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elvhensinner · 11 days ago

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Symbiosis (Twice Momo, Le sserafim Kazuha)

23k words —————

The fourth floor of the office building is filled with a palpable amount of energy. A vigor so infectious, it has spread through everyone like the plague.

Yes, every single person in that room can’t wait for what you have to say. You can tell by their face that they’re really, really excited.

Of course, none of that is true: these people can’t wait for you to get your little announcement over and done with so they can get back to work.

“So as previously mentioned, we will be undergoing a corporate restructuring in two weeks time,” you say to your enthusiastic audience of employees, their expressions brimming with dread, despair and defeat. Apathy isn’t enough to mask what they’re feeling. It’s the last thing they want to hear on a Monday morning. The likelihood of losing their jobs in such a volatile economy is not a promising sign of a work week. “I know it’s gonna suck for some of you, but it is what it is—profits over employees. You probably should have expected it when you joined this company. Don’t shoot the messenger; at least I can be transparent about telling you about this because anyone else in my position would probably get lynched.”

What you’re saying is partially true; everyone knows they can’t get their hands on the regional director’s nepo baby—or in this case, you. It’s a job thrust upon you ever since reaching the age of maturity, not something you wanted any part of in the first place. Nevertheless, at your father’s insistence, you’re enlisted as his personal emissary, relaying information from upstairs because he can’t be bothered to hire someone else to do the work. The last time he did, the poor guy was paid millions from health insurance and settlement charges.

‘Cost cutting,’ his voice echoes in your mind, despite the fact that the company is making record profits and is worth billions in net worth. It’s greed speaking, not your actual dad. At this point, the sin has taken over his personality more than the person that raised you lovingly during your childhood.

“That will be all. You may all return to your offices now,” you say, and most of them file out from the employees’ meeting room as quickly as they shuffled in. It’s a cold, thankless job.

However, two people remain, choosing to wait by the exit doors, seemingly waiting for you to meet them. Momo and Kazuha—your two favorite employees in the company. If there’s any pair of employees in your company that deserve to be kicked out the least, then they should be at the top of that list.

—————

“Boss!” their collective voices meet in unison before crescending into a deafening mess, matching you in walking pace as you head towards the elevator. The older Japanese woman deploys her hands underneath your stack of folders and paperwork, catching them effortlessly while you’re still moving. The younger woman, seven years her junior, has your fresh iced coffee in hand, which you promptly take and drink. Together, they yap on about the week’s schedules, business meetings, and other incomprehensible jargon that mixes together to make complete and utter nonsense.

Just the way you like your Mondays.

Joining you inside the executive elevator, usually reserved only for top company brass, they’re given special access as they also happen to be your personal assistants. Mostly relegating all the tiresome work to them while you sit back in your private office and wait for Dad to call you about his next client that you must represent on his behalf.

It’s something you’ll take advantage of—having two subordinates relieving you of all the mundane shit while you take all the credit. You’ll let them bore you to death. Meanwhile, your mind is already thinking about lunch.

By the time you reach the 18th floor, your drink is already finished, so you hand it back to Kazuha for disposal. Retrieving the stack of paperwork you’ve passed onto Momo, you enter your private office to do some actual work.

—————

The mountain of paperwork mocks you from the mahogany desk. You’ve been staring at the same quarterly expenditure report for 43 minutes. The numbers blur into grey sludge. Outside your floor-to-ceiling windows, Seoul pulses with indifferent energy—a stark contrast to the stifling silence of your oversized office.

Your pen taps a frantic, useless rhythm against the leather blotter. Focus. Just sign the damn thing.

Instead, your hand drifts over to your phone, scrolling through meaningless notifications.

Lunch. You need lunch. Anything to escape this gilded cage.

A knock. Sharp, efficient. Momo enters without waiting, her heels clicking a precise staccato on the polished concrete. She deposits a fresh stack of folders—thicker than the one you’re failing to conquer—beside the existing monument to corporate tedium. Her expression is professionally neutral, but you catch the faintest arch of an eyebrow and worried smile as she digests your untouched work.

“The revised contracts from Legal, sir. Require your signature by end-of-day. The Henderson merger timelines are also flagged for your review.” Her voice is smooth, devoid of judgment, yet it feels like an indictment.

“Right. Henderson.” You wave a dismissive hand, the gesture encompassing the entire desk, your inadequacy. “Leave it. I’ll get to it.”

Momo nods once, a silent acknowledgment of the lie. Her gaze flicks to the dying pen in your hand.

“Shall I fetch another pen, sir? Or perhaps refresh your coffee?” Kazuha materializes in the doorway as if summoned, holding a sleek tablet, her eyes already scanning the screen. She’s younger, her energy less contained than Momo’s razor-sharp focus, but no less formidable.

“Coffee,” you grunt, the word tasting like ash. “Strong. Black.”

Kazuha flashes a quick, bright smile that doesn’t quite reach her watchful eyes. “On it, boss.” She vanishes as silently as she appeared. Momo lingers a fraction of a second longer, her presence a quiet pressure, before turning on her heel and exiting, closing the door with a soft, definitive click.

Alone again. The silence amplifies the frantic buzzing in your skull. You pick up the Henderson file. The words swim, scatter like fish in a pond. Asset valuation. Synergy projections. Non-compete clauses. Gibberish.

You drop it back onto the pile, the thud echoing slightly in the cavernous room. You lean back on the absurdly expensive ergonomic chair, staring at the ceiling. The recessed lights offer no inspiration, only a sterile glow.

Lunch. Definitely lunch. Sushi’s a good pick. Maybe that place down the street with the fatty tuna. Your stomach rumbles in agreement.

