruins her hair, the last sprays over her tits; all these shots just covering her, turning this fucking idol into your personal cumslut.

"God, yes, sir," she slurs through the cum, earning every single drop, "I'm just covered in it. So, fucking much. It's so good."

A stumble back on your feet, a step away to assess the damage as you slowly stop pumping your cock. Bae on her knees before you, just drenched with your cum. Bae your client, if she still can be called that anymore.

What else could she be? Your lover, your sub, your obsession, your… what? You're not quite sure what to call it, call her, other than a big fucking mess.

But, as you watch her happily lick your cum off her own skin, you can't resist giving a final instruction. "Swallow."

"Yes, sir."

You are so, so fucked.

Bae, sweet and obedient, takes her finger, scooping up every trace of you from her cheek, her tits, all along the ridges of her abs. All this hot, hot white you've expended on her, marked and branded her with.

It all happens in slow motion; she laps it up, paints it over her lips, pushes it into her mouth. Sticking out her tongue, presenting it to you in one big sticky glob, making sure you're seeing nothing but her be such a good girl for you.

And down her throat it goes.

"Good enough, sir?"

You lean down, wipe the last drop off her temple with your thumb. She opens her mouth, helps you push it in, sucks on it greedily as if it's the last taste of you she'll ever get.

There's a thought to give her more, to fill her mouth until she's addicted to your flavour. But you don't-not yet.

You must save some things for later.

Bae's content to stay there, kneeling, cheek resting your thigh, utterly cum-drenched; fingers idly dancing along your softening cock, toying with the last few drops of cum that still cling to your shaft.

You break the silence with a sigh. "Guess I should get used to this, huh?"

Bae sings, "Every single session."

"Christ."

That draws a chuckle from her, and you shoot her a warning look as she dares to kiss your cock once more. "Care to show me how the shower works again?"

You roll your eyes.

"I mean, only if we have the time."

At this point, you'd give her your every waking hour if you could. A glance at the digital clock on the wall has you guesstimating-"It'll be a squeeze."

Bae, never to miss an opportunity, "Isn't that how you like me?"

"I thought we were going to stop with the wordplay."

"Can't help it, sir." Bae's arms snake around your leg, sidling just that inch closer. "You just bring it out of me."

"Ah, so it's my fault."

"Of course. This whole thing is your fault," she tells you, donning the expression of a saint; all wide-eyes and sweet smiles. "You just had to make me yours."

"Mine?"

"From now on, yes."

"In that case-" You bend down, lifting Bae up, hoisting her up in your arms as easily as any other weight in the gym. She giggles into your neck, her body fitting into yours like you've been doing this for years. The warmth of her, the press of her breasts into your chest, her legs looping around your waist-it's all so natural. "While we still have some time left."

"Before your next client?" She asks, oh-so-innocently, like she isn't prying, isn't trying to make a home for herself in the remaining hours of your day.

"Sullyoon."

"Oh," Bae says once, processing, and then again, "Ohhh."

You blink, trying to keep up with wherever her mind is racing to next. "What?"

The smile that widens on her face is going to haunt you, you can tell. "Oh, nothing," she says, but she's got a secret she's just dying to share.

But she won't, not yet.

Bae's fingers trace a pattern down the centre of your chest, playing over your sternum, circling your navel, and then-there's that smugness again-heading south. "I was just thinking I might stick around for your next session."

It's a declaration, not a question. The way she says it, so casual, so flippant, it's like she's talking about sticking around to watch a movie, not grossly overstepping even more lines before you get a chance to redraw them.

And then you're back at square one.

"Just to make sure you and her keep things strictly professional."

ANIMALS ft. Natty

natty x male reader smut

10k words

"All I'm saying is," Natty starts, like she always does, with more unsolicited advice than you can handle at 2 AM, "for someone that complains so much about not having a sex life, you really don't do much to fix it."

"And what, oh wise friend of mine, is your recommendation."

"I don't know. Get a haircut. Dress better. Try not being a massive pussy?" Natty shrugs. Or at least you think she does. Only so much you can tell over the phone.

You sigh. Bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. But then, who else would talk you to sleep at this ungodly hour? So instead, you concede the point. "Noted."

"Or, you know, if it'll stop you from being such a little bitch," and now she's laughing, cackling really, and not once has that ever, ever meant anything good. "You could always just fuck me."

-

Two weeks and twelve hours post-Natty's incredibly unhelpful suggestion that did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your insomnia, and you're back on the phone with her.

Only this time, there's video.

So, yay.

"Help me, please."

It's a Friday and Natty's begging, again.

Because she knows she can count on you, knows that you've long since resigned yourself to your fate as Natty's on-call 'fixer'. There for everything from life-changing career decisions to helping her figure out what show to stream next.

And now, apparently, choosing her outfit for tonight.

"Help me, help me, help me, help me."

God, this woman and her begging. Knowing full well that it's your kryptonite.

"Okay, okay, okay," you're relenting, much earlier than usual. Mostly because as far as Natty's petulant requests usually go this one's a walk in the park. "But don't you have people for this sort of thing? People who don't, and I quote, 'have a dogshit taste in style?'"

"It is dogshit!" Natty calls out, already turned around and leaving you (her phone) on the vanity, facing out to her bedroom and all its hideous pinkness. She disappears from the screen, diving deep into her closet for yet another pair of shorts that will most certainly hug way too close, or a top that dips way too low, or a pair of heels that scream-'hey, I have legs, would you like to spread them?' "But!"

Natty returns to the camera with a leather belt-oh no, that's a leather skirt-in hand; clad in nothing but a casual cotton bra/underwear combination that she's filling out far too well for your sleep-deprived brain to handle.

She holds up the skirt against her waist for your consideration. Poses. It wouldn't cover a thing. Or maybe that's the point-again, you don't have any fashion sense, whatsoever.

"You're a man, and I need a man's opinion because I'm hoping to take one home tonight to fuck my brains out until I forget about this shit-storm of a week. So, you know-help a girl out?"

"As always, you have quite a way with words."

Natty leans towards the camera, bending down to stare right at you. It makes entirely too much sense that she's built an entire career around doing just this.

"It's my third language, asshole."

The insult lands softer than she likely intended, considering well, you're a little too distracted to take it. It's entirely her fault. The angle makes her tits look far too immaculate to pay any attention to her mouth.

Maybe she should consider going out just like this?

Yeah, that'd definitely get her fucked.

But, she frowns before you can make the suggestion, turning on her heels and sashaying back to her closet, leaving you to choke on air at the sight of her ass stretching out her favourite pair of panties. (The white pair with the pretty-pink bows. The one that rides up her ass when she stretches, bends, sneezes-basically any time she's not standing perfectly still. And even then.)

Anyone else and this whole thing would be weird. Well, weirder than it already is.

See, you and Natty have this thing; this odd, cat and dog relationship that's been going on since what feels like the dawn of time:

You've watched her shamelessly cycle through men faster than a teenager through a box of tissues, leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken cocks in her wake.

While she's been forced to witness every time you've met 'the one', only to be there months later to help pick up the pieces when you're burying your feelings in video games and alcohol and porn, wondering how it all went so wrong.

All this to say that seeing Natty bouncing around in her underwear with that laser-beam of a smile of hers; with all of her soft curves, thick thighs, her ridiculous ass and again, those immaculate fucking tits isn't that unusual.

In fact, it doesn't really do anything for you at all.

(Fucking liar.)

"Here, how about this." Natty appears from the corner of the screen, having found a top that's somehow made of even less material than the bra she's already got on. The gall of her to ask, "Too much or not enough?"

You deadpan. "Does it come in adult sizes too?"

Natty grins, because she can read it right on your stupid face. She looks so, unbearably hot. Without even trying that hard. This bitch. "So just right, then."

And then she twirls, leaving you to face her back, and before you even have time to blink, Natty's bra has fallen down her shoulders; and you're hating how you lean in to look because this damn app has no zoom feature to save your sorry eyesight.

Her fucking tits. Perfect, bouncy. Even through the pixels, even from behind, you can still see the way they spill.

She slips on her chosen top for the evening-a tiny, strappy number-and spins back around to face you in all her Natty glory. By the skin of your teeth, you're looking away and leaning back, feigning nonchalance and leaving her none the wiser.

You think.

"You know," Natty says, tilting to one side, hand on hip. Fuck, even that slightest movement makes them bounce. Utterly, utterly obscene. "You should just come tonight."

You're saying, "Fuck no," before she's even finished her sentence. 'Coming tonight' means 'clubbing', and 'clubbing' means being stuck listening to the shittiest music, surrounded by the worst people in all of Korea, drinking overpriced slop and watching Natty turn down a revolving door of douchebags on the dancefloor.

So, yeah.

If 'fuck no's' were bricks, you'd be building the Great Wall of 'Fuck No', big enough for aliens on the other side of the galaxy to see with a fucking telescope and have their first contact with the human race be a giant 'Fuck No'.

And that's your polite way of turning her down.

Yet somehow, Natty's hardly deterred.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Natty sing-songs, shuffling on her tiptoes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her entire body jiggle. It's like she's intentionally trying to sell you on the idea with every little movement. Make you believe that if you came with her, you'd be able to find someone who comes close to looking half as good as she does in that… whatever-the-fuck that is. Bralette? Crop top? Whatever. Fat chance. "Come on, come, come, come. Be my wingman please!"

You already have your second 'fuck no' queued up, but Natty just won't stop fucking talking.

"Don't you want to get laid? Don't you think you need to have fun after what's-her-name?" Natty continues, pouting at you through the screen.

And there it is, a study in how Natty usually gets her way-jutting out her bottom lip, digging her thumb into the waistband of her panties to expose just a smidge more skin, leaning just right to make her tits look like they're about to pop out. It's like she's got a fucking manual.

"Don't tell me you'd rather stay at home with Handalf the Grey than come out with me and all my hot friends?"

"You mean having to clean up after all your 'hot friends' and their bullshit while you run off to score free drinks?" You retort, recalling all the other times when she managed to entice you out of your self-imposed isolation and into the deafening, sweaty hellhole known as a nightclub.

"Said hot friends that you're too much of a pussy to hit on, mind you," Natty chides, and then oh-so-casually decides to drop this nugget: "They all like you, you know, they'd be more than happy to break this dry spell of yours if you just asked. Don't act like I haven't seen the way you look at Julie."

You can feel your cheeks reddening. You're not a teenager. You shouldn't blush at this shit. But here you are, falling for Natty's words and their magical abilities to needle at your insecurities and fill your head with thoughts of her friends and all their... well, incredibly positive attributes.

Natty pounces on your lapse in composure and gets closer to the camera, crouches. Drops down so she's on her heels and all you can see in that tiny window of your phone is the red of her plush, plump lips.

"Come, you pussy-"

"Natty-"

"Do it pussy-"

"Natty, if you think that's going to work-"

"Pussy, pussy, pussy-"

You're yelling down the phone: "Fuck, fine!"

Natty's victory dance is already in full swing before the words have even left your mouth. Bouncing around her room in pure joy at once again having ruined your evening. Dancing in that barely-there outfit, treating you to entirely sinful ripples across her curves and dips, pure sex on a pair of toned legs. Really makes you wonder how the fuck is she not illegal in at least fifty different countries.

You hide your face in your hands, because there it is, the reason you've never really been able to deny her:

Her laughter, her energy, her fucking shameless glee whenever she manages to get her way (which, if you're keeping count, is every single time).

She's just so frustratingly adorable.

Somewhere in her celebrations, Natty finds exactly what she was looking for. Reaches down to the floor, picking up a belt-no, that's another skirt-this one even tinier than the first.

"Oh, this is perfect," she preens, holding it out to the camera (to you), before stepping right into it. She spins around, making it dance around her hips. It does wonders for her thighs. "How do I look?"

You swallow. "Like you're going to get fucked tonight."

The glint in Natty's eyes. Like you've just served up the finest compliment on a silver platter. You feel sorry for whatever poor soul crosses her path tonight.

Natty winks. "Here's to hoping."

-

Guess what?

Turns out you were right: this is the worst place in the world.

Only, you're the sole person here that seems to think that.

Hours have passed since you helped Natty look perfectly fuckable and you're at the bar, trying and failing to get the attention of the bartender. Unfortunately, he, like every other male with a beating heart and a boner seems far more interested in Natty's little dance routine than his thirsty clientele.

You can't blame him, really. It's built in how she moves.

Strobe lights cutting through the air like knives, slicing her into this series of absolutely pornographic snapshots as she dances. And she's not alone, she has friends-beautiful, all of them, in their own ways. They spin and twirl around her; but Natty's the sun here, the star that everything orbits.

(You included).

You see it play out-the Natty effect. Men, even women alike gravitate to her, drawn by that magnetic force that is Natty at her very best. Trying to get a dance, maybe whisper a line they stole from some movie in her ear, even dare to reach out to touch or press themselves up against her.

But she's a black hole, a dark star. Can't get too close.

One by one, they're swallowed up by the void of Natty's disinterest. The shoulders slump, the smiles falter, and the hope in their eyes dies as Natty, with a simple flick of her wrist sends them stumbling back into the crowd, forgotten almost immediately.

And the whole time she's doing this, she's got you in her line of sight. A wink here, a smile there, a dance on its own; and all you can do is nod and pretend like you're okay with all this.

You inhale. Deeply.

Her outfit looks even tinier in person.

You turn away for just a moment, shaking off thoughts of Natty, of her hips and their sway and her winks and her smile; attempting (and failing) to flag down the bartender once more.

This fucking night.

But, when you look back, Natty's no longer on the dancefloor.

She's standing next to you. Arms looping around your neck.

"Natty-"

But she's not listening. Her eyes are darting around the room, searching for something-or someone-that you can't see. Your stomach clenches, because that look on Natty's face? That's not her usual I'm-about-to-make-some-poor-soul-my-bitch look. That's something else entirely. That's fear.

"Shut up, I need a favour," she's in your ear, yelling over the thrum of the bass that's rattling your ribcage.

You lean in, bend down to meet her, because, frankly, you're worried. You've never seen Natty like this, wide eyed and shaky. Never seen her be anything but comfortable.

You've also never been this close to her. Felt her breath hot against your neck, felt her body press up against you, felt her softness, felt her-

Fuck, you should be asking her what's wrong, but before you can even do that, the bartender's filling two shot glasses and sliding them over to Natty.

She takes one. You take the other. It tastes lethal.

Natty's nails dig into the back of your neck, and she looks at you, intense. Words fast and frantic. "Just pretend we're together, okay? For a bit. Until I can figure this out. Just-just keep playing along, yeah?"

You blink. The room blurs around you. You think you might've misheard. "What?"

"Be my boyfriend," she says, taking a second shot before you can even digest the first. "I need you. There's some creep and I need you. Now, please?"

You turn immediately, scanning the floor, but the lights and shadows make it near impossible to make out anything other than vague shapes and strobes of colour, let alone pinpoint a face. "Natty, where is he, I can-"

"No, no, no," she cuts you off with a shake of her head. "Focus on me."

"Wait, why do I have to-"

"Oh, shit there he is-"

And then she's kissing you.

Ending whatever argument you may have had, because she's grabbing, pulling you in, and her lips are on yours and oh fuck, she's really, really kissing you.

It's a slap to the face, and you need to reel in from the sting. Because you're already forgetting what you're doing, forgetting how your limbs work, because Natty's putting on the performance of a lifetime and you're having trouble keeping up.

Her hands are in your hair, yours at the small of her back, and she's pulling you close, squishing against you and the taste of her-sweet like candy and sharp like vodka-filling you all the way up.

Your tongue catches up, flicking against hers, licking inside of her mouth and she's even convincing you-as if she's the one that's always been into the love at first sight bullshit and you're the non-believer.

And it's a problem, how right this feels. Because this isn't what friends do-definitely not Natty and you. But still, you can feel her tension, her need for this to be believable; and you don't dare to fuck it all up.

So you kiss her back, because that's what you do for Natty.

You always do what she needs.

You're about to pull away; this should be enough to have every single person here convinced that you're hers and she's yours. But Natty's already sliding her tongue back in your mouth, pleading, "Keep going," the moment a gap opens between your lips; and you're diving back into the kiss without a second thought.

And then you hear it.

A flash of a camera.

A cheer.

A whistle.

Julie, Haneul, Belle-Natty's friends, staring at you like proud fairy godmothers witnessing their own magic at work.

You break the kiss. You look down at Natty.

She giggles.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

"There is no creep, is there?"

Natty shrugs, looks up at you, and she actually looks-what is this? Shy? Embarrassed?

"There could've been," she says, her eyes wide and innocent, a mask. You see through her like you should have when she first wrapped her arms around your neck. Oh sure, like she's ever been innocent for a second in her entire life.

She's far too smug for that.

You roll your eyes. You feel like every other idiot that's ever fallen for a bat of her lashes and a peek at her tits. Hope is a hell of a drug, especially when Natty's the dealer. And yet, despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirks up. "You're fucking insane."

"Maybe." There's a long pause. She's staring at your mouth. She presses a finger to your sternum. "But I had to do something."

It takes a second. What?

What does that mean?

You stare at Natty, lick your lips. Her taste still lingers.

"Ask yourself the same question I've been asking myself for months now," she says, louder this time, her voice cutting through the noise of the club and hitting your ears with a sobering clarity.

You know what she's going to say-what she's going to ask before she's even opened her mouth. You've been asking yourself the same thing too.

So, swallow hard, try to ignore the way Natty's friends have gone quiet. Try to ignore Natty's hand still resting against your chest, her eyes burning a hole right through you.

"Why haven't we had sex yet?"

The blood's rushing to your cheeks; the music's too loud, the lights too bright, and the room's suddenly spinning around you like a carousel.

Fucking embarrassing.

But Natty doesn't crack a smile. She just looks up at you. Hopeful. Searching you, searching your eyes for an actual answer; and you already know what it is.

"Because, Natty, we're friends." You offer up a weak smile, hoping against hope that she'll buy it.

But she shakes her head. "Oh, please. Like that's ever stopped anyone before. Besides, if you want to put a label on it, call it whatever the fuck you want. I just know what I need. Do you?"

You sigh. She gets closer. And closer.

Until your nose is brushing hers. Until her breath is hot on your face, until your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your ears. Until her hand is sliding down, down, down, until it's resting over your pants and oh, oh no, you're straining.

You gasp. She smirks.

"See? You want it too. And I know you do, because, sweetie, your cock's practically begging me to pull it out and shove it between my tits right here in front of everyone."

She just throws it out there, so casually, so bluntly, she might as well be talking about the weather. And maybe, maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just Natty being Natty, but fuck you can't do anything but stay frozen still.

You're letting her hand linger. You're letting her touch you like she's got every right in the world. You're letting her because there's a part of you-the part that's growing by the second-that wants to see just how far she'll take this.

"So, what is the real reason, ba-by?"

Because you're in love with her. You're in love with her, and you can't just have casual sex with someone you're in love with because it will ruin you.

But you don't say that. Instead, you just tell her: "Timing."

That makes her laugh. Has her closing what little gap remained between your bodies, until her tits are flush against your chest, and you're coming to the conclusion that, yes, you did help her pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.

Perfectly, hopelessly, fuckable.

"Well," she says, and she's pulling you back down again and shutting you up with yet another kiss. "We've got all the time in the world now, don't we?"

-

You've been here before.

Many, many times before.

You installed the showerhead and fixed all the cabinets yourself. Even secured the lock that you're now unlocking with the digits that you coded.