You reach for the sleek intercom panel to summon them back, to declare an early, extended lunch break: a director’s son’s prerogative. Your finger hovers over the button, ready to pull the trigger. Suddenly, the jarring, insistent chime of an encrypted video line cuts through the lethargy. The laptop screen in your desk flickers to life. No caller ID, but the weight of the ringtone—a low, ominous pulse—tells you everything.

Dad.

A cold knot forms in your gut, replacing the lingering hunger pangs. You haven’t seen his face, truly seen it, outside of heavily filtered corporate headshots in two years. Not since the last mandatory ‘family’ strategy summit in Singapore, where he spent three hours berating the regional VP for a 0.5% dip in market share over dessert.

You smooth your tie, a pointless gesture, and hit ‘accept’.

His face fills the screen. Sharper than you remember. Thinner. The expensive suit hangs a little looser, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper, harder. Like granite eroded by relentless pressure. His hair is still impeccably dark, likely expensive dye, but the eyes—the eyes are the same. Cold, assessing, devoid of the warmth you dimly recall from childhood photos and now vague memories. He sits in what looks like a private jet cabin, all cream leather and polished wood, the window behind him showing nothing but featureless blue sky and clouds beneath.

“Son.” His voice is a dry rasp, devoid of inflection. It’s not a greeting; it’s an acknowledgment of a functional unit. “You look—functional.”

“Father.” You mimic his tone, the corporate chill settling over you like a familiar, uncomfortable coat. “You look—reasonably sane.”

“To what do I owe the interruption?”

“Lunch. My fatty tuna.”

He ignores the barb, if he even registered it. His gaze flicks to something off-screen, then back to you. “Operations report negligible progress on your end regarding the Q3 restructuring plan. Explain.”

No small talk. No ‘how are you.’ Just the bottom line.

You suppress a sigh, leaning forward slightly, projecting an image of engagement you don’t feel. “The announcement was made this morning. Morale impact is being assessed. Departmental audits are underway per your directive. It takes time, Father. We can’t just flip a switch and disintegrate a third of the workforce.”

Profits over employees. The unspoken mantra hangs between you, transmitted via satellite.

He waves a dismissive hand, a gesture eerily similar to your own earlier one, but imbued with genuine power. “Time is a luxury we are rapidly exhausting. Streamline. Accelerate.” His eyes narrow, pinning you to your expensive chair. From a business standpoint, you’re a subordinate—a cog in the unrelenting machine—not his own flesh and blood. “Which brings me to the primary reason for this call. My focus is shifting. Permanently. The Americas division is imploding. I am relocating to New York headquarters immediately. Indefinitely.”

The news hits like a devastating blow, though you should have expected it. Rumors had been swirling for months. Two years without face-to-face contact suddenly stretches into an uncertain, bleak horizon.

“New York?” you manage, your voice tight.

“Effective next month,” he confirms, tone flat, indifferent. “This necessitates a restructuring here as well. I require someone on the ground in Seoul I can rely upon to execute our vision without constant oversight.” He pauses, letting the implication hang. “You are being promoted. Regional Director, East Asia Operations. Full autonomy over the Seoul hub and all satellite offices in the region. Reporting directly to me.”

Regional Director. The title lands with an earth-crushing thud. More responsibility. More expectations. More of the life you never asked for. You feel no elation, only a profound weariness.

“Congratulations are in order, I suppose,” you say, the words ringing hollow. “Though I suspect ‘rely upon’ translates to ‘blame if things go south.’

A flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps—crosses his face. “Sentimentality is inefficient. This is an opportunity. Prove your capability beyond being a—messenger.”

The pause before ‘messenger’ is deliberate, pointed.

“However,” he continues, his voice regaining its steely edge, “this promotion necessitates adjustments within your immediate support structure. You require an Executive Assistant. A single point of contact. Streamlined reporting. One individual capable of handling the increased load and acting as your proxy.”

Your mind instantly conjures images: Momo’s terrifying efficiency. Kazuha’s intuitive anticipation and flexibility. Their combined expertise makes for an irreplaceable pairing that can command armies. There’s no two people better suited for the challenges ahead.

“I have Hirai Momo and Nakamura Kazuha,” you state, a defensive edge creeping in. “They function exceptionally well as a unit. Momo handles logistics, compliance, the hard edges. Kazuha manages communications, scheduling, the human element. They complement each other. Frankly, Father, they’re the only reason this building hasn’t collapsed into utter chaos. They’re both invaluable. Promoting one to Executive Assistant makes sense, but releasing the other—”

You trail off, the corporate euphemism tasting foul. Call it for what it is: firing. “It would be counterproductive. We need both their skill sets.”

He stares at you, his expression impassive, a stone wall against your appeal. “Sentiment. Again, inefficient. Company policy for the Regional Director position mandates one primary EA. Consolidation. Cost efficiency. A single chain of command.” He leans slightly closer to the camera, his face filling the screen, the coldness in his eyes absolute. “Choose one. Promote her. The other—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to. The rest is written in the cold calculus of the restructuring plan you’d announced hours ago. Released. Let go. Part of the necessary reduction.

The silence stretches, thick with the hum of the jet’s engines and the frantic pounding of your own pulse in your ears. The thought of fatty tuna is forgotten, replaced by a cumbersome weight.

“Choose one?” you ask, the words inadequate, stupid.

“Yes.” Dad’s tone is final, conclusive. “You have 72 hours to inform me of your decision. The promotion—and the corresponding personnel adjustment—will be effective concurrently with your own ascension to Regional Director next month. Do not dither.”

The screen goes abruptly dark, leaving you staring at your own pale, stunned reflection in the black glass. Connection severed as cleanly and ruthlessly as a guillotine blade.