But somehow, it feels like a first.

First time you've kissed her in the back of a car, pushed your hand up her skirt, felt the heat of her against your fingertips. First time you've pinned her against the wall of an elevator, made her feel just how desperate you were for her against her thigh, made her promise to be so good for you when you got to her door.

First time being pulled through the threshold, hands at your chest, tearing your shirt off you before you've even stepped foot in her apartment. Had her smiling against your mouth, because she's won, again, and you can't even bother to argue because you've lost to her so many times now that this shouldn't be so surprising.

What is surprising though is how you're naked first.

"Terrible, terrible taste." Natty's clicking her tongue as your shoes, your shirt, your pants are scattered along the floor behind you. "We'll have to fix that."

And then she's moving on, hands clawing down your stomach to land at the waistband of your underwear, hooking her thumbs in and yanking down. You're so obviously hard-you've barely made any effort to hide it from her-fuck, you pretty much flagged down the taxi with it.

"Holy fuck," is the first thing out of Natty's mouth when she takes a hold of you, feeling the naked weight of you in her palm. "You're really not messing around, are you? I was expecting-"

"A sad, lonely little thing," you finish for her, because you've heard it before. "Yeah, you like to mention it a lot."

But Natty's not laughing now.

She's just staring. Almost reverently. She decides, her voice a little raspy, tinted with an apprehension that you never knew she was capable of mustering, "I like it. It's... massive."

You lean in, pressing your mouth against hers because if she's going to say that, you're going to kiss her, again and again, and there's a strong possibility you're never going to stop.

She whimpers, gasps into your mouth, says your name for the first time-not some nickname, not a jab or an insult. Just your name, in your ears, like it's something sacred.

You're not a saint. You can't ignore that.

Your cock jumps in her hand, and as if on instinct, she strokes you.

It's slow, purposeful. She's too good at this. Knows the right pressure, where to twist and wind her wrist. How to sweep her thumb over the tip, smear pre-cum over your skin, and this entire time she's staring down at your cock like she's discovered something new.

"This is going to ruin me, isn't it?" she whispers, and you nod, because your voice is lodged in your throat and she's stealing the air from your lungs. "Going to fit so fucking nicely inside me. Fuck it's going to stretch me."

You groan, collapse your weight into Natty, press your lips against the column of her throat.

Both hands now, one underneath, toying with your balls, balancing them in her fingers, and the other doing its best to squeeze, to pump, to make you fall for her with every stroke.

"I can't wait to ride this," Natty kisses these words into your cheek, your jaw, leaves these marks all over your collarbone. "I wonder if I can fit it down my throat. God, can you imagine what it'll look like between my tits?"

And that makes your cock throb.

Because face it, Natty has always had a way of getting into your head; is far too dangerous with her words, and she's all too willing to abuse this power she has over you to get you do what she wants, which is now, apparently, fucking her senseless.

You let her, let her build and build this pressure, let it coil inside you, tighter and tighter. Until the need to feel her, all of her, is too much to handle.

Until you grab her, take her by the shoulders, push her-not hard, but firmly-against the nearest wall.

You're not gentle about it, because Natty doesn't want gentle. She wants rough, she wants passionate, she wants to be fucked and have her cunt worshipped by way of complete ruin.

She's told you as much.

"That's more like it," Natty bites into your ear, grips your shoulders. She follows your eyes. "Let me guess, my tits?"

So, maybe she has caught you looking once or twice. Either way, you don't care much for her top anymore, it's served its purpose. You take a fistful of it and pull, ripping it right off her and tossing it to the floor with everything else that's kept the two of you from tearing each other apart.

"Better?" Natty poses for you, puts her tits on display-and yeah, you were right all along. Fucking immaculate.

You take a hold of one, palm it; fill your hand with flesh, twinge those dark, plump nipples, because of course you're going to. You're going to pinch and squeeze and suck on them. You're going to mark her like she's already done to you. Mark them, with your teeth, with your tongue. Fuck, you're going to make them yours.

But for now, you're just going to slap them, because you want to watch them jiggle up close.

You laugh. Natty does too.

"Much better."

And with that, you're back on her. Kisses that are sloppy, wet, and filled with all the pent-up want that's been simmering for months. You don't even know where to begin with Natty, but you start with her mouth. It's a good place. It's always a good place with Natty.

Her hand doesn't stop moving, can't, won't. The friction is heaven; you just let her touch you, fuck her hand while you indulge in her tits. Get to know the weight of them, the balance, the softness.

A sigh into your ear as your tongue finally finds her breasts, deep and messy, sliding over her nipple-she's already so sensitive, just a flick and she's gasping. You're not even trying to be precise anymore, not that Natty needs it, not that she needs anything but for you to enjoy yourself against her.

It all makes the room seem smaller, the walls close, surrounding you with the scent-cinnamon and sweat and something else that's just her.

"See this is why fucking me is such a great idea," she slurs against your shoulder, hand tightening, stroking you harder, faster.

You mumble an affirmative into her breast. It's a miracle you can still stand upright.

"Isn't this so much better than like everything else? Anyone else?" She sighs, breathy, sweet sounds, as she takes you by the wrist, guides your hand southwards.

Fingertips graze her stomach, trace around her belly button and lower; until you're digging into her skirt and feeling the heat rise off her skin. She's soaked right through her panties, dripping with it. Another place for your tongue to land.

"We can just be fucking honest with each other," Natty's explaining, eyes tearing when your finger pads her clit, pressing down just right. "You already told me all the things you hate. All the things your bitch exes never let you do." And she smiles, wicked. "Never had the tits to give you."

Christ.

"And I can get you to fuck me exactly how I want with this big, fucking cock," Natty finishes. "We're a perfect fucking match."

It's at that moment you find the zipper of her skirt, tugging it down, watching it fall to the feet. Leaving Natty to step out of the tiny scrap of fabric she calls her panties; abandoning the sticky mess of cotton.

You take a step back, unlatch your lips from her tits, because you need to see it. Need to finally see her, see your Natty, see the Natty you've never allowed yourself to look at.

So, take your time, drink her in-because the way she's standing there, the way she's touching herself now; biting her lip, sighing your name. All but saying, 'Look all you want, but don't you dare look away'.

Look at the arch of her neck, the red you've left there, that trail you've burned down to her tits. Bruised and swollen from your tongue, your kisses, and yet still not marked enough. Follow the curve of her hips; how they flare out from her waist, the plush squish of her ass cheeks against the wall behind her.

You want to kiss her, from the tips of her toes to the top of head; all of her, every part of her, because now she's going to finally let you.

Because now you're going to fuck her until all she knows is you, going to make her scream your name, going to make her beg for you to fill her with your cock and cum and never ever leave her cunt empty again.

That's the plan, anyway.

But Natty's got plans of her own.

"Didn't you say," Natty begins, sighing, circling her cunt in a rhythm that you're dying to recreate. She licks her lips. "That your last ex refused to suck that lovely, magnificent cock of yours?

"Yeah," you stammer, at a loss for breath at just the sight of it all. "And weren't you trying to find someone to fuck your brains out?"

Natty's eyes light up; and there's that easy, charming grin that knocks you right off your feet. "You've always been such a good listener."

-

Natty's plotting to ruin you.

It's the only possible explanation for the way she's looking at you right now-on her knees, at the foot of her bed, flanked by walls painted an ugly shade of pastel pink and Natty's tits, sandwiching your cock.

You'd imagined it, thought about it when you shouldn't have been thinking about it. Whenever she brought you to watch her perform, whenever she sent you pictures of her outfit of the day. But your eyes always went there. Straight to Natty's tits, every time.

You knew they were big.

You've felt them, on accident (though they don't seem like accidents anymore).

But now, to have them enveloping your cock, drowning your shaft in their softness, and to have her, staring at your face with so much fucking excitement as she gives you everything you've ever wanted-it's surreal.

You're dying to paint them white.

"Looks like you're already about to fall apart, baby," she teases, and it's even worse now that she's calling you these sweet names, saying them like she's always wanted to, like she's finally letting herself. "Couldn't wait, could you?"

"Fuck, Natty-" you breathe out, your hands finding her hair, tightening, because that's all you can manage to do when Natty's in control. Like she's always been.

"Mmhmm," she hums, keeping her eyes on you, making sure you're watching, even as her tongue flicks out to taste you. A slow, taunting lick to make you buck your hips, desperate to feel the suction of her lips. "You must have been dreaming about this, huh?"

You don't bother lying. She already knows the answer. "Every. Fucking. Night."

Natty's smile spreads across her face, and she rewards you with a kiss, pressing her lips down onto the head of your cock; before sliding them lower, eyes fluttering shut with the first taste of you. "Well, what took you so long? All you needed to do was show me your cock and I'd have been happy to do it whenever you want me to. Happy for you to use my tits as your cum rag. You know that, right?"

She moves; and the sight of it alone-Natty's tits wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down, hypnotising you with the flicker of her nipples-up and down, up and down. It's merciless, unrelenting, and she keeps talking, keeps kissing these sweet little words into your cock that makes your hips jerk, trying to fuck her tits faster, harder.

"Look at how perfect you look," Natty keeps going, "how your cock fits so snug."

The sounds she's tearing from your throat as her tits take you, and she's barely even started.

"But we can do better, can't we?"

Her pace picks up, and with it, the tightness of your grip on her hair. She's pushing the ample mounds together, squeezing, putting her whole body into it, into this new art she's pioneering. Driving you insane with just her breasts, making you swell between them, throbbing as she works you over.

"So big," she's panting from just the effort, the bounce, bounce, bounce of it all, "I can feel you getting so much bigger."

Everything's going too fast, her tits are too soft, her lips on you too hot, and she's drooling, her spit dripping down onto your cock. You want to tell her to stop, that you can't take it, but Natty just keeps going.

"Fuck," Natty mewls, pinching her own nipples, for you, for her. Pinching and rolling them, making them nice and stiff and swollen. "Let me just try and-"

She cranes her head, bends; takes your cock deeper into the warm, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue darts out licks your cock, gets that sweet spot on the underside, makes you shake underneath her.

Natty holds you there, even as you groan, even as your hips rise; just licks, spits, sucks. Her mouth moving up and down on you, making a mess down your shaft, down her tits. Taking you deeper, deeper, until you're fucking her face.

She moans around you as your hips buck and you push deep, desperate for it. Her eyes water, her cheeks hollow, and she's got you. You're in her mouth and she's loving it. Loving the power she has over you, loving giving you what she wants, loving how you're pulling her by the hair, desperate to feed her more of your cock into her throat.

Like your entire relationship has been building up to this moment-to Natty's tits wrapped around you, her mouth all over you, her eyes on yours, watching as you fuck her face.

"Fuck, Natty," you grunt, your voice barely recognisable. "What the fuck-"

But Natty's just smiling, you're fucking that smug little smile on her lips, and she's taunting you. "Come on baby, keep going, keep going."

It's utterly obscene-the smack of her lips around your cock, her slobbering all over you, her gagging, her moaning around you, looking up at you and asking, "Is that all you've got?"

You're so close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Moving her tits faster, faster, and you're about to blow your load all over Natty's pretty face, her chest.

But she keeps talking.

Even as you stuff her cheeks, even as you muffle her, "None of those other skinny bitches could do this, could they, could handle this big, fat cock?"

Even as you force her down, pull her by the hair, "You've been so obsessed with my body, so obsessed with my tits, haven't you?"

Even as her tits slide off you and your cock smacks her across her cheek, "I always saw the way you looked at them, fuck I was showing them off for you, you just took too fucking long to notice."

She won't stop fucking talking.

You finally snap. "God, are you ever going to stop?"

But Natty just laughs, bats her lashes. Slides her tongue from your base to your tip. "Maybe you should find something to gag me with."

Your hand wraps around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes go wide, to make her mouth pop open. She rolls out her tongue for you, and you know what she expects you to do, what she expects you to fill her mouth with.

But you don't-instead, you fill it with your kiss.

It's deep, it's bruising, it's saying 'fuck you' in the sweetest way possible, without uttering a single syllable. Natty laughs against your mouth, a 'fuck you' right back with her teeth, biting down on your lower lip. Not breaking skin-not yet-but the promise is there.

Her hand leaves your cock to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to her, her mouth eager for yours, and you don't even think twice before you hoist her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Giggling again-another sound that's going to be your undoing-before you're both stumbling back onto her bed.

The mattress dips under the weight of your bodies falling back into it. Natty straddles you, presses her cunt down onto your thighs. So wet you can feel it on your thigh, leaving your skin sticky and stained with her. Your hands move to her hips, dragging her closer, so you can feel the friction grinding against your cock, making you ache.

She breaks your kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide-seeing her pant like this, it's not even fair. She's just so fucking beautiful, like a painting you're afraid to touch because you might smudge it.

You tell her as much.

She blinks. Blushes.

Grins.

"You," Natty breathes, her hand trailing down your chest, finding your heartbeat, resting there for a beat, two, "are so fucking in love with me."

You don't argue because she's right.

Her hand slides up your arms, nails dig in and she's got your wrists, pinning them over your head. You let her. Let her grind herself against your cock, feel the warm, wet heat of her cunt against the tip.

She takes her sweet time, melting herself into you, pressing her tits into your chest, and you can feel her heart racing against yours.

She whispers, "God, I've waited so fucking long for this."

You can't even form a coherent thought, so you just grunt.

"I've dreamt about this so much," she continues, breathless words sending shivers down your spine. "Your cock, fuck, it's just as perfect as I imagined. And now, it's all mine."

And then she does it-she sinks down onto you, slow and sweet, her pussy taking you in inch by glorious inch. You groan into her shoulder, your eyes shut as Natty's tight heat surrounds you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before; sure there's been others but something about Natty's cunt is so intense it's almost painful.

"So tight," you grit out, the words torn from your chest like they're made of glass. She just laughs, low, sultry, and starts to move.

It's a dance, a rhythm that's been building between the two of you for what feels like an eternity. She's rocking her hips back and forth in this torturous grind. Fucking you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, like she needs to make the most of it. Like you're going to vanish into thin air the second she lets you go.

"I knew you'd feel this good," Natty sighs into your neck, already surrendering to your cock. "Fuck, I knew it-why did you keep this from me?"

You can't answer, not really.

You're too lost in the feel of her, too consumed by the way she's moving on top of you. Every inch of her body is pressed against yours, and she's so warm, so alive, that you can't think of anything but how Natty's finally letting you in. How she's letting you make her whole.

But it's too much. Natty's cunt, tight and wet, fucking you so slow it's a fucking crime. Pinning you down, a butterfly on a board spread out, displayed, unable to do anything but take her sweet, sweet punishment. And she's whispering it in your ear, grinding down, rolling her hips, "Fuck you. Fuck you for keeping this from me," with every stroke.

She's doing it on purpose, you're sure of it. Driving you crazy, making you beg, making you want it more than you've ever wanted anything in your life. Your hips jerk up to meet her, trying to speed things up, to get that friction you need, but Natty just pushes down on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

So you tell her, "This is fucking torture."

Natty just smirks, her hips never stilling. "Is it?" she asks, as if this all isn't intentional. Like she doesn't have some grand plan to ensure you never forget the things her cunt can do to you. "Do something about it then."

So, you do.

It takes more effort than you'll ever admit, but you break her grip on your wrists, grab her hips, and flip her over, sending her sprawling onto the bed, face down.

The squeal from her. It's music.

How her eyes go wide when you treat her like a ragdoll, how her tits juggle and bounce, smacking the mattress. And when you push down into her, slamming your hips into her ass, how she arches back into you, her back bowing like a fucking violin.

"Yes!" She cries, fucking cheers into the mattress, like she's been waiting for this-for you to have had enough of her shit and take her without asking. "Yes, yes, yes-"

You hover over her, throb inside her. "Is this what you fucking wanted?"

Natty sighs into the bedsheets, urging her hips against you, begging without words, begging for you to do more.

"You want it rough, baby?"

"Yeah," Natty says, pushing back against you again, nodding immediately. "If you can."

Still with the provocations, unable to resist pressing at your buttons.

You grab her hair, yank it back so she's staring at you, force her to look at you. And you fuck her hard. Fuck her like you've wanted to since the first time she walked into your life and decided to make it all about her.

You fill her with deep, long strokes, fill the room with the smacks of your hips colliding against her, of your cock thrusting into her cunt again and again.

She claws at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to push back against you. But you're too strong, too desperate.

You pound into her, impale her with your cock, watch her face twist in pleasure, in pain. You're fucking her like you're trying to break her, like she asked. Trying to solve her-how hard can she take it, how deep, how fast.

But Natty won't give you an answer, she just takes it all-every inch, ever pump into her sopping wet cunt. Just grins and takes every bit of your need, your frustration. A bottomless pit of pleasure, begging for more with every whine, every little noise she makes that's not quite a scream but is so close that it rattles your brain.

And when you finally let go of her hair, Natty's licking her lips, and without even a care for what it does to you, she coaxes, "You can do better."

You don't know how she can talk right now, how she can even think with your cock so deep inside her, but something about the way she says it makes you want to test the limits of her ability to stay coherent.

But first, there's the problem of her ass.

"Let's see about that," you murmur, dragging your hand down her spine, feeling the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and coming to a stop at her perfectly rounded ass. It's a masterpiece, a work of art, and you've always had a bit of an artist's soul.

You do what comes naturally.

A spank against Natty's ass. Hard, hard enough to make her yelp.

Again-another slap, another yelp, louder, better.

You keep fucking her, keep spanking her, keep watching red bloom across her cheeks and Natty squirm underneath you. The whines get louder, her cunt gets wetter, but it's still not enough to dull that smug look on her face.

"Fuck yes," Natty gasps, raises her ass, presenting it to you like a trophy for you to claim. "I always knew you had it in you."

You grab her hips harder, your knuckles white, your hand a blur as it connects with her ass. It's so explicit, the sound of it in the quiet of Natty's apartment-each spank echoing through the room like a gunshot.

But Natty just takes it, her body jolting with each hit, her cunt tensing and tightening around you.

"God, don't fucking stop," Natty sputters, tears of pained pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes. "You're using me so good."

You lean down, kissing hard against her neck, branding her shoulder. You want her to feel you, to remember you. To not be able to ever feel remotely good again without first thinking of you.

"It's your fucking fault, Natty," you growl into her ear. "You drive me mad."

And she laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and going straight to your cock. "Good," she answers, "Good. Be mad. Be angry."

But you're beyond that now, beyond the point of no return. All that you know is Natty's cunt, Natty's ass, Natty's moans, and Natty's grin that you're aching to wipe off her face.

"Fucking hate me if you want," she's saying, and she can't seem to stop, "just don't stop fucking-ah!"

You nearly stop when you realise you've finally done it. Finally left Natty out of breath, lost for words. A fucking miracle, really-the kind that makes you feel like a fucking god.

It doesn't stop her cunt clenching around you, tight as a vice, because even now, Natty's got some kind of death grip pussy, and she's using it to fucking kill you.

You whisper in her ear, "You like that?"

Her only response is a breathy, needy little whine, so you spank her again.

And again.

Her cunt tightens. She's close, so close. You can feel it.

"You like it when I use you, Natty?"

She nods, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth crying into the mattress, a mess of hair and sweat and utter bliss.

"Say it," you demand, slapping her ass once more, watching as the pain ripples through her. "Say it."

And Natty does, because she's a good little whore, because she's yours now. "Yes, yes, I like it when you use me, when you fuck me like this, when it's only about you, your cock, your needs, your pleasure-"

God, it feels good to hear her say it, but you still want more than just words. You want her to fucking scream it.

You make the bed shake, knock the headboard against her wall, it's a competition of what's going to break first-the frame or her.

"This cunt. Your cunt. I'm going to use it. Fuck it whenever I want."

But Natty catches you off guard, because that's what Natty does best. She opens her eyes, looks right into yours, and suddenly she has her voice again: "Whenever I want. You're going to fucking move in with me."

You freeze. Your hand mid-spank. Your cock mid-thrust. It throws you entirely off, because, what the fuck?

"You're going to be my boyfriend now," Natty says, wrenching back control, fucking her ass back into you. Stating not asking, leaving no room for argument. "Move in with me, your place sucks anyway."

"You're out of your fucking mind," you start to protest, but she cuts you off with another squeeze of her cunt around you, and now she's the one fucking you, her hips rolling back and forth in this maddening, sinful way that has you biting down on your tongue to keep from shouting.

"Move in and just fuck me every day," she says, all light and airy, like it's already been decided, like moments ago you didn't have her dead to rights. "Morning to night. It would be so fucking nice."

This is real, you know that for sure. It's not just something she's saying to get off, not another way to get under your skin. You know it in her voice, she's deadly serious and suddenly your mind's racing.

"Come on," Natty purrs, punctuating each word with a slap of her ass against your waist, "You know you want it, why fucking wait?"

She's not wrong. It makes too much fucking sense to deny. And yet, part of you still can't believe it. That Natty, the girl who's had countless men at her feet, could have any man at her feet, actually wants you. That Natty is underneath you now, eyes glossed over with need, mouth swollen from your kisses, ass cheeks flushed crimson from your palm.

"I'll take such good care of you, baby," she says, unaware that she's already completely won, unaware that her cunt already has you bending to her will. "Every day, every night."

You can't help but nod. You're too consumed in her to do anything else. You just let go of everything. The fears, the doubt, the fucking logic.

And Natty says it, the three words that seal your fate-"I'll love you," she cries out, "I'll fucking love you forever if you just keep giving me this fucking cock."

It's like the world stops, like everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of you, wrapped up in Natty's tight fucking body.

You're so close, so fucking close, that you can almost taste it-the sweet release of your orgasm; giving in to Natty's unbelievably sensational cunt sleeving your cock, pulsing with each thrust, desperate to milk you dry.

There's nothing left to do but give Natty wants. Fuck her, hammer into her so hard that you're going to fuck a Natty-shaped hole into the mattress, fucking shatter her bedframe, and then keep drilling her straight through the floor.

And she's crying out your name, forgetting about everything that isn't you, isn't your cock, isn't the dream of your cum filling her to the brim and spilling out of her cunt every single day for the rest of your fucking lives.

"Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me? Please, give it to me, I need it so bad, I need it now, because I'm about to, about to, about to-"

And then it happens.

Fucking destroys her.

It hits. A crescendo that peaks as you bottom out inside her, shaking her to the core. Her cunt spasms about you, her body rises off the bed as if you're performing a fucking exorcism, and she screams your name so loud it's only a matter of time before the neighbours come banging on her door.

"Oh my fucking god you-"

Natty gushes around your cock, juices running down your shaft, your balls, and she's squirting. Oh god, she's squirting all over the fucking place.

Natty's body goes rigid, her back arching so much it's like she's trying to fold in half, crying, sputtering these words that don't even make sense-until you realise she's speaking an entirely different fucking language.

Not that it matters, because you can tell what she's saying, read it in her body, in the way she's spurting and making a big fucking mess beneath your bodies. Whatever she's saying sounds utterly depraved, filthy and so, so good to your ears.

It keeps going and going, until she has enough sense to speak your language again, needing to make sure you hear it when she says-"fucking fill me, baby," she whimpers. "Give me everything, all your fucking cum."

And it's your turn to be hit-like a fucking freight train.

You're cumming, hard and fast and out of fucking nowhere. Your balls tighten, your cock throbs, and you're flooding Natty's cunt.

It's biological, in every cell of your body-like your entire being is coming undone, and the only thing holding you together is Natty, Natty, Natty.

Her body shaking beneath you, her cunt contracting around your cock as wave after wave of cum fills her up.

She's so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, that you can feel every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum spurting into her. You're not sure how long it lasts, how much you give her, but it's enough to make your muscles shake, enough to knock the architecture right out of your limbs.

"So fucking good, so fucking good," Natty coos. "Fucking finally, finally filling me up so good."

Her moans a lullaby, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every syllable. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your every inhale and exhale ragged as you try to catch your breath. Still twitching inside her, still releasing the last of your cum, and Natty's just lying there, her body limp, her eyes closed, basking in it all.

"So perfect," she keeps repeating, right up until the very end, "So, so, perfect."

You collapse on top of her, just lie there shivering together, your face next to hers. She's got this look on her face, a victorious glow, and you just have to accept it. Yeah, she's won again, in devastatingly convincing fashion.

For a second, you're both just that-spent, exhausted, entirely drained. Like you've just run a marathon. Or been in a fight. Or both.

Then Natty's got the nerve to stir, to kiss your cheek with the tenderness of a whisper. Lips softer than you thought possible, given how hard she's just been fucking you. And that's it, the moment your body decides it's had enough of playing dead, enough of lying there like a sack of potatoes.

You roll over, bringing Natty with you, her body curling into yours like she's been made to fit there. Her head rests on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, and for a moment, you just hold her close.

It feels fucking right.

"Tomorrow," Natty sighs contentedly, her cheek finding home atop your heartbeat.

You blink. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you're moving in tomorrow." Natty's deciding for you already, setting the dynamic for the rest of your future. Doing all this with her eyes still shut as she snuggles closer to you. "I'll hire the movers."

You sigh, the weight of the world and Natty's body both feeling surprisingly light. You think about the next few days, the weeks, the years even, with Natty. The idea is so ludicrous, so absurd, that it feels like a fever dream.

But as you hold her, feel her warmth, her unabashed, blatant satisfaction, something inside you shifts. A reframing of the concept of Natty that you hold in your head. The thought of her naked body in your bed, her laughter in your living room, her mess in your kitchen-it doesn't feel like an intrusion, it feels like home.

"Are you sure?" you ask. A little shaky, a little hopeful.

Natty opens one eye to look at you, a laugh playing on her lips. "Oh, you know I'm going to be the worst fucking roommate ever."

"Yeah, I can see that. But as long as you keep being the best fucking everything else..." Your words trail off into a whisper, your hand tracing idle patterns on her back.

And then she says it again.

"You're so fucking in love with me."

Natty kisses you hard, deep, her tongue sliding against yours. And you know, you fucking know, that she's right. You are desperately, entirely, so fucking in love with her, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You laugh, the sound a little desperate, a little wild, and roll her again, pin her down again. A strange feeling rushes through your mind. Like you're going to be repeating this exact same motion for the next hundred years. And somehow, that doesn't sound like the worst thought in the world.

Natty squeals, cheers, moans when you settle between her legs.

"Fuck you, Natty."

"Oh, baby," Natty giggles, reaching down between your legs, squeezing you. Once. Twice. Until you're filling her hand once more. "That's what I'm here for."

ANACHRONISM ft. Mina

mina x male reader smut

part one of strange currencies

14k words

Go ahead, try and pretend like any of this happened by accident.

Like you totally didn't mean to charm some poor, pretty little thing; dazzle her with the wealth, the fame, the you of it all.

Have her spreading her legs for you, bunching her dress up over her thighs, serving herself up like she's one of those ludicrously expensive banquets you frequent, pleading-

"God, I need you inside me, like, right this fucking second."

Because here's the truth of it all, what you've come to realise about this woman who has never once in her entire life been reduced to something as pithy as poor or pretty or little; let alone anything short of extraordinary. This wildly successful, elegant to the point of being untouchable, and just really, really fucking gorgeous idol:

Nothing about Myoui Mina is accidental.

Even all this-her idea: showing up at your suite uninvited, leaning against the doorframe, panties hanging off her fingertips. Showing off how ridiculously drenched she is for you and how badly she wants you to do something about it.

If only these walls could talk.

"Hurry up," she's gritting out. Deadlocking the door behind her. Still not used to waiting for anything, apparently. "Come on, I need your cum. Anywhere you like. Just inside me. Now."

You should be more surprised. Instead, you're laughing. "Patience, darling."

A step forward, pants hitting the floor, cock in hand. Running the tip of it across her folds, making it shiny with her slick, forcing this sigh from her lips.

You pause, just to make her whine. To make her give you what you really want to hear.

Mina bites her lip.

Squeezes her eyes shut.

She knows the deal.

"Please."

That word, that crack in the composure, the control that Mina is so used to maintaining everywhere else but here. It's the thrill of it all-the challenge in the attempt. Taking someone like Mina, all perfect posture, sparkling teeth, effortless grace; and bringing her to her knees.

Figuratively speaking, mostly.

Only, her phone lights up.

You look down and see it, left abandoned on the floor somewhere in Mina's rush to get to you. But now its glow is stark against the dark parquet, beaming with messages by the dozen. All different variations on the same question: where the fuck is she?

Her eyes flicker to the screen, then back up to yours. There's a silent conversation happening there-desire fighting with duty, lust with loyalty.

You make it easy for her.

A push is all it takes, really. Cunt yielding to your will, cock sliding into that ridiculous tightness.

She freezes.

Braces herself.

Whimpers.

"Priorities, Mina," you grunt through it, breaching in deeper; assaulted by the heat of her cunt around you, choking each inch. "Remember, you asked for this."

The phone keeps buzzing, panicked vibrations at your feet. Urgent messages becoming calls, flashing faces across the screen. You can see them one-by-one, see Mina's reaction as they pop up-sighing when she sees her managers name, eyes widening when a rather flirty photo of Chaeyoung comes next, and then her entire body tensing, tightening around you at the next picture:

Her and her boyfriend, arms thrown around each other, both looking all beautiful and famous and so very much in love. The perfect couple; so picturesque it might as well have come right off a billboard.

"God, fuck," Mina groans out, panting, breathless. "You'd think they'd-ah-just leave me alone for one-single-night-"

"Should we snap some photos? Add them all to a group chat, send them through? Let them see the look on your face and figure it out from there."

Mischief flashes across her eyes, mouth open to answer back with something that is no doubt clever and suggestive and designed to get you both into far more trouble than you're already in-but she doesn't get a word of it out.

You're slamming into her.

Mina nearly comes apart then and there; eyes snapping shut, neck arching, back banging against the hard, unforgiving wood of the door behind her. Her lips round into this perfect 'O' of surprise, and this sweet, sweet needy whine comes slipping out from her throat.

And just like that, she's all yours again.

It's not like the phone goes silent-it just stops mattering.

"Asshole," she's saying-grinning now, doing that Mina thing where she says one thing but means another, expecting you to read the underneath. Which this time is-touch me, pull me close, pin me and keep me fucking trapped while you fuck the air right out of my lungs.

"Now there's an idea." You're kissing her, tongue past her lips, tasting the rush of the forbidden, the lines she's crossing just so she can have you filling up her cunt.

And there's all this noise-the sound of your cock thrusting into her, skin against skin, shaft into wetness; the buzzing of the phone, her cries of your name dying in your mouth.

Oh, you know it's going to be brutal if anyone was to overhear, if you're caught and all this gets out. The narratives that will be crafted, the cliché of it all, the sizzling hot headlines that will undoubtedly paint her, as they are wont to do, in a million different unfair ways.

Seductress. Gold-digger. Slut.

But even as you're fucking her deep, lips marking up her skin, digging your fingers into the meat of her ass and making Mina cum so hard that all she can say is- "please, please, please,"

-you know the facts, no matter who's begging who under the shine of the outrageously garish chandelier hanging overhead:

You're the one that chased her first.

-

(It's incredibly fitting that this whole thing started with a celebration.)

-

Taking a step back, to months earlier, at a gala:

Where it's becoming apparent to you, and seemingly, just you, that Mina's the only one here that doesn't look entirely out of place.

Or at least, she's the only one that seems to fit amongst the grandeur; the imposing pillars and archways, the ornate cornices, the glint of gold and jade beneath the soft glow of paper lanterns, and the shadow of the palace itself, cast over the sprawling garden like a looming guardian.

The anachronism of it all is the concept, or so you've been told. The new, the future-your company-against the backdrop of the old, the traditional. A fusion event, meant to celebrate and honour the past right before yanking it to the future; and yet it all somehow feels so…

Boring.

The same faces, the same games; sharks in a sea of corporate sabotage and political machinations. They'll smile for you, sing your praises to the highest heavens, do everything they can to make you remember their name-right up until the moment you show your back.

All this to say, it's going to be very hard to last four hours without wanting to punch someone in the face just to make things slightly more interesting.

(Oh come, one and all. Throw yourselves at the feet of Korea's youngest self-made billionaire, and hope that by some stroke of luck or misplaced charm, you might just catch a crumb from his table.

That's what this whole exhausting circus feels like to you.)

So, when you're about done with what seems like the hundredth round of fake laughs and vacuous pleasantries with yet another politician who's trying to sell you on the importance of family, and coincidentally, his very marriageable daughter, you make your escape.

Something about needing a drink.

Ease out of the circle, let the noise of the gala swallow you up like you were never there, and navigate across the garden to the bar.

Where you find her.

Mina, something of an anachronism herself; looking more at home amongst the pagodas and the cherry blossoms than in the company of suits and ties and plastic smiles. Like she's been painted onto the scene; rendered in living colour-stark white, midnight black, blue silk. Or cobalt. Maybe azure.

You'll have to reserve some time later to ask her about the colour of her dress.

What's important is that she's alone, which seems like a crime in and of itself, on account of, well, how fucking breathtaking she is. Add that she's here at all, and it all amounts to some kind of serendipitous miracle.

(An idol, a celebrity, willingly spending her free time in the company of the elitist dregs of society? The world's gone mad.)

You don't really need an excuse to join her; you know her, technically. Not intimately, but in that same way that everyone in this high society tapestry is threaded together. An award show here, a charity function there-the kind of acquaintance that lets you say hello without raising eyebrows, but not much more.

All this to say it makes some sense to slide yourself onto the barstool to her right, ignoring that the rest are completely unoccupied.

The smile that Mina gives you as you approach is a little sharper than it needs to be, a little too knowing.

"You're not going to ask if this seat's taken?"

You return the smile, a mirror image of hers, and lean onto the bar. You don't even need to look at the bartender; your drink is in your hand, cold and crisp, the second you set it down. "I thought I'd risk it."

"Neat trick," Mina says, posting her chin on one hand, watching the sleek liquid slide down your throat. She's got a flute of champagne in front of her, untouched.

There's a gravity to her, you're realising only when you're this close. Something in the way the moonlight's kissing her skin, a blend of porcelain and peaches, glowing. Maybe that's why she's been left alone; the other guests were smart enough not to get swallowed up in it all. Better to appreciate at a distance than to drown in it.

She regards you for a beat, runs a finger around the rim of her glass. "Shouldn't you be off being the centre of attention somewhere? Shaking hands, kissing babies, that whole bag?"

"Nah," you're dismissive, looking back out to the crowd milling about, lost in their own conversations and power plays. "This whole thing's more for them than it is for me."

Mina scoffs. Raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. You follow her eyes-across the banners, the placards, the giant projection cast onto the palace itself.

A brushstroke circle-the logo you designed-swirling around, stamping itself on what was once a symbol of absolute power, now reduced to just another stage for the rich and the elite and all their insignificant little games.

You feel the need to clarify. "For the company."

Mina ripostes. "That just so happens to be named after you."

"Just one of those funny coincidences."

"Apparently so."

It does occur to you that it should be somewhat startling how instantly familiar you feel around Mina. Slipping into casual conversation-light jabs, coded compliments; all soaked in insinuation. Just enough edge and implication to keep you on your toes.

There's an ease to her, to how she smiles, how she laughs, how she just sits there, all drop-dead gorgeous and oh, this? Nothing special, just how I always am.

So it's only natural that somewhere in all this easy banter, between your third drink and her second, her hand lands on your forearm, your knee brushes against hers and you both decide to stop being so subtle.

You pick your moment, as she's thumbing through a menu of drinks she's already deciding she doesn't want, to try to solve the mystery of her. Past the red of her lips, the edge of her jaw, the hollow of her throat. Along the neckline of her dress, where the silk clings like it's afraid of letting go, and down to where it dips and angles out; the open shoulder, the collarbone, the swell underneath.

It's the sum of it all, you're realising. The dress, the look, the woman.

(Accentuate without revealing. Tease without giving away the prize. Show off that flawless ass and dare the world not to look. And yeah, they fucking look. They all do.

You're just the only one that doesn't look away when you're caught.)

But now, you could reach out and touch her; unlatch the straps of her heels, run your fingers from her ankle up, up over the smooth expanse of her calf, her knee, the bare skin of her thigh right where her dress decides to daringly split, and underneath, until your hand is filled with the heat of her and all she knows is you.

You could complete her. Or she, you, you think.

Only, there's a slight misstep in an otherwise immaculate ensemble.

A necklace.

A ridiculous, ugly, tacky thing. Hanging off her like a misplaced jewel on a swan; more 'costume party' than 'refined modern gala'. Fighting the simplicity of her gown, offensively jarring, especially against the serenity of the moonlit garden.

Mina notices you staring. "A gift."

"Boyfriend," you realise, doing the math in your head. A careless present, given by someone who doesn't know (or doesn't care to know) her. Hoping the flash, the dollars spent overshadows the unfamiliarity.

(It doesn't.)

"Partner," Mina confirms. There's a slight dip at the corner of her mouth, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it flash of something unpleasant. It disappears as soon as it comes, but you caught it. "A little too old to have a boyfriend."

"Hm." You click your tongue. Narrow your eyes. You've been told that it makes you appear disarming. "And where is this partner?"

Mina's smile returns. She takes her first sip of champagne. "You tell me. Don't you sign off on all the invites?"

"Just the important ones."

"Even so, not like he would have come if he was invited." Mina leaves you to fill in the gaps. "A tad too public. For the both of us, really."

"I see."

And you do. You've seen your fair share of these types of arrangements, participated in a few, even. At the beginning, the secret of it all, the cloak and dagger; it's exhilarating. But that only lasts so long. Eventually, like all things, it fades. Leaving you with someone who you don't really see, who you don't even know, and the sinking realisation that maybe the thrill was the only thing that kept it interesting.

"So," you lean forward, drawing your conclusion. "You're here. All alone. Stuck in a relationship with someone dumb enough to let you go out looking like that."

"Careful."

"It's just," you offer, your gaze lingering on her throat, "You don't strike me as the type to settle for anything less than you deserve, Mina."

That makes Mina pause. Almost flinch. Imperceptibly if you weren't looking so closely at her lips. The sound of her name rolling off your tongue, like it's always been there, waiting to escape-it has her reeling.

And yet, somehow, she recovers.

"Because you know me so well."

So, you switch up, throw a curveball. "Is it the sex?"

To her credit, Mina barely reacts to that provocation, as if she was expecting the follow up. Just takes another sip of her champagne with a grace that seems rehearsed. You'll have to try harder.

She shrugs a bare shoulder.

"Sex is just sex. It's not everything."

"So, no sex at all, then."