The silence in the office is absolute now, oppressive. The mountain of paperwork seems taller, more insurmountable. Regional Director. One promotion. One dismissal.

Momo. Kazuha. Their names echo in the hollow space.

“Choose.”

Dad’s command hangs in the air like smog.

You rake a hand through your hair, staring sightlessly at the door.

Outside the heavy oak door, the air crackles with a different kind of silence. Momo stands rigid, her back pressed against the cool wall beside the door frame. A forgotten printout clenches so tightly in her hand that the paper crumples. Her usually impassive face is a mask of frozen tension, jaw locked, eyes wide and unseeing, fixed on the abstract painting opposite. Every word from the video call, every cold, clipped syllable from the CEO, had filtered through the imperfect seal of the door with chilling clarity. Regional Director. One EA. Choose one. The other released.

A foot away, Kazuha leans against the opposite wall, her tablet hanging limply at her side. The bright, attentive energy is gone, replaced by a stillness that feels unnatural. Her gaze is fixed on the closed door, her expression unreadable, but the faint tremor in her lower lip betrays the seismic shift happening within. The scent of the freshly brewed black coffee in the cup she still holds, now cold, mocks the icy dread settling in her stomach.

‘Promote one. Dismiss the other.’

The unspoken ultimatum hangs between them, thick and suffocating. The corridor, usually a space of efficient movement, feels like a precipice. Neither woman looks at the other. The only sound is the frantic, silent hammering of two hearts realizing the game has now become a fight for survival.

—————

Regardless of the circumstance, Momo and Kazuha remain professional as ever. As soon as they discern the creak of the office door swing open, their postures straighten up mechanically to greet you. Smiles perfectly aligned. No sign of weakness or vulnerability. A perfect unit. “Boss.”

Despite the heaviness of your new role weighing you down, you reciprocate their warmth. “Hey.”

You can tell something feels off, but not pinpoint what is wrong exactly. Maybe it’s the space between them both, a seeming abyss right in the middle. The tinge of their voices cracking ever so slightly. It could be the uncontrollable twitch in their eyebrows, assessing the situation and your body language in real time. Perhaps it’s hunger playing games with your head.

“Early lunch as usual, boss?” asks Momo, having registered this time of day as part of the daily schedule. “You’re five minutes late than usual.”

“Yeah,” is your reply, tone fighting its hardest not to falter. “Dad called. Said I’d be regional director of the East Asian branch moving forward.”

“Congratulations.” Both women cheer and applaud in unison, but it’s a somber celebration. A triumphant moment in any other scenario, but not today.

“You’re the ones who deserve it, honestly,” you admit through a faint smile, taking a shallow breath. If you three were in a group, Momo and Kazuha would have carried everything—research, formatting, and visualization—while you made the first slide of the Powerpoint, slapped everyone’s names on and presented it through their script. “You’ve done an admirable job handling all the tasks I’ve given you. If it were up to me, you’d both be running this place.”

“Thank you boss, but we owe you our success by believing in us, sir,” replies Kazuha, gently bowing her head in appreciation.

“Agreed. If you didn’t take us, we don’t know if we would be working right now,” Momo adds, slightly looking to the side of her colleague. “You’re as important in this office as anyone else, if not more—you’ve also been handling employee scouting and training, no?”

Hearing their encouraging words almost breaks you. What should have been a warm, endearing moment feels heavier and bittersweet knowing that this inseparable pairing will be forced to break up. And you don’t have the heart to tell either of them.

You can only smile and lower your head, hiding the tears close to falling.

The pair immediately catch on, rushing toward you, handkerchiefs in hand like a magic trick. “Something wrong, boss?” They ask concurrently.

Lifting your head slightly, concealing your eyes from their view, because there’s no way you can contain your emotion with how burdened your heart is. Your throat can’t even bother to try. It rings of deflation and defeat, something unfitting for a newly appointed director. “Fine. It’s all fine, I’m just—a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Talk us through the situation, sir,” encourages Momo, her tone soft, lovely. “Rest assured, you can count on us to help you.”

Kazuha nods in agreement, her inflection equally as welcoming. “Tell us everything, sir.”

You pause. A deep, heavy sigh, thickens the air in the room like blinding fog. One thing is clear: you’re not in the right headspace, at least right now.

“How about you go and have lunch first?” you tell them, face still somewhat concealed, your voice shrinking by the word. Knowing them, they likely have seen through the mask, but are gracious not to press on the matter. “I will speak to both of you when I’m ready.”

“Of course.” Momo straightens herself, pulling back her handkerchief and making her hurried, yet efficient leave. “Please enjoy your lunch, director.”

“Do try and take care of yourself,” adds Kazuha, joining her senior inside the elevator before they disappear behind the closing panel.

—————

Effective immediately, you had all scheduled meetings and appointments canceled for the rest of the day.

It never sat right with you. Despite your status, Dad never really saw you as his kid. Only a subordinate, an expendable asset. A messenger, as he called you. Looking at the framed photo of you as a child, carried on his shoulders, he almost feels like a completely different person. Now, he’s less of a human and more a corporate entity taking the form of a mortal shell.

Unsurprisingly, you hardly got anything done; Momo and Kazuha once again backpacked the workload, with your only meaningful contribution being a handful of signatures on the dotted line. By day’s end, you had everyone vacate the building right away except for them; not a single overtime was to be performed, and no one except security were to stay for the night. It’s a ploy to keep this matter between you three, despite your office nestled high up in the tower, away from all your employees.