Mina's smile is like a knife's edge. "Are you always this forward?"

"All I'm saying," you keep going, somewhat emboldened by the game, by the warmth of the whiskey poisoning your kidneys. "If it was me-"

Mina's hand slides up your forearm, ending somewhere around your triceps. You're close. Close enough to inhale her perfume; cinnamon, smoke, darker than anticipated. You'd fill your lungs with it, if you could. "If it was you."

You take another drink. She watches.

And it clicks into place. What this really is. What she's really doing here.

The slight tilt of her shoulder, a slip of her dress-just a fraction. A shift in her seat and suddenly, the silk has risen, too high, and there's a stretch of skin leading up to a flash of lace that's more moonlit than the night itself.

The suspicion sets in. Was she waiting for you?

Mina laughs.

You ask, "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking," Mina says, lowly. Grinning, like she's reading your mind. "How even you're the same."

"How so?"

"All you men. How you see me, how you're looking at me right now." She reaches up to her neck, taps the clunky stone hovering over her throat. Once. Twice. "Making it about you. You think I need saving."

You open your mouth. Close it. Open once more to protest-

"That's what you think." Mina interrupts, smirks; and your eyes are on her lips, wondering if anyone would be able to pull you off them if you were so lucky enough to taste them. "What you want is to own me."

"Mina," you regard her, openly. Honestly. "I could never dream of owning you."

She nods back towards your logo, emblazoned across the castle walls. "Because you're clearly not the type of person that likes owning things."

And there's a realisation here, as she's staring into your eyes-a real, actual, bone-deep revelation-that she's been doing the same thing as you this whole time. Reading you, until she's seeing through you.

The silence stretches, thick and sweet , and it's obvious to see where this is heading. The idea that's being sparked-lean in, kiss her right here, right now, with all these eyes on you. Kiss that smirk right off her face, steal whatever clever rebuttals she's composing from her lips, the flirtations that she's left hanging in the air. Replace them all with your name.

But it's all hypothetical, for now.

"You're not even thinking past right now, are you?" Mina asks, amused. "The rumours you've started just by sitting next to me."

"Rumours."

"The kind that ruins careers. That never leave. That would make him want to kill you if he found out."

Another sip, letting it burn down your throat. Think about it. Attack it from every angle-

(Doesn't it just make sense; the billionaire, and his beautiful celebrity partner? Or even if there was a scandal, just a one-night fling; wouldn't it be worth it?

You could both live off the thrill alone, it'd reignite whatever embers her boyfriend hasn't stomped out yet.)

"Maybe I want the rumours."

Mina's eyes widen. It's the first time she's dropped her guard.

"If you were mine," you start, and stop immediately, reining in that last word on the tip of your tongue. "If you were my girlfriend, partner, whatever label you want to put on it. I'd tell the whole damn world. Broadcast it on every channel. Make sure everyone knows exactly who I'm fucking every single morning, afternoon, night."

You're hitting the mark of something, you can tell, because Mina's hand tightens around your arm, and she doesn't seem to mind when yours lands on her thigh. A flash; the thought of spreading them, of seeing her laid bare underneath you. Or flipped over in front of you, crumpling that dress around her waist, so you can take proper purchase of that ass that's been hinted at all night long.

And all of a sudden, she doesn't seem to be as spoken for as she might have led you to believe.

She bites her lip. Keeps it there for a second, two, before letting it go.

"So, this is what you usually say to all the pretty girls you invite to these parties?"

The alcohol's loosened your tongue enough to state truths you're supposed to keep to yourself. "I usually don't have to say anything at all."

Mina challenges. "Must be nice, being this rich, cute, and charming."

"The being rich part does a lot of the hard work."

"So, the cuteness and the charm?"

"I'll let you decide," you finish, watching her smile spread, the corners of her eyes crinkle. It makes your chest tighten.

"I suppose, in your perfect world," Mina surmises, and now she's so close that your knee is splitting the difference between her thighs, and you're already planning the logistics of it all-the where, the how- "this ends with you fucking my brains out behind one of these old houses."

"I've got a few in mind."

"I bet." Mina takes one last pull of her drink, empties it, and sets it back down. "And afterwards? After you've made me forget my own name and made the entirety of my existence revolve around your cock-what's your plan then? Who are we-who are you going to be?"

You finish off your own glass, setting it down with the same deliberate clink as hers. "You know, the funny thing about money is," you say, sliding your fingers up her thigh, higher, higher. "It can make you whoever you want to be. So, the real question is-who do you want me to be?"

You're holding your breath as she answers: "Not some knight in shining armour. I don't need a saviour. If that's what you're thinking."

"Then what do you need?"

Mina inches, gets close, and now her breath's a tickle on the shell of your ear. She bites. "Just someone to help me scratch an itch."

There's a moment, somewhere before Mina threads her fingers through yours, lets you lead her through the throngs of guests and into the shadows of the palace; where all of this-this want, this need, boils over. Where Mina kisses your cheek and warns:

"You don't have the time for me."

Now it's your turn to grin; reaching up to her throat, slipping that necklace off her, leaving it to clatter onto the granite below never to be spoken of again.

"Maybe. But I can make every second count."

-

This is how you end up:

Pinning Mina to some ancient wall; the moon's spotlight spilling over the contours of her body, a hand tangled in her hair, the other pushing her dress higher up her thighs.

You weren't lying, you did have a place in mind. Namely, by the west gate, where a house that used to be the servant's quarters stood. It's a part of the palace that's been neglected in the reconstruction, and thus, ironically, the most authentic part of this whole sham.

A true hideaway for those not to be seen or heard; a building that's seen centuries of service, of lives lived in the shadow of royalty, and now it's going to bear witness to this, to you and Mina, undoing each other with every passing second.

Something a little sacred, a whole lot profane.

She's smiling against your lips; a smirk, more likely. Because she's new to this kind of thing-the almost romantic picture the two of you are painting-chaste kisses stolen in quiet corners of royal residences. The kind of thing that could fuel a dozen dramas.

But you both know better.

So, you let her start things off, let her set the pace for this evening's affairs. And Mina, to her credit, is gracious enough to tell you exactly what she wants.

(Kiss me harder, touch me here, please, please, don't let go.)

Twisting the lapels of your jacket in her hand, desperately pulling you closer, even though there's no more room left. Kissing you with longing. Making you believe that she's missed this-missed you-despite the fact that you've only just officially met. And sure, it's a lie, but it's a lie that feels so good, so right, that you're willing to indulge her.

Indulge yourself.

Your lips veer off the corner of her mouth, ignoring the tongue and teeth that try to keep you there, the hand that kindly urges you to not stop kissing her.

Because you've got a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down the seconds before someone calls you or her away, or more problematically, catches you and her, a heap of limbs and lust and fucking in the dusty archives of history.

You break away, keep things moving, kiss your way along her neck, feel her heartbeat drum against your lips. Follow her neckline down, down; find this sweet little spot, a darkened freckle right on top of her collarbone that makes her sigh.

"Tell me something, honestly." Mina finds her voice the same time your fingers meet the promised lace of her underwear, turning her words into these breathless moans. "How often do you do this?"

You tug the fabric pooling at her waist-once, firmly-and Mina's dress slips from her shoulders, whispering down her arms and leaving her in nothing but flawless white and a strapless bra that matches the silk in hue.

You smile, look up. "This?"

Mina clarifies, "Whisk some innocent girl away into a deserted corner and-"

She's cut off by the click-clack of her bra releasing behind her back, your fingers slipping beneath the cotton, and you're filling your hand with the swell of her breast; so soft, so perfect.

The sound when you touch her and she gasps; if only you could capture, keep it forever. You'll just have to make sure she keeps making it-kneading gently, rolling the pebbled peak of her nipple between your thumb and forefinger, feeling it bead and tighten.

Your lips to her shoulder, you ask, "And what?"

Mina sighs, "fuck her completely, thoroughly senseless," and you swear there's something revelatory about how she says it-sinful ideas from saintly lips.

"Honestly?" You pause, your gaze lingering on the goosebumps rising across her skin. "You're the first."

Her laughter's a surprise; it's light, disbelieving. "First?"

"First tonight."

Mina's smile widens, her grip on your jacket tightens. "You're so full of shit," she says, but there's no malice in it. Just the thrill of the hunt. Or, being hunted.

You don't bother to argue the point; let her think what she wants. Instead, you lean into it (into her), let your other hand snake around her thigh, over the elastic of her panties and lower, until you're palming the curve of her ass.

Firm, taut, flawless-because of course it is; exactly like the rest of her. She's so hot under your touch; the softness, the smoothness of it. And you know-without a doubt-you're going to worship this ass.

A squeeze for good measure-balancing the fine line of respect and greed. Mina yelps-surprise, pleasure.

"God," Mina shudders, does her best under the assault of your lips on her neck, fingers pinching, tugging, hand squeezing. "You're-oh, you're not so bad at this."

You press a kiss to her throat. "Flattery gets you everywhere, Miss Myoui."

"Please, not with the government names," Mina hisses, her cheeks flushing a soft pink that matches the glow of the lanterns outside.

"Apologies." You chuckle, slipping your hand underneath the band of her panties, and around-down-pressing against her and sinking lower until you've got a proper hold of her. Soaking wet and dripping heat onto your fingertips.

A cry from her lips. A shiver. A buck of her hips.

Her hands shoot to your chest.

"Please, kiss me again."

You oblige-how could you not, with the way she's begging?

Her nails dig into your shirt, her breath hitches as you push your finger-your index-past her entrance and inside, and just before she can moan your name into the night air, you're filling her mouth with your tongue, licking inside.

You kiss her like it's your first kiss, like it's your last. Like the only way to calm her down is with your mouth and your tongue and your teeth. She's so wet and tight and pulsing around you, she's trying to suck you in; and fuck, when you're knuckle-deep she bites down on your lip so hard she nearly draws blood.

The moans that she's filling your mouth with; this symphony of want sends a jolt of pure, unfiltered desire straight to your cock. You're straining-against your trousers, against her thigh, straining against the urge to rip that dress off her and leave her bare, but you're not there yet.

It's about her, about needing her, making her beg for it. Making her so desperate that she'll do just about anything to get you inside her.

(Because there's something about her, about Mina, that just makes you want to take your time. To learn the ins and outs of what makes her tick. The secret spots that make her moan into your mouth, the places to touch that make her shiver, the sighs and sounds that only you can coax out of her.

It's etched into every line of her body; every curve and sharp edge-just pure heat from head to toe; And there's a beauty so absolute in her perfection, the dash of makeup, the careful draping of her hair, it's too good not to ruin. To not want to leave your mark on her in some way so that everyone knows she was once yours, if only for a night.)

"You're just so needy, Mina." You hum into her jaw, when your lips slip from hers and you struggle to resist the urge to leave these marks on her. Her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Every part of her that she's offered to you, every part you're eager to claim. "Like it's been ages since someone's touched you like this."

"I don't-please-" is all Mina can manage, because the pad of your thumb is ghosting over her clit, pressing in and circling, and the way her pitch rises and she sighs your name gives you your answer:

It's been a while.

"I don't think-gah-" She tries agin, but you torture her with another finger, stretching inside her, sinking in and curling upwards. "I don't think I've ever been touched like this."

"Good," you tell her, and she shivers when your voice rumbles through her, when you drop down and your lips go low again, and you take one of her stiff peaks between your teeth. "I don't settle for second place."

"Neither do-God-I-" Mina braces herself against the wall behind her, failing to find anything but cold brick to hold onto as you map out the rest of her with your hands and your fingers and your lips.

She's so, so hot for you; you would've never predicted it, not in your wildest estimations. Never thought just how easy it would be to undo someone so poised and put-together like Mina, to render her into this puddle of need.

"So why don't you show me then," Mina breathes, voice trembling as much as she is. You suck deep, swirl your tongue, make her arch her back to push more of herself into you. "What all the-oh my-what all the fuss is about."

"As you wish, darling."

And there's part of you that's recognising the awfulness of what you're doing, taking something-someone-that's not yours, and having her tell you all these things, finger fucking these words of oblivion from her lips, touch me, please I need it, kiss me harder, more, more, make me feel it, make me feel you.

But even that part of you is so, so small right now, buried deep down with everything that isn't Mina, with everything that isn't her pussy clenching around your hand, or the taste of tits on your tongue.

Ignore all thoughts of the after, of what happens when you've made her cum again and again, and you've wrecked yourself in the pursuit of it all. What happens when you return to the throngs of nobodies, all rumpled and flushed and red, and the whispers start flying, and the glances are no longer just knowing but shamelessly envious.

That's a problem for future you.

Right now, you've nearly stripped her entirely, pressed up against a wall that's seen more than its fair share of secrets, and your two-now three-fingers are ruining her in a way that has her dancing on that borderline.

"I'm close, so close," Mina cries, but you already know.

Because you're already giving it to her; everything she wants and then some. Touching her, fucking her with your fingers, pushing her higher, watching her unravel.

Making her whine against your skin, making her eyes squeeze shut like she's afraid of what's happening, afraid of how much she wants this.

"We're only just getting started, Mina."

You let her nipple pop out from your mouth, leaving it to bob in the cool night air, sensitive and dying to be back between your teeth. Hand shifts from her hip, sliding up to cradle her jaw, to tip her face back-force those deep, dark eyes to open so you can really look at her.

Panting, pupils blown wide, and the sight of her so undone sends another wave of heat straight to your cock.

"Look at me." It comes out harsher, more of a firm command than intended. It does its job. "You're going to cum now."

She nods, frantically, eyes locked on yours as your thumb traces over her bottom lip, feeling it plump and swollen from your kisses. Her tongue darts out, swipes over the pad, tasting herself and you; and you're thinking about filling that mouth of hers, or maybe that cunt, or if she's game, that tight, untouched little asshole.

But one thing at a time.

"I'm going to eat your pussy," you're saying everything you've dreamt of saying to her since you first saw her, first caught sight of that ass daring to wander past your line of sight; and suddenly, every raw, filthy thought you've had of her is coming to the surface. "Then I'm going to fuck you. Again and again. Your cunt, your mouth. That ass. I'm going to take it all. And you're going to let me, aren't you, darling?"

Mina breathes, nods, signing a verbal contract to let you do whatever the fuck you want with her, promising you all of her, every part of her you've so shamelessly craved.

"Good."

And so, you drop to your knees.

You glance up at her. She looks down at you.

Like she's been burning for this; like she'll combust if you make her wait a second longer.

Pushing her dress up until it's around her waist, keeping it up with your hands on her thighs, spreading her legs wider. And you're seeing her pussy, the darkened, plump flesh-bare, wet, begging-and so, so pretty.

Fuck-what kind of guy could resist this?

(The kind that buys her jewellery without knowing the first thing about her. The kind that leaves her to sit alone at a gala like a trophy on a shelf. The kind that doesn't get to taste her-doesn't know how.

The kind that's not you.

And maybe she was right-you do think you could save her.)

"What are you doing?" Mina huffs, impatient.

You smirk, unable to resist the urge to drag this out, to keep her on edge a little longer. "Just appreciating."

Mina's eyes narrow, but the smile never leaves her lips. "Well, appreciate faster."

You don't need to be told twice.

Take her by the hips, spin her around, make her inhale-sharp. Force her to look away from you, to face the cold, indifferent wall, to brace herself.

"Wait, why-"

"Hold your dress up for me," you mumble against her thighs.

Mina's hands obey, holding the silk out of the way; and now she's bent over, like a fucking present. Letting your eyes drink in her ass; unable to do anything but just stare.

How the moonlight kisses the curve, makes the shadows play against it. So perfect. So round and tight and full. Fruit so ripe you could pluck it from the tree with your teeth.

You're leaning in, kissing the top of her thighs, right below where her cheeks spill over. Kissing up, a soft press of your lips to one cheek, the other, and fuck Mina's trembling; barely holding it together, and you're just getting started.

You drag your nose up, across the cotton of her panties and inhale her deep. Sweet and musky, a fine wine that's been left to breathe, and she squirms.

Shivers under your breath.

And when Mina sighs something that sounds suspiciously like a warning-because she's not the type to let you get away with anything like this so easily-you take the band of her underwear with your teeth, feeling the fabric stretch. Thin, delicate, begging to snap.

The panties fall away, down to her ankles. The sound of her heels tapping the ground as she lifts her legs to let it slide off, leaving her bare, vulnerable, and yours.

Mina goes still.

Hands spread her cheeks, and finally, you dive in, tongue first. Swipe along the crevice of her ass, taste the sweetness of her from bottom to top, forcing this gasp from her lips. You're not shy about it-no room for anything close to it when your nose is pressed up against her asshole-and Mina's thighs are trembling, muscles in her legs tightening like she's trying to run away from what's coming next.

But she won't. You've got her pinned. You've got her right where she wants to be.

You flatten your tongue against her pussy, lick from cunt to asshole in one, long slow drag, make her sigh your name like it's a prayer.

"I can't believe-I never-no one's ever-" She's talking, trying to keep it together, trying to rationalise how something so filthy is making her fall apart in a million different, tremendous ways. But the words break off into moans, pure music to your ears.

"Like that?" You murmur against her skin, words disappearing into her.

"Oh my god, yes," Mina cries out, a benediction. Her grip tightens on her dress, holding it up like a veil. A fucked-up kind of thing, marrying her cunt to your lips; arousal so potent you're drowning it.

Because she's a wreck, been a wreck since the moment you laid a hand on her. And now you just have to keep her there.

You let your tongue slide up and down her slit, teasing the folds, going lower, spreading her legs to lap up her clit until she's begging for it-until she's begging for you to push inside, to fuck her with it, to make her scream.

"Enjoy it, enjoy being so messy for me."

"Oh-oh my God!" Mina cries out as you delve into her, and the sound echoes down empty corridors, bouncing off the walls, taking a grand tour of the palace. "I can't believe-can't fucking believe-"

You can't believe it either. That no one else has had the pleasure of tasting, of licking, of dining on this slice of Eden laid out before you. It's a crime against nature, really. A sin that you're more than happy to rectify.

"Fuck, you're so good," Mina voice is strained, her legs buckling under the weight of her own desire, she needs to post one hand onto the wall to not completely collapse into your mouth.

A dark chuckle escapes your lips. Feeling smug and utterly in control. "It's not rocket science, darling. Just a little bit of appreciation goes a long way."

But you're not just tonguing her ass because it's there, because it's what you're into. You're doing it because it's driving her wild, because you know it's a button that's been left untouched, unexplored. And there's something about being the first to do it that makes your cock throb, makes you want to worship not just her ass, but all of her.

Every part of her that's been neglected, overlooked, ignored.

"You have no idea," she breathes, her legs trembling harder now, "How good it feels."

You lean back, just a fraction, looking up at her, the tension coiling up her spine. "Oh, darling," you say, "I do. Believe me, I do."

A kiss into the small of her back, and you slide your finger back into her, once at first. So impossibly wet, stretching so easily for you, welcoming you right back in.

It's all for you.

And you can't get enough, so you add another, then another, stretching her even more, making her drench you and moan for you louder and louder.

You've figured it out. How to fuck her, lick her, press into her cunt just right. Finding the rhythm, that makes her breath skip and her body tense, that makes her pussy clamp down around your digits.

"Oh, God, oh, oh, oh-yes-right there-right there-" She's panting, her hips jerking back, meeting every thrust of your fingers and your tongue.

You're so close to making her cum-so close that you can almost taste it on the air-and she's begging for it, so sweetly, so desperately.