The silence in your office isn’t just quiet. It’s loaded. Like the air before a detonation. Momo sits ramrod straight in the plush guest chair, hands folded neatly on her lap, her knuckles pale. Kazuha perches on the edge of the other, one leg crossed over the other, ankle bouncing with a nervous energy she’s failing to hide. Their eyes track you as you move from the window back to your desk, a silent, expectant audience. The city lights below feel accusatory now, witnesses to the execution you’re about to perform.

You don’t sit. Leaning against the mahogany monstrosity, the edge digs into your hip. The weight of the day, of your father’s words, of the leaden secret, presses down. You can’t meet their eyes just yet. You stare at the abstract painting behind them—splashes of angry red and cold blue—searching for an answer it doesn’t hold.

"Right," you start, the word scraping out. Your voice sounds alien, strained. You’ve hardly spoken since lunch break, yet the weariness never disappeared, only worsened. "You wanted to talk. About—earlier."

Momo inclines her head. A precise, professional movement. "We sensed you were troubled, Director."

Director. The title falls like a stone. It tastes foul.

Kazuha nods, her usual bright smile replaced by a look of focused concern that doesn’t quite reach the watchfulness in her eyes.

Dad’s words cloud your head. Choose one. Release the other. Corporate euphemisms for sacrifice.

You push off the desk, pacing a short, tight line. The carpet muffles your steps, but the frantic thudding in your chest feels deafening. "My father—the call. It wasn't just about the promotion." Quickly turning, you face the window again, the sprawling cityscape a blur. "There’s—” you draw out the last letter, unable to follow through. “a condition."

Silence. Thick, heavy. You can feel their attention sharpen, pricking against your skin.

"He insists," you force out, the follow through thick and clumsy, "on ‘streamlining.’ Company policy for the Regional Director role. One Executive Assistant. Only one."

You turn, finally meeting their gazes. Momo’s expression is frozen porcelain. Kazuha’s bouncing leg has stilled. "He told me—” your throat is shriveling at the thought again. “I have to choose. One of you gets the promotion. The EA position. The other—" You can’t say it. You gesture vaguely, helplessly, towards the door, towards the elevator, towards the cold reality outside this gilded cage. "Released. As part of the restructuring."

The command hangs in the sterile air, ugly and final. The hum of the building’s HVAC is suddenly loud.

Kazuha is the first to break the paralysis. "Choose?" Her voice is higher than usual, a brittle edge peeking from it. "But—that’s absurd! Sir, we function as a unit. Momo-san’s precision, my adaptability," she gestures between them, a frantic little motion. "It’s synergistic. Removing one cripples the entire function! Surely the CEO understands that! We could—we could draft a proposal. Outline the tangible losses in efficiency. Present a cost-benefit analysis against this policy?"

Her words tumble out, rapid-fire, a desperate bid for logic against the irrational axe of your father’s decree.

You shake your head, the movement heavy. "I tried, Kazuha." The memory of your father’s granite face, his cold dismissal, floods back. "Believe me: I fucking tried.” You parrot his words, each sentence sounding more repulsive in your mouth than the last. ‘Sentiment is inefficient.’ ‘Company policy mandates a single chain of command.’ ‘Consolidation. Cost efficiency.’”

"He wasn’t interested in proposals. Or logic. Or—people." The last word is a whisper, laced with a venom usually reserved for quarterly tax audits. Some of his trademark coldness has bounced off you. "The decision is mine. And he wants it in 72 hours."

Momo hasn’t moved once. Her gaze is fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder, her neutral expression a veil of unnerving calm. Only the slight, almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw betrays the brewing storm underneath. When she speaks, her tone is low, controlled, but removed of its usual smoothness. "We—we understand the position this puts you in, Director."

Kazuha whips her attention towards Momo, disbelief clashing with dawning comprehension on her face. "Momo-san?"

Momo shifts her face, meeting Kazuha’s, then yours. There’s no warmth there, only a chilling, pragmatic acceptance. "We overheard, Director." The admission is flat, matter-of-fact. "The door—it didn’t seal perfectly. We heard everything."

Breath leaves your lungs in a rush. Of course they did. The uncomfortable energy, the slight cracks in their professionalism earlier—it was more than concern for you. It was the shockwave hitting them directly. They’ve been sitting here, carrying this knowledge, this burden, while you floundered. Humiliation burns, hot and sharp, mixing with newly crushing guilt.

You feel exposed. Stripped bare.

Kazuha flushes, looking down at her hands clenched in her lap. "We didn’t mean to eavesdrop," she murmurs, the defiance gone, replaced by something vulnerable. "We were waiting, and then—we heard."

Momo continues, regaining a fraction of steel, though it’s aimed inward now. "The CEO’s directive is clear. The policy is—immovable. Arguing further is—" she pauses, searching for the corporate synonym for futile. "counterproductive. We accept the parameters." She lifts her chin slightly. "Whichever decision you make, Director, we will respect it. We understand the necessity."

Necessity. The word feels hollow. Like your father’s soul.

Kazuha takes a shaky breath, lifting her head. Her eyes are bright, but not with tears. With a fierce, sudden determination that surprises you. "Respect it, yes," she echoes, her voice firmer now. "But—" A flicker of her old, spirited spark ignites. She glances sideways at Momo, a look that’s part challenge, part grim acknowledgement. "We won't make it easy for you. Or for each other." Meeting your eyes squarely, she continues. "You said choose the best, Director? Well, you’re about to see exactly what ‘best’ looks like. From both of us." A tight, almost predatory smile touches her lips. "Consider the next 72 hours an extended performance review. We will outperform. We will exceed. We will leave absolutely no doubt in your mind about who deserves that position."

Momo doesn’t smile. But a slow, deliberate blink, a subtle straightening of her spine, speaks volumes. The subdued intensity radiating from her sharpens, focusing like a laser. She gives a single, curt nod. "Agreed. The parameters are set. The outcome will be determined by merit. Demonstrated merit."

Her stare locks onto yours, intensity unwavering. "We will ensure you have all the data you require to make your difficult decision."

A strange surge of pride cuts through the morass of guilt and dread. Resilient. Professional. Even when facing the abyss, they revert to their core competencies. Momo’s ruthless pragmatism. Kazuha’s fierce, adaptive drive. They’re not collapsing; they’re gearing up for war. A war where you hold the singular vote. The thought is terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. The air crackles with the unspoken challenge, the desperate energy, the sheer, terrifying resolve emanating from both women.

The heaviness of the day, the crushing weight of your father’s ultimatum—none of it has vanished. It’s still there, a dull anchor in your gut. But layered over it now is this new, electric tension. The quiet office feels like a calm battlefield moments before the charge forward.

"You're both—" You trail off, shaking your head. A faint, incredulous smile touches your lips despite everything. "Unbelievable." It holds exhaustion, awe, and a dawning sense of being utterly outmaneuvered. There are countless ways to describe Momo and Kazuha, but this one word aptly describes them quite perfectly.

"Fine. Understood. The clock starts now." You glance at the sleek, minimalist clock on your desk. 6:47 PM. "Consider yourselves officially—under review."

The silence returns, but it feels different now. Not teeming with unease, but taut with anticipation.

Momo stands first, smooth and precise as always. "Then we should not waste time, Director. We have preparations to make." Her tone is clipped, systematic. Already shifting into mission mode.

Kazuha rises too, her earlier stillness replaced by a coiled energy. "Absolutely. Early start tomorrow, Director? Critical path analysis for the Henderson merger needs your eyes. Bright and early." Her smile is back, sharp and challenging.

You wave a hand, fatigue crashing down on you again, but in a different way. The emotional whiplash is brutal. "Go. Both of you. Get out of here. I'll see you in the morning."

Bright and early. The phrase feels like a threat.

They move towards the door, a united front for a fleeting second. Momo pauses, her hand on the polished handle. She doesn't look back. "Try to get some rest, Director. You will need it."

The words aren't gentle; they're a warning.

Kazuha flashes one last, brilliant, utterly terrifying smile over her shoulder. "Sweet dreams, boss. Dream of—efficiency charts."

Then they're gone, the heavy oak door clicking shut with a sound that echoes like a pistol in the sudden, vast silence.

You sink into your obscenely expensive chair, the leather sighing. The mountain of untouched paperwork taunts you. The Henderson file glares, an insurmountable predicament in its own right. Outside, Seoul’s indifferent lights pulse. Once again, you recall the day’s agendas. Regional Director. One promotion. One dismissal.

Dad’s voice rings in your head, haunting you persistently like a ghost. ‘Choose.’

But the faces swimming in your mind aren’t faceless employees on a restructuring list anymore. They’re Momo’s icy, determined gaze. Kazuha’s fierce, challenging smile. The quiet, terrifying promise in their professional acceptance.

You have less than three days left. And you have absolutely no idea what hell those two incredibly capable, fiercely competitive women are about to unleash in their fight for survival. You rake your hands over your face. Lunch is a forgotten luxury. Rest is an afterthought.

The game, as Kazuha so pointedly implied, has radically, irrevocably changed.

—————

The executive elevator doors slide open at barely past seven in the morning. Bright and early. Kazuha’s words echo as a threat manifested into existence. Floor 18 buzzes with an unnatural vigor. You step out the sterile box, bracing yourself.

They’re already there. Waiting.

Momo stands ramrod straight beside your office door, tablet held like a shield against her crisp white blouse. Her posture screams military precision, but you notice the subtle differences: hair pulled tighter, makeup sharper, the faintest hint of expensive perfume cutting through the antiseptic office smell. Her gaze snaps to you—analytical, assessing—before she offers a curt, perfect bow. “Director. Your schedule has been optimized and pre-loaded. The Henderson critical path analysis is prioritized.”

Before you can respond, Kazuha materializes from the small adjacent kitchenette, holding two steaming mugs. Her usual vibrant energy feels amplified, channeled into a stream of hyper-efficiency. She’s swapped her typical smart dress for a sharply tailored pantsuit, her smile brighter, more focused. “Morning, boss! Double espresso, freshly brewed. And I took the liberty of cross-referencing the merger timelines with Legal’s redlines—found three potential conflict points you’ll want to flag.”

She hands you the coffee, her fingers brushing yours for a fraction longer than necessary. The contact sends a jolt through you, instantly at odds with the caffeine. Her eyes hold a challenge, a silent ‘Watch this.’

The pair moves in sync, a terrifyingly efficient ballet. Momo opens your office door right as you reach for it. Kazuha deposits a meticulously organized folder on your desk: tabs color-coded, summaries bullet-pointed. Yesterday’s heap of neglected paperwork is gone, replaced by this single, streamlined dossier. The Henderson file sits on top, with a post-it note glued on etched in Momo’s precise handwriting, something about Sector 4.2b.

“We’ve pre-screened all non-urgent communications,” states Momo, her voice clipped. “Only three items require your direct attention before 10 AM. Kazuha has drafted preliminary responses for your approval.”

“And I’ve prepped a stakeholder analysis for the restructuring impact assessment,” Kazuha adds, leaning slightly against your desk. Her posture is confident, almost possessive of the space. “Prioritized by department sensitivity and potential resistance.” She flashes another brilliant smile. “We aim to eliminate doubt, Director.”

They aren’t just working; they’re waging war.