"Please, please, don't stop, I'm right there-" Mina's hand reaches back, tangling in your hair, and she's pulling you closer, grinding herself against your mouth.

Bury your face between her cheeks, fuck her fast with your fingers. It's heaven down in the depths of hell; her thighs, her cheeks, her cunt, her ass. So soft, so wet, so very yours.

That whimper, that beautiful sigh that escapes Mina's lips is her final invitation. You push your tongue inside her, opening it up, feeling the tightness, the warmth. The shock coursing through her as she surrenders to the unspeakable filth and bliss of your mouth on her asshole.

So tight, so clean, so delicious.

You lick and suck and kiss, fucking her with your fingers, pressing into her, exploring the depths of that tight little hole.

"This is, this is-" her voice strains, wonder, desperation, downright heat at what you're doing to her. "No one's ever done this to me. Keep eating my ass, please."

It's her words that keeps you going, and it all becomes a blur of moans and shivers, of the way she tastes, smells, feels. But you don't stop, you can't, all you want to do is make that tight ring of muscle yours.

"Please let me cum. Now. Please. I need it-I need you-"

She needs you to never stop.

You take her, right there in the moonlit garden, hidden by the shadows and the foliage and the silk of her dress. You can almost feel the vibrations of her voice in your mouth, against your tongue, like it's a part of her, like she's speaking straight into your soul with every moan and gasp and plea.

The squelch of your fingers fucking her. Her cunt griping you, being devoured. Your tongue invading her ass. The way you're ruining her for everyone else. Her cries.

She's so loud.

It doesn't matter.

The whispers of the gala seem so far away, so irrelevant. It's all about Mina and her ass and your three fingers sawing in and out of her and she's saying-

"God, fuck, how can you do this, how can you make me-fuck-"

The answer to her unfinished question: it's because she's worth it. It's because of her, how she makes you want to prove yourself. Because of her hips and her thighs and her cunt and her ass and all of her, every single part.

And that's your name on her breath, that's your name when she's close, that's your name when she finally tips over, when her legs give way and she's gasping it into the night.

"Oh my-"

Mina cums.

You swallow.

Drink your fill from her cunt, fill up your nose with her scent. Burn the memory of what it's like to have your face buried in her ass and have her leaking down your chin. It's a full body spasm that wracks through her, setting her soul on fire. She's a star, a supernova, a fucking explosion on your tongue.

Her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing, clenching, and you give it to her, keep fucking her through it, keep licking, because she's still there, still hovering.

It overwhelms her-she lets it-you feel her body tighten, quiver, then release like a bowstring snapped.

"Fuck me, fuck me, please-yes, like that-right-right there-yes-yes-yes-"

A chant of yeses right before falling off a cliff and into an oh fuck, I'm cumming.

And you're right there, knees in the dirt, smiling against her cheeks, holding onto her hips, making sure she doesn't collapse entirely.

And fuck, she goes, and goes and goes.

Until the ground falls beneath her feet.

You're there to catch her, to ease her down to the ground with you, hold her in your arms until her world stops spinning.

It takes a moment, two.

And she looks up at you, like she's unsure of how she got there, in this tangle of sighs and limbs and you. But it doesn't really matter because she pulls you closer, hand still buried in your hair, needing to kiss you just one more time.

Her taste lingers on your tongue-sweet and salty and so uniquely her. She kisses you again, a little less frantic this time. A little more like she means it.

It's hard not to feel anything but pride.

Mina's cheek is pressed to your chest, her eyes barely able to focus, her breaths coming in quiet, contented puffs.

And you're coming to realise what kind of woman Mina is. Even now, when she should be an unrepairable mess-sprawled out on the cool floor with her dress in a puddle around her, her pussy still pulsing and leaking down her thighs-there's this poise to her that's downright intimidating.

She breathes, "You're just a fantasy, aren't you?" It feels like a warm hand sliding down your spine.

You lean down, kiss her forehead, tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

It's peaceful. It's perfect.

And then your emergency line rings.

Mina inclines her head. A spell is broken. "Well, that's timing for you."

You instantly regret the next words that come out of your mouth, the rational words that have never sounded more irrational. "I need to go."

Mina's far too polite, far too graceful to say what she wants to say, what you're pleading her in your mind to say. But she knows the game. You both do.

She just nods, rewards herself with a peek at the tent angrily poking underneath your slacks.

"It's fine," she says. (It's not). She reaches up to your lips, running a thumb over the gloss she's stained you with. "I think I can handle it from here."

Her other hand slips down to your thigh, gives you a courtesy squeeze as a farewell, and it's all you can do not to jump. But you can't, because the phone's still ringing, because at the end of the day you're still a billionaire with responsibilities and a reputation to uphold.

She's kind of enough to give you an out. "You're supposed to be giving a speech, right?"

Said responsibility and reputation has you answering, "Yeah."

You're stupid for it, stupid for even entertaining the idea of letting her go, or leaving her behind. But you're not completely blameless-it's near impossible to even think straight when all the blood in your body has gone south for the evening.

"Are you going to be okay with," Mina blinks down at you. "Your situation?"

It's painful to even say it. "I guess I'll have to be."

Mina sits up, pulls herself off you, untangling her legs with a grace that seems almost otherworldly. Pulls her panties back up, tucks them into place with a little shiver. Smooths her dress down, twisting it back in place.

You're already regretting letting her leave before she's even gone.

But the messages have piled up on your phone, and Mina can see it all, the endless frantic texts, the missed calls.

You're late.

You're needed.

The world's waiting.

Mina reads your face, and you can't tell if she's impressed or disappointed. "Looks like you've got your hands full."

You stand up, help her to her feet, because that's what you do-you take care of your own messes. She's still smiling at you, and you want to tell her how much you wish you could stay.

"It's okay," is all she says, as you tuck your shirt back in and slick your hair down.

She's redoing her own hair, trying to fix it into something presentable. Something less 'I've been fucked raw against a brick wall' and more 'gee, quite a strong wind tonight'.

"I knew from the jump you didn't have the time."

You're blurting out, "I can make more."

"Not even money can buy that."

Your phone rings again.

Mina's eyes follow the screen, the glow lighting up her face. Ethereal. Yeah, that's the word for how she looks. You've never been sure of the definition but you're certain it fits.

And when she stands on her toes to kiss your cheek, to bid you farewell, she holds onto your shoulder long enough to whisper her address in your ear. "I'll be waiting. If you can get away."

"Why don't I just come with you now?"

She laughs-but it's empty, almost a little sad. "Because, you have a job to do, and I have an appearance to keep up. And unlike you, I'm not quite sure I'm ready to broadcast to the whole world who I'm fucking. Or who I'm going to fuck. If he's not late, that is."

And with a quiet breath, she's gone.

A ghost in the moonlight, slipping away like she's been painted out of existence, leaving you with the memory of her on your mouth and the ache she's leaving in your cock.

You turn back to the gala.

The air feels somewhat colder.

-

The rest of the evening goes far, far too slowly for your liking.

While your absence has been noted, the whispers and glances are more curious than concerned. They don't know where you've been, and one of your assistants is kind enough to fetch you a new shirt to replace the one that's smudged with lipstick and makeup and Mina, before any real juicy rumours can start.

You try, and fail, to get things moving as quickly as possible:

(A business rival pulls you aside to congratulate you on the recent product launch-You're just thinking about Mina's ass.

A board member sings your praises about last quarter's earnings, how you're really sticking it to those idiots that forecasted a downturn-You're only thinking about sticking it between Mina's thighs.

A reporter that sneaked in wants to know if you're planning another acquisition so soon after the last one-Yes, you're going to acquire Mina; find somewhere far away from here with another wall to pin her against and make her scream and ache all over for you.)

Thankfully, your assistant is at the ready before you can really make a scene, dragging you over to the stage and pulling you out of this shit show.

'Just stepped away for some air' is what you had assured her when she took the shirt off your hands, but really, there's no point trying to hide it.

She's seen that look before, that glow that you can't quite wipe off.

But she's loyal, she doesn't ask questions. Just tells you that you're on in five, and that in the meantime, she'll make sure the driver is ready for a quick exit.

So, you force yourself to smile, address the faces that meld together into a wall of teeth.

Make a speech that's just a rush of words that you've recited countless times before. Innovation and growth, the future of the company, the same spiel from the annual report wrapped up in a shiny new bow.

But none of it matters. You're not even hearing yourself speak. You're hearing the echoes of Mina's moans, feeling the tremble of her thighs as you devoured her, replaying her orgasm in your mind again and again.

You can't wait to get off this fucking stage.

The second the applause dies down, you're off like a shot. The podium forgotten; the spotlight cold on your back. You grab your phone and slip out of the garden, dodging the eager hands that reach out for just a second of your time.

You find your driver waiting, just as instructed; Mina's address already punched in the navigation.

Just go, drop me off. Don't stick around. I'll call you to pick me up in the morning.

-

"It was cerulean," is Mina's amused answer to your admittedly idiotic question.

Not your best moment, to be fair. You raced up to her apartment so quickly that you really didn't have anything more intelligent to say than 'what happened to your dress?' and 'I wanted to know what colour it was'.

But still, show you the person living or dead that could have said anything coherent when being greeted by Mina, opening the door to her apartment-so unashamedly smug, and so very naked.

So what if you just stood there and stared?

Stared at the curves and dips, the way her hair cascades over her shoulders in inky waves, damp from a shower; making it cling to her skin, drape over her collarbone, her breasts. The nipples peeking straight at you, dusky, pointed, waiting the return of your tongue. Her pussy winking between her thighs, a treasure hidden in a sea of smooth flesh.

You don't know whether to apologise for your lack of eloquence or thank her for being so incredibly distracting.

You kind of want to request that she turn around.

Mina laughs at what is certainly a stupid expression colouring your face; folds her arms across her chest, crosses one leg over the other. "Waiting for me to offer you a drink?"

You blink. "Thought you already gave me one."

She scrunches her nose, answers, "I was only being polite."

"I think we're well past that."

There's that gravity again; shifting around Mina, tilting the world towards her until she's pulling you into her apartment and you're kicking the door closed behind you.

"Then hurry up and take me upstairs."

-

There's a part of you that feels like you should warn Mina when she tells you:

"Look, you've kept me waiting too fucking long. I need your cock, your cum inside of me. Right now. Before it's too late and I change my mind. So, just please, please, please-"

But those kind of thoughts are lost halfway up the staircase; when you both decide that you just can't wait anymore, and your hands are back on her hips and your tongue is pushing into her throat.

Her fault, really.

Stripping you down the hallway, leaving a trail of your clothes through her kitchen; taking you by the cock. Firm, confident pumps as she leads you through her penthouse, refusing to give you a moment to breathe.

Because she's obsessed with it. Obsessed with how it fills her hand, how it jumps at her touch, how it throbs when she squeezes it, strokes it.

"So big for me," Mina's says-to you, to herself, to your cock. "So perfectly, impossibly, big for me."

You're never going to make it to the top.

Pressing her up against the banister, kissing her, hard. Deep, bruising kisses, because now that you're out of the garden you don't give a fuck if you're leaving marks.

You just want her to remember this night, to feel it in every pulse and every breath.

Make her think of you when she's with him, if she can even go back to him after this. Because you'll both know that she's yours even when she's not.

"You're going to ruin me, you know that?"

You look into Mina's eyes. You can see it all, how the rest of the night will play out. You and Mina, tangled in her apartment. You and Mina, on top of the kitchen island. You and Mina, against the shower walls, on the living room floor, maybe even on the balcony.

You and Mina, until the sun rises.

You kiss her harder. "Is that a request?"

"Of course it is."

Because now you actually have the time to appreciate her, to let your hands wander.

They glide over her body, mapping it out again, but slower this time. You've had your fill of the frantic touches, the greedy need. This is something else. This is savouring.

You start with your thumb at her navel, tracing the line down to her hips, then back up against to the base of her ribcage. It's the feel of the muscles in her stomach tensing and relaxing as you touch her, the inhale and the exhale. How ridiculously tiny her waist feels in your hand, how your palm fits so perfectly into the curve of her side that you swear she's been tailored for you.

Mina chokes on her breath as she tells you, "You're going to have to stop, or we're not going to make it to the bedroom."

You don't even slow down. You just don't care.

Your hand rises, higher, finds her breasts again; cupping it in your palm. A thumb rolls over her nipple.

You pinch. She gasps.

You smile into her neck. "So, so, sensitive."

Mina's so willing, so keen to give herself over to you, to your touch. You've proven yourself to her already, made her cum with just your fingers and tongue. Now it's just a matter of doing it all over again-but slower, better, more thorough.

You palm her breasts, rolling and pinching them until they've been given the attention they deserve, until she's panting through your teases and caresses. Kneading the soft flesh beneath your hand and making her arch into your touch.

"You're really going to take your time, aren't you?" Mina mewls, half-sigh, half-plead. Grinding herself into you, making a shimmering mess on your waist. "Going to torture me until I can't breathe."

"It is your fantasy."

Pull her closer, take a handful of that perfect ass once again. It hasn't really been that long since you last had it in your hands but it's all you've had on your mind. What it looks like under proper lighting, what it feels like without the dress in the way. What kind of noises will she make when you grope, and she doesn't have to worry about anyone overhearing.

Press and squeeze, dig your fingers into her flesh. Not rough, but firm. Leaving little spots of red that will be gone by the morning.

Slide your finger down, down between her cheeks, and deeper, pressing into the sweet heat of her ass.

And then you feel it.

Her asshole. Wet and slick. Prepared.

A wink. A laugh. "Not my fault you're predictable."

You can't fucking wait anymore.

She'll just have to settle for the staircase.

Grab her by the hips-her ass, and pull her down with you onto the steps, her legs straddling you as you sit down.

Take her in-all of her. The curve of her, the line of her spine, the fucking paradise that's her cheeks. Unbelievable.

You kiss into her back, follow down that trail right to where it swells, feeling the heat of her skin against your lips. You're going to ruin this ass; permanently plant your flag there, mark it as property of you and your cock until she can't take a seat without cursing your name.

Mina's shoulders tense when you pause, and she looks back over to you. There's a flash of nerves in her eyes, a gasp of "Here?" that's so faint you almost don't catch it.

Another kiss into her skin, you murmur, "Here's perfect, Mina," and she sighs when your finger presses against that puckered ring, cold with lubricant, made as ready as she's ever going to be.

It's the preparation that gets you; the idea of her in anticipation for you, for this, making sure she's nice and primed. Mina at the store, still wearing that dress, fresh from her orgasm, buying lube. Mina in her bathroom, stripping herself bare, toying with her asshole, making it perfect for you.

And Mina, now, eyes clenched shut, breaths heavy as your digit is pushing through, slipping into her, and she's so fucking tight around it.

"Oh my god," she hisses through her teeth, a quiver in her legs as you push deeper into her tight channel.

Your hands shoot to her thighs to steady her, a reassuring anchor to keep her from toppling over as your finger fills her completely, twisting and turning, slowly but surely easing her into the idea of being taken.

It's the moans that get you, the sighs as you intrude inside her. She's so responsive, her breaths skipping and her pussy already starting to gush, coating your finger, your thighs, the steps below.

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah-yes," Mina stutters, her footing slips just so, but she catches herself on the banister. "It's-it's intense. So intense. But don't stop, I can take it. I want-I want more. I need this. I need this now, before-before I take all of you inside of me."

"You want more?" You repeat her words, before giving her what she needs-adding a second finger, pressing them in deep, making sure she's good and open. The lube helps, but it's the eagerness that gets her most of the way there; it's that trust that she has in you, her willingness to let you take her here, in this way.

"Yes, please," Mina cries, doing everything she can to not collapse on top of you, to not come completely apart.

You're merciless, adding a third finger, stretching her until she's panting, until she's crying out, making this noise, this hushed whimper that takes the shape of your name.

"Please, please, please," Mina whispers to herself, pushing back against you, starting to rock back onto your hand, taking your fingers into her ass.

"Not yet, Mina, not yet," you tell her, because even though she's close, even though she's begging, you want her to be absolutely fucking desperate for your cock when the moment comes.

You reach around her with your other hand, finding that button, already swollen and begging for attention. Playing with it, gently at first, a soft pressure to help her let go, to allow herself to let her voice echo up the staircase and through the penthouse.

God, how is she this sensitive, reactive to every little touch, to every exploration of her cunt, her ass, her body.

It's the ceremony of it all; this lurid, obscene ritual that you're walking her through. Making her ass bounce on your hand in this hypnotic movement, making her stretch around your fingers, making her repeat your name over and over until she's convinced herself that all of her belongs to you.

These perfect, near-silent sighs. This unbelievable tightness. Mina's body, turning itself into a fucking playground for your touch; to do with it as you will. Even if it means ruining her.

And it's when you have her creaming all over you; down her thighs, making a mess of herself with these pushes and pulls, these declarations of how ready she is for you, that her body shakes with one last, long shiver.

She cums.

Softly, soundlessly, another cry of your name dying on her lips. A hand to your wrist to stop you abruptly, panting.

Tiny, tiny shivers, twitches in her thighs, around your fingers, leaving her barely there, barely with you. Head hanging low, chest heaving, catching her breath, putting herself back together again.

Time stretches before she's cognisant again, and she turns back, looking over her shoulder and straight at you. Eyes half-lidded, hazy, dripping with lust, anticipation, burning with need.

Deep, heavy breaths. And then Mina says the most devastating thing:

"I'm ready. Fuck my ass. Now. Please."

A gunshot in the quiet of her home, rumbling through your bones.

Your fingers leave her ass, her cunt with a wet pop, forcing a whine from her throat at the sudden emptiness. A look at her asshole, how it clenches and unclenches, beckoning for you to fill it, to claim it as your own.

"Good girl."

Holding her by the hips, lining her ass with your cock, nudging her opening with your tip and making her shiver. You don't go in immediately; you hover, giving her one last out, to really see if she's absolutely certain.

Mina trembles. Nods. That's all the invitation you need.

"God, I-"

You push in, slow and steady, eyes on her ass as she takes you. So fucking tight, so intense, you can feel every part of her squeezing, accommodating you, moulding itself around your girth and swallowing you whole.

"Take it slow, darling, take it slow," you whisper into her skin, guiding her down, telling her how good she's doing, how good she is for you, how much you love her tightness, her trust.

It seems impossible at first, the grip she has on you, like you'll never get in. But inch by agonising inch, she takes you, and it's nothing short of total heaven.

Mina, so fucking beautiful in this moment of raw vulnerability; all sharp inhales and strained quivers wrecking through her, voice shaky as she tells you, "I've never felt anything like this, I never thought-fuck-I never thought I could take anything like this."

"You're doing so good," you kiss your words into her, wrapping your arms around her, holding her.

"I can-I can do better," she gasps, and you believe her.

But you still go slow, so painfully slow, even though every fibre of your being is screaming at you to just dig into her hips and slam into that glorious fucking ass and never look back.

"I can take it," Mina breathes, "Do it, I can take it. I want all of you. In my ass. I can handle it."

Mina nods, clenches her ass, her cheeks firming up around your throbbing cock.

"I want it to hurt so good."

No more convincing required. You push in deeper, make her back stiffen, her muscles contract, making her cry.

It's a dance, a delicate ballet of bodies, of breath and touch, of your cock inside Mina's ass. Lost in it, in the feel of skin on skin, the sound of wet, needy noises that she's making, her shudders in your arms.