You take a scalding sip of espresso, the bitterness grounding you. The plan you’d hatched in the sleepless void of the night—unethical, desperate, stupid—suddenly feels like the only move left.

“Kazuha,” you say, your voice thankfully steady. You gesture towards the folder. “This cross-referencing with Legal. I need it contextualized against the operational realities on the ground. Floor 12—Procurement. Go down, talk to Manager Miyawaki. Get her raw, unfiltered take on the vendor transition clauses. Don’t come back without concrete pain points.”

Kazuha’s gleam doesn’t falter, but her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. Floor 12 was notoriously slow, tangled in bureaucracy. Sending her there was busywork, a deliberate delay. “Manager Miyawaki?” she repeats, light but probing. “Her insights are usually retrospective, Director. Wouldn’t real-time data from Logistics on Floor 9 be more actionable?”

“Her perspective on vendor relationships is crucial,” is your counter, rhythmically tapping the folder. “We need the ground truth before Legal airlocks us into something unworkable. Consider it primary source verification. Now.” The command is firmer than intended.

A beat of silence. Momo watches Kazuha, her expression now unreadable. Kazuha’s gaze flicks between you and the folder, her spark momentarily replaced by calculation. Then, the brilliant smile snaps back into place, sharper than before. “Ground truth. Understood, Director. I’ll extract it.”

She grabs her tablet, spins on her heel, and strides towards the elevator, her posture brimming with determined energy. The doors swallow her whole.

The sudden silence in the wake of her departure feels immense. Momo remains statuesque beside your desk, her attention entirely aimed at you. The absence of Kazuha’s vibrant presence makes Momo’s intensity feel denser, more—concentrated.

“Sir?” Momo prompts, “Shall I brief you on the flagged schedule items?”

“Not yet.” You walk around your desk, not sitting, leaning against it instead, mirroring Kazuha’s earlier pose minus her ease. The mahogany surface feels cold through your shirt. “Close the door, Momo.”

A fractional hesitation. Her dark eyes meet yours, searching. Then, a single, precise nod. She moves silently, the heavy oak door clicking shut with absolute certainty. The HVAC’s hum grows louder in the enclosed space. She returns to stand before you, hands clasped loosely in front of her, the perfect picture of polished readiness. But the atmosphere has shifted. The corporate armor feels thinner.

“Sit,” you direct, gesturing your hand to the guest chair.

She obeys, sitting with her usual ramrod posture, her back not touching the chair. Her stare is level, expectant, but the undercurrent is different now. Watchful. Aware.

You take another sip of Kazuha’s coffee, stalling. The plan feels flimsier by the second. “Given the—unique circumstances,” you begin, the words struggling to hold gravity, “and the weight of the decision ahead, I need more than just performance metrics, Momo. I need to understand potential. Fit. For the EA role specifically,” You force yourself to hold her gaze. “Consider this a—personal interview. Supplementing the professional review.”

Momo’s expression doesn’t flicker. “Understood, Director. What would you like to know?” Her inflection is neutral, but there’s a new layer beneath it: a quiet alertness, like a hunter sensing a shift in the wind.

You start with safe territory, the script rehearsed in your insomniac haze. “Your long-term vision for the EA position. How would you handle the increased autonomy? Conflict resolution strategies when reporting directly to—” You almost say ‘my father’, but stop yourself. “—to remote, high-pressure leadership.”

Her answers are flawless. Concise, strategic, demonstrating deep understanding of the role’s demands and the company’s brutal politics. She speaks of buffer zones, information filtration, anticipatory action. It’s impressive, coldly efficient, and utterly predictable. Exactly what the company—what your father—would want. Yet, it feels sterile. Incomplete.

She watches you intently, waiting for the next question. Her blouse, you finally catch on, is cut slightly lower than usual. A single button undone at the top, revealing the barest hint of collarbone. The fabric strains subtly across her chest with each breath. It’s demanding that you take notice.

“And what about you, Director?” Momo suddenly asks, her voice dropping a fraction, losing its boardroom edge. It’s softer, yet somehow more dangerous. She leans forward infinitesimally in the chair. “What do you need? From your Executive Assistant?” Her glare is unwavering, intense. “Beyond the spreadsheets and the schedules. Beyond the—policy.”

The question throws you off. It’s an inversion. Your throat feels tight. The carefully constructed script in your head crumbles.

“I—need reliability,” you manage, the corporate answer reflexively bubbling. “Foresight. Discretion.”

Momo’s lips curve ever so slightly. Not a smile. A ghost of something knowing. “Discretion,” she repeats, the word a velvet murmur. “Yes. That’s paramount.” Her eyes drift down, then back up to yours, holding you with unnerving directness. “But reliability can be learned. Foresight honed. Discretion,” she pauses, letting the word hang. “—is inherent. Or it isn’t.” She tilts her head, a fraction. “What do you see in me, Director? That makes you consider me for such an intimate responsibility?”

Intimate. The word lands like a sharp uppercut in the otherwise quiet office. Your pulse hammers. The air conditioning whirs, suddenly ineffective against the heat flooding your face. Her gaze is relentless, slowly stripping away the professional veneer. She knows. She must learn why Kazuha was sent away. This isn’t about the job anymore. This is the game laid bare.

“I see.” You falter, the words sliding off with nothing to lean on. Your carefully constructed detachment shatters. “Competence. Strength. Control.” The last word comes out hoarse.

“Control,” Momo echoes softly, teetering on seduction. She uncrosses her legs, then recrosses them slowly, the whisper of nylon loud in the unnerving quiet. Her eyes never depart yours. “Control is essential. Especially when managing—unpredictable variables.” A deliberate pause, to let the words simmer. “Like ambition. Or—desire.”

The heat intensifies, pooling low in your stomach. Your carefully maintained distance feels like a ruse. She’s dismantling it with terrifying precision. You’re rendered frozen, pinned by her and the terrifying implication of her words.

Then, she moves.

Not abruptly, but with deliberate, unhurried grace. She rises from the chair, smooth as silk. Two steps bring her directly in front of you, where you lean against the desk. The subtle scent of her perfume—expensive, floral, with an underlying edge of spice—envelops you. Up close, the strain of her blouse across her chest is undeniable. The open button reveals a thin necklace resting against smooth skin.

“You look tense, Director,” she murmurs, a low vibration that resonates in your bones. Her eyes drop pointedly to your hands, clenched white-knuckled on the desk’s edge. “The burden of choice is heavy.”

Before you can formulate a response, her hand lifts. Not towards your shoulder, not for a reassuring pat. Her fingertips brush against the back of your clenched hand on the desk. The touch is feather-light, yet electric. It jolts through your nerves.

“Perhaps,” she continues, dropping even lower, becoming almost hypnotic, “you’re overcomplicating it.” Her other hand rises, hovering near your waist. Her eyes lock onto yours, dark pools reflecting office lights and something else entirely—a challenge, an invitation, a terrifying promise. “Sometimes, the most efficient solution—” she stops, deliberately twirling a loop of her own hair. “—is to follow instinct. To let go of unnecessary control.”

Her hovering hand descends, slow and deliberate. Not to your arm nor to your shoulder. Her palm rests flat, possessively, high on your thigh, just below the hip. The heat of her touch sears through your trousers. Her thumb moves in a slow, infinitesimal circle. Your breath hitches, trapped in your throat. All thought of corporate policy, of your father, of the impossible choice, evaporates in the white-hot shock of her touch and the seductive danger in her eyes.

She leans in fractionally, her lips perilously close to your ear. Her breath ghosts warm against your skin. “What does your instinct tell you right now?”

Right there, the dam breaks. Carefully constructed walls of professionalism, guilt, and fear—obliterated by a surge of raw, reckless desire. The scent of her, the heat of her hand, the blatant challenge in her eyes. It’s overwhelming.

The interview is over. In your heart, you know the result. You’re failing.

With a choked sound that’s half groan, half surrender, you move. One hand snaps up, tangling in the sleek dark hair at the nape of her neck. The other clutches her waist, pulling her hard against you. No finesse, only ravenous hunger.

Your mouth crashes down onto hers.

It’s not a kiss; it’s a claiming. Hard, demanding, fueled by weeks of bubbling tension, days of unrelenting dread, and the terrifying power she’s just wielded over you. Momo doesn’t resist. She meets you. Her lips part instantly, yielding, and then fighting back with equal ferocity. Her hand on your thigh slides higher, fingers digging in possessively. A muffled sound escapes her—not protest, but fierce satisfaction. Her other hand fists in the fabric of your shirt at your back, drawing you impossibly closer.

The controlled precision she embodies shatters in the kiss. It’s all heat and lust and a fierce, competitive edge that mirrors the professional battle raging outside this room. Her body pressed flush against yours is a revelation: strong, relenting, demanding. The softness of her breasts against your chest, the frantic beat of her heart echoing yours, the way her hips tilt instinctively into yours—

The Henderson file is crushed between you. The sleek clock on the desk blinks 7:41 AM. Kazuha is six floors down. Your father’s 72-hour deadline ticks relentlessly. Nothing registers. There’s only the searing warmth of Momo’s mouth, the pressure of her body, and the exhilarating plunge into the abyss you’ve both taken. Control disintegrates. Instinct reigns supreme.

It feels awfully like losing. Or maybe—just maybe—like the only victory possible in this gilded cage.

The kiss isn't an end. It's a detonation. A seismic shift in the carefully fabricated lines of your professional relationship. Momo doesn't melt; she unravels. The moment your mouth claims hers, the calculated control that defines her shatters like safety glass.

A sharp, high gasp escapes her, swallowed instantly by your mouth. Her hands, precise instruments of corporate warfare moments ago, become frantic things: one fisting in the hair at your nape with nigh-painful intensity, the other clawing at the fabric of your shirt, dragging you impossibly closer—as if trying to merge your bodies through sheer force.

Her lips are softer than you imagined, yielding then fighting back with a ferocity that matches her professional drive. It’s a battle, a desperate, messy clash of passion. Shared, ragged breaths fog the cool office air. The Henderson file crunches, forgotten beneath your combined weight against the desk.

You break for air, your foreheads pressed together, breathing frantically like marathon finishers. When you force your eyes open, hers are wide, dark, dilated. The icy pragmatist is gone. In her place is something raw, exposed, needy. A flush paints her cheeks and spills down her neck, disappearing beneath the collar of her scandalously unbuttoned blouse. Her chest heaves against yours.

"Director," she sighs, the title both a plea and a blasphemy. Her voice is wrecked, thick with something you’ve never heard from Hirai Momo: pure, unadulterated want.

The corporate cage, your father’s ultimatum, the ticking clock–they evaporate in the white-hot furnace of this moment. There’s only Momo, falling apart before you, and a desperate need to unravel her completely.

Your hands, still tangled in her hair, slide down. One palms the curve of her jaw, thumb tracing the frantic pulse beating in her throat. The other drifts lower, skimming the column of her neck, brushing the smooth skin exposed by that single undone button. Her breath hitches; her eyelids flutter.

"Too many layers, Momo," you murmur, your own inflection rough, alien. The corporate veneer sounds putrid in your mouth. You’re operating on pure instinct now. Your fingers find the next button of her now wrinkled white blouse. "This—this isn't efficient."