Until finally, with a strangled gasp, she's fully seated. You're buried in her tight, hot ass, basking in the warmth of her, leaving you both winded and struggling for air.

Stillness overrides the moment, because it's too perfect, too overwhelming, and the feeling. You need to get used to the feeling.

You break the silence first. "Mina?"

"I know. I know."

A kiss against her neck, scraping the soft skin there. A whisper in her ear, your breath hot and ragged.

"I'm going to fuck your ass now."

You always keep your promises.

Mina answers by leaning back into you, her hand finding yours, her nails running along your fingers as if to say, "Yes, please, now."

Moving, so slow it's almost painful. The drag of her ass around your cock like nothing you've ever felt before-like you're sliding through warm, velvet-covered steel.

"Fuck, yes, please," with every inch you pull out, and "Too much, so good, too fucking much," when you push back in, deeper and deeper still.

It builds and builds, this sweet agony, each pass in her ass faster, harder, turning Mina's cries and wails into moans of pure bliss. It takes time and long, hard fucking for her body to relax into this rhythm, letting you take her, own her.

A vision above you, sweat glistening on her back, hair matted and sticking to her shoulders, and Mina's ass, a snug ring around your cock. You watch as your cock slides out of her, the way her ass clenches around the head, holding on for just a second before pushing all the way back down.

You can't help but groan, "Christ," as she moves on top of you like that. So gracefully, so beautifully, so fucking obscenely on your cock.

"Thank you-God-thank you, thank you, thank you." Mina's moans are pure music to your ears, she's babbling, talking through the pain, through the pleasure. "So, so good, filling me like-fuck-never been filled up like this."

And as you push on, push further and further until your cock is melting inside her, burning her up in every way she's ever dared to dream, you can see the smile curling onto Mina's face. It's pride, you're realising. Proud of herself, proud of how she can take you, how she can handle this kind of depraved ecstasy.

"It feels so deep."

Tearing her open. Revealing the tender, delicate core beneath the glamour, the lights, the unreal beauty that is Mina. Leaving her sobbing, pleading, whining for more, more, more.

Bouncing on you now, each more assured than the last, cries of nothing but need. Opening up to accept you fully, completely, her ass a tight fucking sleeve for you, coming down and wrapping itself around you like a searing hot second skin.

You know the truth, but you still want to hear it.

"How many?"

Mina has her answer ready: "You're the-you're the first."

You grin. A smug, triumphant baring of teeth that spreads from ear to ear. "I have no fucking idea how that's possible. How nothing has ever been up this tight, perfect little asshole."

"Oh, there's been toys," Mina moans, strained and shaky as you pump into her, "But you're just the first that's real."

"Then your boyfriend is a fucking idiot," you growl into her ear, your hand moving to her throat, gently clasping, making her gasp, making her eyes go wide with shock, with excitement. "He doesn't know what he has."

"Enough about my boyfriend," Mina's quick to answer, snapping, her head thrown back, eyes screwed shut. "Even though-even if-he wouldn't, couldn't dream of filling me like this. Filling me up so much that it hurts, so much that-fuck, it feels so right, so fucking right-"

"You love this, don't you, Mina?" You ask, but all Mina can do is nod vigorously, too overrun by the fucking to form words. "Underneath it all, you're just a dirty slut for it, aren't you? Letting me use this pretty, tight ass like this."

"I-" she stutters, right before confessing, "I love it."

She slams her hips down on you, the stairs groaning with each thrust, not built to withstand this kind of punishment.

"I love that it's you, love that you're the first. I can't believe it-just-I need it. I need your cock in me, so deep-I need you, I need you, I need you-so please don't stop."

"I would never dream of stopping."

Never.

Not when she's begging like this, her voice hoarse and her body quaking. When she sighs and shivers every time you fuck a little faster, push a little harder, testing just how much she can take.

Tits jiggling with every thrust, cunt leaking all the way down your thighs, ass puckering and loosening.

Her whole body, yours.

Yours for the taking. Mina's divine body, in all its sharp planes and ridged muscles, squeezing and coiling at every juncture, every penetration setting her alight.

You declare it, even though it doesn't need to be said. "Made for me."

"Yes," she's nodding. Or rather, letting her head fall into one. "God yes."

"Just been waiting for me for so long, haven't you? Been waiting for the right cock to come along and split you in half." You're saying these things, these stinging words that you fuck into Mina, send shooting through her like sparks. She's a live-wire, a fucking blackout waiting to happen.

Weeping down her thighs, choking out every whine, "Yes," she whispers, "yes, yes, yes, been needing to be ruined. Needing it, needing you. So much, so much, so-fucking-right-"

"Fucking criminal that you had to wait," you're saying, loving this, so enraptured by all of it. "But I'm here now."

Mina shivers, pussy clenches, and she just can't stop saying, "Yours, yours, yours-"

Completely, totally yours, now.

You know it. She knows it.

It's written in the way she takes your cock, in the way she loses herself to you, loses all semblance of composure and decorum, peels back all the carefully curated layers that make her Mina, until all there is to see and touch is the raw, unfiltered need that you've unleashed from underneath.

"Touch me, fuck me, take me, take my ass, I need more-"

Again, your fingers find her folds, sticky and swollen and waiting.

You touch her, press down on her clit. Circling it with the same rhythm as your hips. Striking a match in a dark room, lighting up her body in this blaze.

The noises that it all makes; the slosh of your fingers at her cunt, the squelch of your cock invading her ass, so fucking explicit, so fucking filthy.

She's erratic, breath catching, throat pulsing against your fingers, and she somehow, impossibly, clenches even more around you, suffocating your cock with just her tight, tight ass.

You keep that same tempo. That desperate, fucking unyielding beat that's going to make her come, going to turn this idol, this mystery, this drop-dead fucking gorgeous woman who should belong to someone else but is now screaming proudly just how much she's yours, into nothing but a trembling mess of whimpers and whines.

"More, fuck-oh my god, oh my fucking god-it's so fucking good-so good-so fucking good-"

She's reaching her peak-her voice, her body, her cunt, her ass-all of her reaching that perfect crescendo of pleasure that you've been orchestrating, that you've been waiting for.

"I've never-no one's ever-fuck, fuck, fuck-"

Sinking into her, making her feel like she's being torn apart and remade with every stroke, making her feel nothing like she's ever felt before, making her feel like nothing but your fucking whore.

So, so close, barrelling towards it now, all these tears running down her cheeks, these filthy words slipping from her lips. Coming apart in your arms, because she's never been this filled, this complete.

"Going to-going to cum-fuck me, harder, harder-going to cum all over your cock-" Mina tells you, a warning, the last one you get before she screams, "Too good-filling me-so good-give it to me-God-I can never go back-"

She shatters. Monumentally.

Into a million tiny pieces of pleasure, each one more brilliant than the last.

Her body spasms, her ass squeezes so fucking tight around your cock that you can feel the orgasm ripping through her, up her spine, through her throat, until she's crying out and it's hitting your ears-

"Oh my God, I'm going to-just, say my name-please, say my name when I-"

"Mina," you say, and she cums.

"Mina," you repeat when her pussy floods over your hand, ass smothers your cock.

"Mina," again when it ripples across her skin, leaves her in fits, uncontrollable quakes, consumed by pure, unfiltered joy.

You watch the whole thing-watch her scream your name, watch her shake and quiver and fall apart, right there on your cock; and you're fucking her through it all, fucking her well past it, chanting "Mina" over and over again.

You'll never forget this, never forget this sight-this woman, this star, built up and broken down just for you.

"Mine," you bite into her ear, because now, it's true.

Mina's barely there, eyes glassy, hand cradling your face. But she's able to say it, because it's branded into every bone of her body: "Yours."

It's a complete disaster.

And now you're cumming.

Brand new sensations, devastation in full measure-your soul ripped from your chest, until all that's left is this impulsive, overwhelming need to give her your all, your everything-to fill her entire existence with just you.

You drive your cock into her once more, impaling her deep, and let go.

It floods her, rushes inside her, spills and spills.

Mina can't do anything but feel it-every pulse, every spurt. She throws her head back, her mouth open in this silent plea, satisfaction painted across her face as your heat surges inside her. Her ass milks you, needy for every drop, so, so thirsty for it.

"It's-cumming inside my ass-so, so nice, keep cumming for me."

You hold onto her, throb inside her, pump ropes into her, and there's a kiss-hot and clumsy-somewhere in the midst of it all, your mouths colliding and tongues wrapping around each other in a futile attempt to last just that little bit longer.

Getting all dizzy and spellbound, floating back down to the ground as the last waves of your climaxes start to subside, until one of you says, "Thank you," and the other echoes it back.

You stay like that, swallowed up inside her, dripping out of her ass. Lowering one hand from her throat, rising the other from her pussy, pulling her into an embrace, keeping her as close as you can while you both try to put yourselves back together.

It's sex that soaks the air, fills the penthouse-sweat, lube, the musk of all the evidence you're leaving behind. Intoxicating, breathing it in, setting your nerves alight, rousing your cock inside her all over again.

But Mina, she's a stunning catastrophe, torn asunder in all the best ways. Perfection not marred, but made better. Completed. Looking up at you with wonder, with gratitude, with a smile.

You look down at her and admit it, "Perfect."

Mina laughs out loud, "Disastrously perfect."

"This is going to be a problem, isn't it?"

You kiss her once more.

Mina kisses you back.

"Only if we make it one."

-

You think you can read her mind.

And she, yours.

It's the only way any of this makes sense-how perfect you fit together, how well you read each other; fill each other's needs without use of any words outside of curses and names and strangled pleas.

Printed onto your DNA, carved into your bones, these exact pathways you shape through her home and into her skin.

You do make it to the bedroom, somehow.

And then, exactly as predicted:

The shower, where Mina takes you into her mouth, gags herself around you, covers herself in your cum before letting the water wash it all away.

Then the kitchen, polishing off a bottle of wine, slurring promises into Mina's cunt, having her rake the back of your scalp and scream the same promises back into your ears.

And finally, the living room, folding her over the couch, tumbling onto the floor with Mina, riding you so hard the neighbours below start banging on their ceiling in protest.

It's only the balcony that goes untouched.

Maybe another time.

But that's where it ends: sprawled across a lush rug, sticky with sweat and cum and wine, naked and bare. Ignoring the watchful eyes of the photos that line the walls and shelves-family, friends, her boyfriend. Just living in this bubble where the sun will never rise and the world outside ceases to exist.

Getting to know each other in ways few people ever do.

Tracing patterns into the small of her back, asking these questions. Is this what you always imagined you would be doing? How you thought your life would be? Does it ever actually feel enough?

Mina pokes and prods back, her nails lightly scraping against your chest, leaving half-moons in her wake. Do you think you could ever be happy? Do you ever wonder why it's so hard for other people to keep up? Are you fucked up in all the same ways as me?

And it's so easy to answer truthfully, to be honest, because you're both still maintaining the façade of this just being a simple fling; a blip along the timeline of your lives.

The yours and mine of it all, all those promises you were spilling. Just callous words tossed in the throes of passion.

They didn't mean anything real.

Because it's not like you're going to see each other again, not like there's going to be a mess of emotions and consequences that will have to be dealt with in the morning after.

Eventually though, the light does slip through the curtains, the clothes come back on, and you're kissing Mina against the doorway and thinking of a million reasons why you should stay.

"So, how long are we going to pretend that this is normal?" You broach, and it immediately feels like you're breaking some unspoken rule.

Mina's keeping herself busy, hands at your shirt, buttoning it back into place, one by one. Hiding away evidence that her mouth, her lips, her teeth were ever on you.

She looks up at you. Smirks. "Fucking 'til the break of dawn, giving each other orgasms that never quite end? Flooding each one of my holes with your cum?"

You tilt your head.

"I don't know. This whole thing is… unique. Uncharted territory and all."

"It goes without saying, but, yeah. Same for me." You echo, "Unique."

You reach for her, smoothing her hair back. The early morning light makes it shine like a crown of jewels.

"Do you want it to stay that way?"

Mina considers. Leans into your hand. "You think we should make a habit out of this? I didn't pin you for the type."

"Neither did I, but it didn't seem so bad when you were riding me on that couch," you tease. "And in the shower, and on the staircase, and in the kitchen…"

She blushes, lips caught between her teeth, looking like she's struggling to hold in a laugh. There's this glint in her eye as her hand wanders up to your cheek, thumb hovering just shy of your mouth. For a second, you think she's going to kiss you again.

But instead, she just looks at you.

Eyes you with something close to fascination, something that makes your heart stop. And you're reading each other's minds again, knowing you're both going to lie, going to pretend like this was just a one-night thing. Something the two of you can easily wipe your hands with and walk away from like it never even happened.

Because this really is the first time-you've never done anything like this before. Sure you've dipped your toe in the pool of commitment, paddled around in the shallow end, but you've never fallen for someone proper.

Never worried about what someone's going to be doing when you're not there, never thought about whether you'd be better off sticking around to find out.

But you have a job. A company to run.

And Mina, a career. A boyfriend. A life.

So, you don't make plans.

You don't even ask for her number.

You don't need to.

Deep down inside you know you'll find her again.

For now though, you spin your bullshit: "It's probably for the best if we don't, though."

"Probably." Mina agrees, but she can hear the same ticking clock as you.

The timer that's already started, counting down to when she'll inevitably be undoing the same buttons, redrawing the same patchwork of red and pink across your chest, and pulling you into her home and into her; fucking her pussy, her ass, her mouth, in all the ways she needs, until you're spilling out of her all over again.

"Definitely." Mina unlocks the front door. "For the best."

NOVEMBER ft. Somi

somi x male reader smut

9k words

"It's this challenge I'm doing. One whole month-thirty days-without having an orgasm," you're explaining, failing spectacularly at keeping things professional. Something possesses you to add: "No nutting. Hence the name."

Somi just stares at you. Flabbergasted.

Leans forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her palms; tearing your entire existence apart with her eyes.

"Can I just say, and I genuinely mean this in the nicest way possible-but that's the stupidest fucking idea I've ever heard."

-

Here's the conclusion you've arrived at from the one hour you've spent with her: Jeon Somi is some kind of demon.

It's not a joke, it's not some painterly metaphor you're drawing-Somi has clawed her way out from the depths with nothing but a ponytail and an alarmingly tight pair of leggings; arriving on Earth, in the flesh, to make your life a living, breathing, sweat-drenched hell.

So, yeah.

Somi, the succubus. Or something close to that.

It's the only explanation for it really.

See, you're a photographer. Of women, specifically.

Beautiful women in intimate settings, sparse aesthetics. That's your whole deal. Just homing in on the subject, capturing something 'real' without any distractions. Get the essence of who they are when there's no one looking.

Pretentious, sure, but it's what's kept you in demand with the glossy magazines and the avant-garde galleries and the starlets desperate to convince the public that they're more than just the pretty robots their agencies have programmed them to be.

So, suffice to say, you've met all the types.

The innocent idols that need a mountain of coaxing to come out of their shells. The stone-cold divas that barely acknowledge your existence, yet somehow still expect you to anticipate their every demand. And the flirts, willing to do just about anything for the camera with a wink and a nudge, if it means getting an edge on the rest of the industry.

But Somi? She just is.

Pure temptation incarnate, from head to toe, without even trying. Thighs that threaten to strangle your self-control, a waist that makes sinners out of saints, tits that would have physicists reconsidering the very nature of gravity, all topped by a dangerous smile that could melt a fucking igloo with its sheer wattage.

Somi's hot.

She knows it, the world knows it, the public crucifies her for it. And she just takes it all, all of it. Melts it all together and forges it into armour.

And now she's here, in your private space. None of the usual entourage of make-up artists, managers, whatever. Just herself and an absurdly sweet frappé. Looking so comfortable that it's making you feel like you're intruding.

She's leaning on your table, ass flush against the wood, arms crossed, and her eyes-those fathomless dark pools-land on yours, holding them hostage.

Barely has to make any effort when she laces her words together, piles on an unhealthy dose of insinuation, cocks an eyebrow and asks-"So, how do you want me?"

Naked, preferably. On all fours, ass to the sky. Or maybe on her knees, mouth hanging open, tongue out, elbows squeezed together to make her tits sing.

Yeah, you're already composing the perfect shot in your head.

Fuck.

You rub your eyes. Maybe thirty days of self-imposed abstinence has finally broken you, and this is all some kind of feverish hallucination driven by your libido.

But no, Somi is still there, lounging in your studio, all curves and challenge. Just being insanely hot.

You cough, clear your throat. Put on the mask of someone far more professional.

"Anywhere you'd like," you're answering, keeping your expression decidedly blank. This isn't the first time you've been the only outlet for a young sexpot desperate to let off some steam. You have the experience. But again-fuck. Thirty days is far too long. Somi is far too much. "Just keep it natural. Like I'm not even here."

Somi just laughs, sweet and sinful, her whole thing. Pushes off the table with a grace that seems almost supernatural (again, see the demon theory), before adding a thought, like it just sprung up in her pretty head- "Easier said than done."

Distractions aside, all things considered, she's the perfect subject.

Gets what you're going for immediately, makes herself at home amongst your studio's chaos. Glides around the room, runs her fingers over your equipment strewn about-the lights, the lenses, the negatives hanging in the corner.

The sway of her hips, the flex of her back. The dip of her brow and purse of her lips when she asks, "What's this for?", and the genuine interest when she listens to you explain about aperture, and light metres, and so on and so on.

(Snap a photo of her silhouette when she's by the window, leaning against the glass to spy on the passers-by.

Snap a photo of her smile, when you say something that's really not that funny, but she laughs anyway.

Snap a photo of her legs, when she finds a couch to lay on-stretching herself out, showing off their length, the tone of her thighs, the promise kept hidden by her leggings being pulled tighter and tighter.)

Another hour passes quickly, and you take a break there, more for your sanity than her endurance. Leave her to her own devices while you flick through the shots you've managed to get so far.

Only, when you scroll through your laptop, scan through the dozens upon dozens of rapid-fire photos you've taken-it's a horror show.

None of them work.

Not because of her, but because of you.

The way you've shot her. Far too revealing-you've put too much of yourself in these pictures. Turned them from images to confessions. Each one a fucking love letter to her body-her legs, her tits, her lips, her ass, her tits again-everything about her that makes you ache.

It's not art. It's borderline pornographic.

And yet, Somi's still just lying there.

Drinking down another pick-me-up that she's had delivered, this one with enough caffeine to take down several horses, chatting away so casually while you try to stitch your soul back together. Sipping and talking about who-knows-what, throwing out feelers, smiling easily, laughing sincerely, utterly oblivious to the havoc she's wreaking on your self-control.

An effortless grace when she lifts herself off the couch, saunters over to you and leans in far too close, gets far too familiar, lays on far too much charm when she asks, "Mind if I take a look?"

Yeah, you do, but you still force a calmness into your voice that you're certainly not feeling when you turn the laptop so she can see.

"Wow," is her initial review, and now she's touching you, hand on your shoulder, tits pressed up against your arm and you're certain that none of this is accidental, like an oh, just trying to get closer so I can better appreciate the photos you're flipping through, never mind that you're getting a precise estimation of my cup size just from the feeling alone.

Do your best-ignore the pressure, the warmth, the softness. Watch her face, see all the tiny details; her eyes lighting up when she catches something she likes, her thoughtful hum at a particularly good shot. The smacking of her lips, the furrow of her brow, the recognition as you scroll.

One by one, with each photo, her expression morphing from curiosity to understanding.

She notices.

"You're good at this."

You wait for it. "That's all?"

Her eyes glint, "None of these can be used though."

"I know."

The screen's frozen on a particularly compromising shot: there's Somi's face, barely in it, just the bottom-half, her lips pouting out and looking all plump and delicious. Camera angled up high, pointing down the dip of her tight, sheer top and the shadowy valley that makes up her cleavage. Scanning down to her legs, folded to the side beneath her, the squish of her ass cheeks over her heels, spilling into the corner of the screen.

Sin, captured in fifty megapixels, barely contained inside a four by six frame.

A submissive dream.

"These for your personal collection, or-" and when she catches the heat rising up the back of your neck, changing directions, "-not that I mind, as long as I get a copy."

Clearly finding all this much funnier than you are-that smile's a knife to your chest. So sharp and knowing; it would have you gasping for air, if only you'd look.

Keep it cool, play it off with a shrug, "We'll try again."

"I doubt we'll get any different results," Somi's predicting, bouncing on her toes now, getting closer and closer until she doesn't need to make much of an effort to make herself heard. Close enough that she could feel you now, if she wanted to. Just brush her fingers over you and get a good idea of the reason why this photoshoot is going so far off the rails.

She instead leans her chin onto your shoulder, breath hot against your cheek. Like throwing a match on gasoline.

All the power of this girl, this woman, wrapped up in a single gesture. Wielding it so freely, so innocently, so easily. Heat that's self-aware, that knows just how much it's burning.

You caution, "Keep it professional."

"Doesn't that run counter to the whole aesthetic. I thought we were going for raw?"

"Natural."

"What's the difference?"

You need to stop yourself, shut the laptop, end the session right now before it's much too late. Before you're turning to her and realising just how close her lips are to yours, just how tiny her waist is compared to your hands, and you're saying the words that will end all semblance of propriety and professionalism- "With you, I don't think there is one."

"Well as long as we agree," and Somi's turning away, striding back to the couch, leaving you to breathe again. Making you thankful for the space, but missing the suffocation of her heat all at once.

Plopping herself down on the cushions, one leg folded under the other, leggings so thin you can see the shape of her underneath. Natural, just like you asked-looking like she's the only one here that's exactly where she wants to be.

You're thinking you're off the hook.

Maybe you can get back to work.

Only, "So, it's been a while, then?"

"Somi," you're saying her name for the first time, officially, and it's coming out far too strangled. Far too needy. She loves the sound.

"Come on, humour me."

"Somi," again, you're trying, clearing out the cobwebs from your throat.

"Sir."

What the fuck.

She doesn't move. Waits patiently for your answer.

You give her the inch, knowing she'll take the mile.

Raking a hand through the back of your head. "Thirty days."

The look on Somi's face is apoplectic. You're glad you have the wherewithal to capture it.

"It's a-" and you're feeling quite stupid as you explain it to her in detail; the abstinence for a month, the purpose of it all, the supposed benefits, "challenge."

That sends Somi ranting, hands flailing in the air. Incredulous, at you, at this challenge, at the idea of putting yourself through this self-imposed torture. "Stupidest fucking idea I've ever heard."

And then, when she sees your face.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, I know."

"But seriously. Thirty days? And not once."

Your voice is dry. "No."

"Not even by accident?"

"I don't think that's possible."

"Wet dreams, nothing? No jerking it? No sex? At all?" Somi's bursting out laughing, hand flying to cover her mouth, barely even able to breathe. It's so absurd to her.

And it doesn't take long before she puts it all together. Processes the information, sees the picture she's painted of you. The sad, desperate artist, with nothing but a dying hunger and a camera. Realises the predicament you've put yourself in just by having her here.

She's not laughing any more.

"And so you chose today, November 30th, to schedule me?"

You're very, clearly frustrated. "Not my choice."

"I see." She bites her lip. Angles herself just so.

"Dial it back."

"Tell that to your boner."

You look down. Pants distinctly flat.

Somi's grinning. "Made you look."

"Are you done?" You ask, forcing yourself to look away from her, busying your hands by screwing on a different lens, as if it'll somehow make her appear any less distracting, like it'll blur out all your worst intentions and bring back some actual decorum to this whole fiasco. "We don't have much time left."

Turning back to her, raising your camera, aiming straight and true and-

Somi, unzipping her heels, kicking them across the floor with a dramatic flourish.

Snap.

Somi, lifting her top up and over her head, stretching her arms up high to push her breasts out forward; making them tight, outlined, so obviously pebbled against the cotton of her bra.

Snap.

Somi, digging her thumbs into the waistband of her tights, pointing her legs up in the air so she can peel them off without getting up, thrusting her hips up off the couch to yank them over her ass.

Snap.

"Somi," you're saying again, because apparently, you've forgotten how to make other words.

"Just doing what feels natural," she says, smile turning wicked, reaching behind her back to unclasp and oh, now she's completely naked. Rearranging herself into this pose. As if she isn't already the centre of your universe.

Thirty days, flushed directly down the drain.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

-

You've found it, the perfect photograph.

Somi, kneeling on the couch, hands folded on her lap, staring down the barrel of your camera with her tits out. Unreal. Works of art, both of them. Miracles of flesh, gravity be damned.

"You're not taking any photos," she points out.

You swallow hard. "I'm taking it in."

Her hands come up to cup her breasts, giving them a bounce. For fun. For you. For the look on your face. You capture the jiggle. "Good, because I'd hate to think all this was going to waste."

It's a little fucked up, how right Somi is. You wanted raw, honest-here it is, Somi as she kneels. Just being herself, being the woman everyone accuses her of being-the sinner, the whore, the slut.

Being the woman she knows she is, with everything that it implies-the confidence, the appeal, the fucking powerhouse of magnetic attraction. Not an image being projected, not a role she's playing, but the reality of her, shooting straight into your veins, raw sex personified-as natural as breathing.

And before you know it, you're capturing her lips with yours, an 'mmmph' slipping out from her as your mouths collide and your tongues meet.

It's not intentional, it just happens. You lean in, she's hot, she smells like heaven and sin wrapped in a neat little bow and you're kissing her.

Tongue finds hers, attacks, retreats, joins and intertwines, and it's everything you imagined it would be turned all the way up-sweeter, hotter, and so much more fucking dangerous.

Lips head south, tongue sliding along her neck, teeth on her shoulder, kisses into her collarbone; and finally, you're at her breasts.

Softer than a dream, tasting like pure addiction; you kiss the tops of her breasts, lap up all the sweat that's beaded down in between. Drag your tongue down, follow the curve, the dip, and ending at the hard little points poking against your lips. Filling your mouth with as much of it as you can-licking, suckling, making a complete mess of spit on her chest, and then biting, just a little, just to make her moan.

"So this is what denial does to a man, hm?" Somi slithers into your ears, under your skin, hands at the back of your head and holding you in place.

She arches into you, pushing herself closer, letting you taste, indulge. Feast on what you've been missing out over this long stretch of days.

And fuck, maybe it is the abstinence, the pent-up need, or maybe it's the fact that tits in general are just fucking incredible things. Or maybe, just maybe, it's that it's Somi, in all her outrageously perfect glory, so happy to be the one that gets to ruin you, that's making you feel like you're going to spontaneously combust.

Not that it matters one bit.

Not that there's any thoughts at all in your head; there's just Somi's tits and your tongue. Lapping it up like you're trying to drink her in, memorise every contour, every curve, every little goosebump you induce with each swipe of your tongue.

Somi's tits; a canvas, and your mouth's painting the picture of a lifetime.

"Baby," Somi coos, hands on the side of your face, lifting you up off the cushions of her breasts. She's giggling, her fingers wiping at the strings of drool that you hadn't even realised you'd been leaving behind. "Remember what we're here for?"

Right.

The camera. The art. The job. The no-touching rule.

But your mind is a blurry mess of tits and need, and all your blood has headed south for the afternoon, and it's making you feel like you're melting from the inside out.

"Let me give you a hand." Somi's gentle with you, like you're a stick of dynamite with a frayed wick, just the slightest touch and you'll blow.

She takes your hand, fingers brushing against yours, little sparks of electricity making your hairs stand on end, and lifts your camera up to point directly at her.

And then, she smirks. As if to say, yeah, she's read all your thoughts; seen straight into you and has discovered the vault where you've kept every one of your deepest, darkest impulses locked up for thirty long days.

Somi repositions herself. Poses her body, determined to bring every single filthy, desperate, starving fantasy of yours to life.

Reclining back into the couch, thighs apart, spreading her legs wide.

Showing off her cunt.

Bare and gleaming. Shaven clean-just this perfect, pink, wet little pussy calling out to you. Open like a fucking invitation.

You're staring.

She waits for you to catch up.

"Now would be a good time to start using that camera."

You take a step back. Heart racing, hands shaking; you're usually so much better than this. Take a deep breath, lift the camera, do your job, make your art, capture as much as you can while you have fucking perfection putting herself on display for you.

The click, the shutter echoing through the studio.

It makes Somi sigh.

Her eyes find the lens, locking down her target. A fucking miracle of biology, that's Somi. Born to have cameras on her, as in love with them as they are with her.

Her fingers dip, trace down over her ludicrously tiny waist, her abs, her bellybutton, stopping short of her mound. Dancing over her pussy, light as a feather.

Fucking grinning as she asks, "Like what you see?"

The camera's flash answers for you.

Touching herself, stroking, circling, pressing down. Building a crescendo that you can see painted on her; through the tensing of her abs, the heaving of her breasts, her cheeks going pink, her breaths getting shorter, and her lips parting to moan.

You're barely conscious of the fact that you're talking under your breath, a singular demand- "Keep going."

"Yes, sir."

Thirty days of denial has turned you into a starving man, only for Somi to show up and make herself a full-course feast. The perfect model, but also the worst fucking thing possible for your resolve.

You take a deep breath, grip the camera tighter.

If you're going to crack, you might as well go out with a bang.

Guiding her, as if she was any other client, and this was just another photoshoot- "Open your legs wider, Somi. Show me everything."

Her eyes widen, pupils dilate. Sparks, excitement, lighting them up. She does as she's told, pushing out her knees further, sinking down into the couch cushions.

Thighs quivering, pussy sopping wet and pulsing. All for you. For your camera.

Another click, the shutter again, like a time-bomb ticking down to your doom.

"Play with your clit. Tease it."

Her hand obeys, delicate, slender fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, hips bucking slightly with each pass. The noises she makes are obscene. Harsh, breathy whispers that make you throb; moans that get caught in the back of her throat.

It's a rush of blood straight to the head, an almost dizzying sensation, having Somi so eagerly following your every command. Her face says it all, this slut positively loves being told what to do.

"Keep it light. That's it," you say, stepping closer, hitting your marks, your angles. "Turn to me. I want to see your face."

"Like this?" Somi breathes, turning to face you fully, her hand still playing with herself, stroking in a way that's almost cruel-so gentle, so teasing, so obviously designed to make you lose your mind. "Getting the pictures you've been dreaming of? Someone like me all spread out for you?"

You nod, jaw clenched, keeping steady. Or at least, you think you are, considering how good Somi's making this for you.

Making sure you get the right shots of her-her pussy, swollen and puffy, dripping down a puddle onto your couch. Her tits; pinched until they're hard and sensitive, a vivid red against the stark white of her skin. Her eyes, wide and wild and looking straight down the lens, communicating her arousal in a million different heated ways without saying a single word.

Let it be known; Somi knows exactly what she's doing.

Knows when to sigh, knows how to arch her back, knows in which direction to pout her lips. Knows how to make every click of the camera count.

"Good girl," you're telling her, praising her, and it's enough to make her keen.

"Am I?"

"Of course," you say, leaning in closer, close enough to feel the heat of her body, a furnace against your skin. See the sweat dripping down her thighs, tiny little droplets shimmering against the muscle, begging to be licked away. "You're doing so good, Somi. So, so good."

You're getting closer now, kneeling. All for the sake of the perfect shot.

Seeing her fingers work, spreading herself open, exposing her folds, glistening. Her clit standing tall and proud. Her entrance pulsing, waiting to be filled. It's like watching a masterpiece come to life, a photo that's been taken a thousand times before but never quite captured right. Until now. Until Somi.

Somi's smiling down at you, all knowing, all tempting, making your mouth water, and it takes all your self-discipline to not drop the camera and replace your lens with your tongue.

She laughs, low and throaty. "Looks like you're enjoying the view."

"You have no idea, Somi," you answer, adding, "But you can make it better, can't you? Make it wetter. Hotter."

"Mmhmm," she agrees, getting to work at making your instructions real. She's a professional too, after all. A master of her craft. Her other hand snakes down to join her first; one hand pressing firmly down on her clit, the other plunging two fingers up into her cunt. Pushing in, curling, until it's hitting that sweet spot that makes her preen.

"Perfect, Somi."

You're transfixed, as Somi starts to fuck herself in earnest, the camera almost forgotten in your hand. She's so drenched that every stroke is accompanied by a wet, slick sound; and the way she's creaming around her digits, dripping down her wrist, it's far beyond a simple performance being put on for the sake of a photograph. It's the real deal.

Somi's breaths come faster, her eyes glaze over, and she's biting down on her bottom lip, trying to keep from crying out too loudly.

You know you're getting the best of her, can see it across her face: this is what she truly enjoys. Being watched, being desired, being told what to do all for your pleasure.

"Oh, baby," she's barely managing hushed, strained whispers, "Oh, oh, oh…"

You feel like you're in a trance, your own hand wandering down, needing to adjust lest you rip right through your jeans. The sight alone is devastating enough, but it's making you swell, until there's no point in trying to hide it anymore.

"That looks so," Somi's licking her lips, seeing the state you're in, seeing the desperation in your eyes, the strain down below, "Nice."

The camera is your anchor, your north star in this whole mess. You keep it steady, even as Somi's breaths grow shallower, turn to pants. Losing herself to you, to the moment, to being captured in all her vulnerability.

She's fucking herself even faster now, fingers sawing in and out of her pussy, wetter and wetter still, knuckles turning white with the force she's applying.

"You're doing so good, Somi, such a good girl for me," you're reassuring her, unable to hold back your own need, your own desire from leaking into your voice. It's a battle, a war really, against your own urges, your innate desire to just drop everything and dive into her, feel her tightness around you, make her scream out your name.

But it's too soon, Somi's too close, and it would be a fucking crime to stop her.

"Baby," she gasps, the word a prayer and a taunt in equal measure, "Baby, I don't think I can last any longer."

You're grinning now, heart racing, camera at the ready. "Good."

Somi's on a knife's edge, balancing on the precipice of climax. You can see it in how her body's seizing, how she throws her head back, exposing her neck to you-needing your kiss, your bite, your claim. But you resist, intent on capturing every moment of her unravelling.

Because you want to know. Want to capture it. How she cums. What sounds she makes, what noises she can't keep in. What she looks like when she falls apart.

"Cum for me, Somi," you're telling her, "I want to capture it all."

Somi trembles. She wants it too.

Her eyes screw shut, her breath hitches, and she's there, sinking back into the couch, letting out this sweet little gasp of anticipation.

The studio goes silent except for the sound of her fingers in her cunt and the shuttering of your camera.

In, out, snap.

In, out, snap.

Fucking herself. Fucking you with her very existence.

And then-"I'm going to-"

Her body arches off the couch, a scream ripping from her throat, her hand working furiously, pussy clenching so sweetly around her fingers. It's the type of photo people spend entire careers never getting to capture, the most beautifully obscene sight you've ever been lucky to witness-Somi, in the throes of pleasure, wracked by her own orgasm, all for the sake of your camera.

It hits her hard and fast and all at once, turns her body into a bow, taut and tense, before it's released, snapped, melting her down into a boneless puddle.

You watch in awe as Somi cums, writhes and wriggles, and she makes these noises that you've never heard from a woman before; crying out so loud you're surprised the neighbours aren't banging down the door to see what the commotion is about.

It's only when she finally relaxes, is released from her orgasm, that you lower the camera, out of breath from the sheer exertion wrought by just watching her.

You're both near devastation-Somi sprawled on the couch, chest rising and falling, eyes closed and an elated smile on her face, and you, knees threatening to give out, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of her satisfaction.

"That was-" Somi tries shaping the words, but they don't come. She just lies there, lazy and sated, catching her breath.

Moments pass before she can open her eyes again, only to find you, standing over her, jeans vanished, cock out and level with her parted lips.

"That was just the beginning, Somi."

It's just the sight of you, but Somi's delighted. Seeing you like this-exposed and so ridiculously hard. All because of her.

She slides off the couch, kneeling at your feet.

"Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. Anything at all. Just make sure you capture it."

"Then suck."

Wet, hot heaven. Somi's mouth is heaven.

Tongue darting forward, swirling around the tip, teeth grazing the head, and you're groaning, hips jerking forward involuntarily until you're falling into her mouth.

Somi's got a way about her, a finesse that's unmatched in everything she does. So, so good for you; opening her mouth nice and wide, hollowing her cheeks just right, pursing her lips to make sure you feel it when she sucks.

Just gleeful when your hand finds purchase in her ponytail, when hers wrap around the base of your cock, and you push. Inch by inch into the sweet heat of her mouth, taking it all, making sure you can see it, see how thankful she is to be granted the privilege of swallowing you whole; of having you completely filling her throat.

Holding herself there, nose pressed up against your stomach, eyes looking up, watering slightly around the edges. Not even gagging, just warming your cock with her throat, pulsing, tight, unbearably hot.

She raises her brows.

Ah, that's right.

Snap.

Pulling off you, dragging her lips, her tongue up your shaft, leaving behind a choked, drooling mess that she's so fucking proud of.

Giggling around a mouthful of your cock, laughter vibrating across your skin, and it's a wonder you don't lose yourself right then and there.

But somehow, you hold on; brace yourself against Somi massaging your balls, tickling the underside of your tip with her tongue. Playing with you, taunting, enjoying every second. Popping your cock out of her mouth so she can truly take measure of you at your achingly hardest, so she can breathe onto your cock in wonder, "Just look at you."

Balancing your length in the palm of her hand, barely able to wrap her fingers around your girth.

"So big, so hard," she's rapt, talking to you, to herself, making sure the ghosts haunting your studio know exactly what she's dealing with her. "And it's all for me, isn't it?"

"Darling," you're calling her, making her swoon, "Take it all."

And she does. Somi, eager, opens her mouth wide, and lets you fuck her face. Getting you deep, so deep that you can feel her throat clench around your tip, slurping, moaning, choking now, but never, ever stopping. Just drooling down your thighs like the good little slut she knows you need her to be.

You're back at it, taking photos, trying to get the perfect angle, but it's proving a big ask when your knees are wobbling and your vision's growing blurry. You've got Somi's eyes in the viewfinder, all wide and blown with lust, looking straight through the lens of the camera and at you, daring you to break first.

But there's still so much more of her to capture, so much more of her face to fuck.

Her red lips against your skin. Her cheeks bulging with your length. The line of her throat as she swallows. The tears in her eyes when she gags.

Somi's arms loop around your back, cupping your ass, pulling you closer, urging you deeper.

Winking, giving you all the right cues; a muffled, "Here," she says with her eyes. "This angle."

And she's right. It's perfect. She's got a talent for this.

Taking you deep, feeling like your cock's never going to be able to leave her throat, only to pull back so you can see just how much she's enjoying herself. How much she's into this, so grateful to have you capturing every moan, every gag, every little sound she makes as you fuck her mouth like it's the first time-and after a whole month it might as well be.

"Fuck, take it, Somi, you're doing so well," you tell her, knowing what it does to her-the praise, the adoration. Absorbed straight into her bloodstream, making her work harder, suck better, choke a little more. "Such a good girl."

She loves it. Her eyes brighten, she squeezes your thighs, nails digging in. She loves it all.

You're getting so close, you can feel it-thirty days of denial are about to come to a head, and she's going to be the one to bring you there. And yet, you still haven't gotten nearly enough pictures to do her justice.

Somi sees it too, she can tell, knows just how close you are, but still, she's just lie you. She wants more.

She pulls back, an idea hatching in that filthy mind of hers, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Wait," she says, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, cleaning herself of her spit, her drool, your leakage. "I want another photo. For comparison's sake. Just for my memories."

You're not sure what she means, but you don't ask questions. You just keep your camera at the ready, watching her move, watching her lean closer.

Your cock hovering just above her cheek, tip bumping up against her nose, leaving a wet streak across her face. She holds herself there, your length atop her face, and it's all in view-her eyes fluttering closed, the tip of her tongue poking out to catch a taste of your precum, the way she's breathing, deep and heavy, smelling the scent of you, inhaling it like it's oxygen.

Somi-her face, her tits, her waist, her thighs.

Your cock.

All in view.

That's the photo.

And when it's done, you're backing off, relearning how to breath, how to stand on your own two feet without crumbling to the ground. Somi's tongue chases you but you're out of reach, setting the camera down on the floor.

You need to get in on this. Fuck silly challenges. Fuck being a passive observer.

You're done just watching. You need to feel her.

Somi looks at you all smug and satisfied, on her knees, awaiting your next instruction. "Finished taking pictures?"

You don't answer.

Instead, you start peeling off your clothes, each layer like a heavy weight of your shoulders; until you're just as bare and needy as she is.

Back to Somi, cradling her face, letting her lean into your palm. Running your thumb across her jaw, dragging it across her lips, stamping it onto her tongue.

She sucks.

Christ.

Thirty days of hell, given up for one moment in heaven.

Fuck it. She'll make it worth it.

You tell her in simple, clear terms. "I'm going to fuck you now, Somi."

"Please."

It's your turn now.

You relax into the couch, legs spread wide, cock throbbing in the open air, beckoning her to come closer.

Somi reads the room, your posture, your need, and she rises to the occasion. Joining you on the couch, back on her knees, thighs gripping on the outside of yours. Hands planted firmly on your shoulders, and the whole time, her eyes don't leave yours, not even for a second.

Appreciate her, this woman, giving herself over to you.

Untying her ponytail, sending honey-brown hair cascading down her face, caressing her neck, her shoulders, meeting the tops of her breasts, perfectly rounded and waiting for the return of your teeth. Her waist, her abs, tensing and releasing, with every hot breath. And her pussy, already there, shimmering, dribbling down your cock, waiting.

Somi's waiting for your permission.

So, taking her by the back of her neck, pulling her close, kissing her hard. Forcing this whine into your throat as your cock bumps up against her folds, sets off fireworks down her spine.

It's a translation. Your need, from your tongue to hers, telling her that it's only her that can do this you. Can rip you from responsibilities, from sanity, from all the shit that's been keeping you going for the last thirty days.

Telling her that it's worth giving it all up for just a taste, because maybe that's the point of the challenge in the first place. Not a matter of self-control but a way to save yourself for something-someone-so potent, so powerful, so fucking irresistible that you just have to surrender to.

You pull apart, breaths hot and ragged, tongues still connected by strands, your hands already at her waist.

"You're going to ride me, Somi. You're going to cum on my cock and I'm going to watch it all."

Somi nods, understanding.

Letting you guide her by the hips, sliding her fingers between her legs to take hold of your cock, aiming it at her entrance.

Lowering herself down, slow, so fucking slow, like it's a brand-new form of torture, until your cock is nestled at the entrance of her heat, and you're both vibrating with the anticipation of it, the gravity of this moment.

You take a harsh breath. "Ready?"

Somi presses her forehead to yours. Teasing, "Are you?"

And then, inch by inch, dragging her cunt down your shaft, making you feel every bit of her wetness, her tightness, every bit of her heat, Somi takes you in.

Pussy tightening around you like a fist, walls pulsing, massaging your cock, like she's already trying to milk you dry. This moan that's torn from her lips, deep and primal, something she's been holding in for far too long, this needy, unholy cry that takes the shape of your name.

And when she's bottomed out, when you've filled her until all she knows is you, Somi looks down in your eyes, nothing but pure, unfiltered lust strewn across her face. "Everything you were hoping for?"

You try, but fail, to form coherent words, just manage a grunt of pleasure, a nod of your head, and she laughs-it's the sweetest, most evil sound you've ever heard. She's got you, hook, line, and sinker.

"Good to know," she says, and that's all she needs to start moving, to set the rhythm that's going to shake the walls, send them crashing to the ground until all that's left is the two of you fucking amongst the rubble.

Her thighs tighten around you, hips start to roll in a way that's just too fucking good, too fucking perfect. The friction is everything, makes the world narrow to just the two of you, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the drenched slick of her pussy, the heavy scent of her filling the air.

"Baby," she repeats, each time her thighs slap down against yours, each thrust all the way up into her guts. "This cock is so perfect for me, so fucking-"

A snap of your hips into her, pulling her down hard, making her tits jump at the force of it, making Somi wail. There's her cunt, spasming around you, tightening, trying to hold you in, trying to keep you there, but you're not letting up.

You take over, holding by the hips and fucking her, like you've been waiting for, like you've been so fucking desperate for, like she needs so badly.

"God, you're really-really fucking pent up, aren't you?" Somi's words are chopped up by the relentless thrusts of your hips, making her stutter, her voice all strained and breathy. Bouncing on you now, letting you set the pace, eyes screwed shut, just giving herself over to you. "I'm so, so lucky. So lucky that it gets to be me that breaks you. That takes you. That gets all this cum you've been saving this whole time."

You're gritting your teeth, unable to do anything but just fuck. Driven mad by it, by every impulse coming right up to the surface.

Everything you've been holding back, it's all here, being unleashed onto Somi.

Fuck her, fill her, make her scream-'Please, please, please'. Those are the only thoughts in your head now. Forget about the job, the photographs, the responsibility-just be yourself, a man on the edge, ready to jump off the fucking cliff.

"Baby," Somi's repeating, as your fingers find purchase in her ass, as she lays kisses on your shoulder, marking you up along your neck and down your jaw. There's other words too-filth, all of it; whining to you about how you're filling her up so good, about how she's so wet for you, about how you're going to make her cum so hard. But it's all just noise to you. Noise that can be summarised in the simplest of requests, right from Somi's lips-"Please, fucking use me."

It's the perfect way to come apart-have someone like Somi, with her heavenly tits in your face, and her greedy, greedy cunt soaking up everything you're willing to give. Begging, wanting, needing to be ruined.

"So fucking tight for me," you're kissing into her chest, finding your voice somewhere between her breasts. Telling her, "Fuck, Somi, your pussy. It's so good for me. So fucking perfectly wet."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Somi sighs back, arms barely hanging on, holding at your neck, unable to do nothing but whimper and bear it. Bear this fucking you're giving her, your cock invading her cunt, making her pussy tighten around it like a vice, making her abs clench, her tits jump, her throat swallow-making her sweat.

It's like she was made for this-cunt made for your cock, body made for your arms. Somi, perfectly designed to be used by you. To moan and whine at your mercy; to be fucked, to be filled, to ruin you and to be ruined all the same.

"I can't, I'm trying but I can't hold on," Somi's teary-eyed, kissing at your face, your neck, her breath hot and sweet against your ear. "Baby, please. I need to feel you. Need more of you."

And you're only too eager to oblige.

Lifting your head, pulling her body closer. Catching her left nipple in your mouth, sucking hard, nipping at the peak until she's gasping, until she's arching her back, pressing her chest closer. Feeling the flesh flush against your lips, hitting your chin with each hard thrust.

Fuck, her tits. You could suffocate between them only to claw your way out of the grave just for another taste.

Her nails dig into your scalp, demanding more-more attention, more adoration, more worship. You give it to her-switching between each of her breasts, suckling and licking, making her whine and buck against your teeth.

"Just like that, you're so good at that, so good with my tits," she moans, short, tiny sighs that send your hips jerking upwards. Fucking her faster, quick, staccato thrusts that hit her just right, make her walls quiver around you. "They're yours, all for you. All of me is yours."

Her orgasm builds; it's palpable, a storm brewing in the studio, sweeping up everything in its path. Each breath she takes is a hitch, a little cry, a whine. So tight around you, fucking her so hard, so deep that you can feel it coming from the inside out.

"Filling me so good, so, so good," she mewls, and there's still some fight in her left, a burst of energy in her thighs, allowing her to grind down harder, drop her ass on you-an up, down, up, down that echoes through the studio with each smack.

"You're going to cum for me Somi," you're telling her, detailing exactly how she'll come completely apart. "You're going to cum all over my cock, you're going to scream for me when you do it, okay? Tell me how good it feels."

"Yes, yes, yes, tell me what you want-anything-I'll do it, I'll be so, so good for you-"

"You're going to beg me for my cum, Somi. Going to beg me to give it to you until you can't take any more," you're growling, your teeth sinking into her tits, your tongue pushing up against her flesh, making her sing.

You're fucking her apart, tearing her in two with your cock. This girl you've only just met, who only just walked into your life; nothing but sex in a pair of high heels, and you're already rearranging the furniture of her soul.

Now she's the one that can't make sense of things, can't form full sentences-just incoherent whines and cries, each one stacking on top of the other, until the foundation's all tilted and it's going to collapse any second now.

Just waiting for you.

Separate from her chest, take a fistful of her hair, pull her back so you can look in her eyes and see. See just how badly you're ruining her, how terribly she's falling apart.

Make sure she can see you, has her attention on nothing but you when you tell her, finally, "Cum. Cum for me, Somi. All over my cock."

She's breaking.

"Now."

"Please, I-" Somi's words live and die on her lips, barely making it out before it hits her, seizes her entirely, forces her cunt to strangle your cock as she shatters.

It's all there, her pussy tightening, pulsing, clenching, releasing in this quake of bliss that feels like a sucker punch straight through your gut.

When she cums it hits her, hits you, waves of heat washing over your cock, splashing down onto your thighs. It's the sensation. So overwhelming, so undeniable, grinding down her orgasm onto you, pleading, over and over and over again, "Don't stop, don't stop, please!"

Writhing in your arms, needing to be held close to stop her from falling off the couch completely. Eyes rolling, head thrown back, exposing her neck, the perfect arc of her throat. Her body jolts, jerks, twitches, and it has you fucking hypnotised.

And all Somi can do is say, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

She keeps going, until each thread is unravelled, until you've fucked loose every last bit of control she's got, until she's nothing but a trembling mess in your arms.

But it's not over, not yet.

You're still hard, so fucking hard. Bursting at the seams. And Somi's looking down at you, pulling herself back together. Seeing your cock, buried inside her. Seeing the mess you've made of her, her own pussy. Seeing everything.

And she's smiling, because she knows what comes next.

"Use me."

You lift her off your cock, so easy to carry; her tiny waist in your hands, she's so light. Still shivering, these tiny, little aftershocks quivering through her, it's like she's clay in your hands, ready to be moulded at your discretion.

Somi gasps when she's laid out on the couch, her legs spread wide, her cunt leaking down her thighs, all cream and cum. She adjusts herself, makes herself comfortable, presentable. Putting herself in the best possible state to be used by you.

"Use me, baby," she repeats again, that sweat plea that's going to be you're undoing. She's so, so needy, practically whining for more, for everything, for anything as long as it involves your cock and her.

You stand over her, cock at the ready, eyes on your next target, the natural stage for the grand finale, the pièce de resistance of this whole fucked up photoshoot-Somi's breasts.

She follows your gaze, realises, "You want to fuck these tits, don't you?"

You find your voice gravelly, deep. "Yeah."

Somi giggles, hands at her chest, taking either side of her breasts, pushing them together with her palms and creating this gorgeous valley, just waiting for your cock. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"For you to beg."

Somi blinks. Once, twice. Sees the look on your face, sees how hard you are for her, how desperate you are to let go.

But she knows how much you need to hear it. Knows how much she wants to say it.

"Please. Baby, please. Fuck my tits. Cum all over me. I need it." Somi's licking her lips, massaging her breasts together, showing you just how soft they are, how ready they are for you. "I need to feel your cum on me. All over me. My face, my neck, my chest. Everywhere. Let me do this for you."

That's it.

You're back on the couch, straddling her stomach. Knees on either side of her waist, cock between her tits. Soft, warm, inviting.

"Like this?"

"Yeah. Just like that," you manage, each word a mountain of effort as you watch your cock disappear between her breasts.

It's a gentle push, that's all it takes, and Somi starts to move, making her tits jiggle around your dick, squeezing it from either side as you slide your cock up and down. So focused, eyes on your cock, then back to your face, studying your every reaction, waiting for that moment when you crack.

And it's coming so soon, you've been teetering on the edge since Somi first walked in-fuck, on edge for thirty days-and now you're hurtling towards the fall.

You're not going to last, not when Somi's got you like this. Her hands moving with you, her tits bouncing in time with your strokes. The cushioning of her breasts around you; this gentle, sweet, torturous pressure that has you grunting, has you smearing drops of yourself all over her chest.

"Fuck, you look so good between my tits. So hard. Doesn't it feel right? Like this is where your cock fucking belongs. This is what my tits were made for. For you," Somi's whispering, stringing these words together like a spell. "You can go faster, baby, I won't break. Just let go and use me like the slut I am."

Pleading for it, so desperate for you. Sweet words, encouragement, filth, like a drug, pushing you close and closer to the brink.

Just obey, pump faster, fuck her tits quicker, watch as your cock slices through her cleavage, the gloss it leaves over her skin. See Somi, licking her lips, devouring you with her eyes, just waiting for you to join her on the other side of oblivion.

"Cum for me, baby. Please, please. I need it-I need to feel it-please!"

Her tongue stretches past her lips, flicking out to catch the tip of your cock, making you groan. Leaning in, breath hot on you, cock hitting her lips with every thrust, every drive through her tits. So fucking greedy, so eager to taste, so needy to be the one responsible for your total ruin.

"Oh, oh, oh, baby-yes-yes-yes-yes-"

She pinches her nipples, twists them just right, moans-

You feel it immediately-your balls tighten, your cock swells, and then-release.

Intense is the only way to describe it.

So fucking intense.

White hot jets of cum spurt out, firing everywhere, making a mess of her, coating her chest, her neck, her chin, her lips, her nose-splashing down all over her.

It's a frenzy, a natural disaster, a hurricane that's been building for one long fucking month, and now it's here.

The way her eyes widen, the way her mouth opens, gasping for air, the way she shakes-she wanted this, but there's no fucking way she was prepared for it.

And when you back up, she dives forward, hand seizing the base of your cock and pumps. Wrists twisting in this aching motion, winding up and down your cock, wringing you out until you're just a slave to her fingers, her tits, her touch.

"Keep going, baby, keep cumming for me, give me everything," she begs, sending shivers all the way from your shaft down to your spine as she works your cock.

You do, you have no choice, no say in the matter. You give her everything.

You're coming apart, torn from your own body in sticky, hot waves that leaves you absolutely breathless.

And she's a fucking mess. All of her-her face, her neck, her tits. So beautiful covered in you. So utterly used. So utterly yours.

It takes a moment for the tremors to stop, for the world to come back into the focus. You sit there, panting, feeling like you've just done a triathlon and then climbed a mountain. Somi's just smiling at you, looking at you through her lashes, glued together with your cum, her own little giggles escaping every now and again.

She looks like a dream.

"Fuck, Somi-"

"Mm?" She looks so content, so at peace with the universe. Wearing your cum like fine jewellery. As if she's the one that just had the best orgasm of her life.

"You're-" But what the fuck do you say? That she's ruined you? That she's shattered your world? That you'll never be able to look at a camera again without thinking of her?

Ah.

That's what you'll do.

You lean down, pick the camera off the floor, and then-snap.

Somi, looking so sloppy and obscene. Looking like everything you never knew you needed. Looking like she belongs to you.

She wipes away at her eyes, collects the cum on her finger, before dipping it into her mouth. Sucking, tasting the flavour of your need.

"Get the shot you wanted?"

You let out a long, heavy exhale, sliding off the couch, off her, sitting on the floor next to her. Resting your head on her thighs while Somi just lies there, sprawled out, utterly wrecked.

"You weren't kidding," she says. "One whole month."

You remember to inhale. "Thirty days."

She's fighting a losing battle, cleaning the endless fountain of cum you've covered her with. Looking like she just streaked through a fucking snowstorm.

But she tries, collects as much as she can, smearing it into a sticky mess. Playing with it on her fingers, rolling it around her tongue, enjoying this way too much.

You raise the camera, aim it at her. The way she's looking at you, the way her hand moves, so fucking casual-like it's her natural state of being. Making you believe that Somi should be covered in cum, all the time. It's only right.

You just can't help yourself. You click.

"I haven't been fucked like that since," Somi starts, clearly not minding being the subject of your post-coital art. "Since ever. That was-"

"A trainwreck," you're saying, and then finishing when you catch the look on her face, "Not like that. It was insane. Intense. Really, thirty days or not, it was fucking life changing."

Somi smiles. "Good to know I didn't disappoint."

"Just. These photos. Completely unsalvageable. None of that can be sent to your agency."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Somi says, so easily, so carefree, as if she didn't just obliterate every single professional boundary you've ever set. "Let me have a look. There must be some photos at the start that are useable. From before you… lost focus."

You pass her the camera, let her scroll through the shots, see all the pornographic filth the two of you have created. She flicks through, each click another photo, another reminder of what you've done, what she's done to you.

And she's enjoying it. These little smirks, the nods of approval. Fascinated by these photos of her, of her body in these stages of ecstasy.

"Ah, yup. No. Nope. Definitely not. Oh, and that one is just… yeah." Somi's voice is light, teasing, but there's a hint of awe in it. "You really don't hold back, do you?"

"It's what you do to me."

"I can see that," she says, continuing until she gets to the last of the photos. "That's pretty fucked. These are pretty fucked up. But, like. Beautifully fucked up."

"Thanks," you say, throwing your hands up, letting one fall on Somi's thigh. It rests there, draws a circle over the smooth warm, skin.

It's a good feeling. Having her here, like this. So relaxed, so comfortable. Knowing her in the most intimate ways possible, yet still not knowing much about her at all.

She sighs when your hand moves higher. You throb.

Yeah. After thirty days, only one time is not going to be nearly enough.

You already want to dive back into the land of debauchery with Somi, bring up more of those repressed fantasies you've been waiting to realise, even though you're still knee-deep in the aftermath of the first round.

It's in Somi's eyes as well, you can feel it in the air, from the heat radiating off her skin-she's not done with you either.

Far from it.

You're going to ruin her again. You're certain of it.

"So," she says, making a show of cupping her tits, raising them up to her mouth. Licking them clean.

Your response is swift. Immediate. "We're going to have to reschedule."

Somi's laughter is pure gold. "How does thirty days from now sound?"

You blink. Stare at her, unamused.

She raises your camera.

Snap!