Her eyes lock onto yours, dark and fathomless. There’s no protest, no coy deflection. Only a silent, breathless fervor.

Releasing your shirt, her hand covers yours, not impeding, but guiding you. Together, you pop the buttons open. One after another. Each tiny snick freeing itself sounds deafening in the heavy silence. The fabric parts, revealing a tantalizing sliver of smooth, pale skin, the swell of her tits constrained by flattering, expensive lace.

Her breathing grows shallower, faster. Her fingers tighten over yours on the last button, right above the waistband of her skirt. You pause, your thumb brushing the warm skin just above the lace.

"Momo?" Her name hangs in the air, loaded. It’s seeking permission. Acknowledgment. A final check before the plunge.

The answer is a low whimper, almost lost in the thrum of the climate control. Dipping her head forward, her temple pressing harder against yours. Her hand slides away from yours, falling limply to her side.

It’s surrender. Explicit. Utter.

"Please." Her voice cracks, ragged and torn from her throat.

That single word unglues you. Your fingers finish the job, freeing the last button, promptly sliding the blouse off her shoulders. It catches momentarily on her elbows before she shrugs, a small, helpless motion, letting it slither down her arms to pool on the expensive carpet at her feet.

Momo stands before you now in her skirt, heels, and the demure lace bra that suddenly seems impossibly provocative against her exposed skin. Her shoulders are tense, her arms held slightly away from her body, as if unsure what to do with them. The flush has deepened, spreading across her chest. She’s breathtaking. Powerful efficiency stripped bare to trembling vulnerability.

"Look at you," you breathe, thick with awe and a possessiveness that shocks you. Your hands settle on her waist, thumbs stroking the smooth skin just above the waistband of her skirt. She shivers violently under your touch. "All that control—gone."

She doesn't deny it. Her eyes squeeze shut for a second, feeling a tremor running through her. When she opens them, the defiance is gone, superseded by a treacherous admission. "I—I didn't know—" she stammers, small and frail. "I didn't know it could feel like this. Just—touching. Just you—looking."

Her genuine honesty disarms you further. This isn't a calculated act of seduction anymore. This is Momo, fully stripped of her armor, exposed and seeking. The power dynamic has flipped. You’re both adrift in uncharted territory.

Naturally, your gaze drops to her breasts. Beautifully shaped, only constrained by lace cups. The fabric strains slightly with her quick breaths, the peaks visibly hardened beneath. Your thumbs move upwards, tracing the lower curves, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She gasps, her back arching slightly, pushing her chest instinctively towards your hands.

"Beautiful," you murmur, the word escaping without thought, as you take lease of her divine figure. "Fit. Perfect."

Your praise seems to affect her more than your touch. A soft moan escapes her lips, her head lolling back slightly, exposing the long line of her throat. The submissive posture, so peculiar on her, is devastatingly erotic.

Your hands slide up, cupping the full weight of her tits through the bra. They fill your palms perfectly, warm and heavy. Squeezing gently, experimentally. She cries out a sharp, choked sound. Her hands fly up, not to push you away, but to clutch at your forearms, her nails digging in slightly through your sleeves.

"Director—please—"

"Please what, Momo?" You lean in, brushing the shell of her ear, feeling her quiver against you. "Use your words. Tell me what you need."

It’s a command, gentle but firm, echoing her own earlier demand for instinct.

She whimpers, her hips making a small, involuntary rocking motion against nothing. "The bra. Please. Take it off. I want—I want you to see. To touch me—properly."

The desperation—the unfiltered need—sets off a signal in your head. Never in your life you think her icy demure would dissolve like mush in your grasp.

Your fingers find the clasp at the back, a simple hook-and-eye. With a practiced flick you didn't know you possessed, it releases. The bra loosens. Sliding the straps down her arms slowly, deliberately, letting the lace peel away from her skin, inch by agonizing inch, before it joins the blouse on the floor.

Momo stands before you, bare from the waist up. The flush spreads down her chest. She makes no move to cover herself. Her eyes are locked on yours, wide and dark, completely in surrender.

"God, Momo—" A deep, held breath escapes your lungs. Your hands rise, hovering for a heartbeat before settling on her warm, silken skin. Your thumbs sweep over her stiff nubs, eliciting another sharp cry from her. "So perfect. Made for this."

You lean down, your mouth replacing your digit on one taut nipple. The sensation is electric.

She cries out, a sound ripped from deep within her, her body bowing against you. Her hands fist in your hair, holding you to her, not pushing away. You suckle gently, then with increasing pressure, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tit. Her hips grind against your thigh, seeking friction, her breath coming in wanton, broken gasps.

You lavish attention on one breast, then the other, alternating between sucking and licking, making her jerk and whine. Her skin feels like hot velvet under your lips and tongue. The taste is intoxicating.

"Yes—oh God—yes—like that—please—more—so good—”

She’s babbling now, soft, broken phrases lost between moans. Her usual eloquence shattered, replaced by the primal language of need. Tugging her fingers erratically at your belt buckle, her movements strangely uncoordinated. "Need you—need to feel you—all of you—"

Her urgency ignites yours. Straightening yourself, you pull her into another searing kiss, swallowing her whimpers. Regretfully, your hands leave her breasts, sliding down her sides, over the curve of her hips, gripping the hem of her tailored skirt. Hiking it up, bunching the fabric around her waist, exposing her long, toned legs encased in sheer black stockings fastened to a garter belt, and simple matching lace panties, already damp, clinging to her.

A choked groan escapes you. Your hand slides down, palming the heat radiating through the thin lace. She’s alarmingly soaked. Pressing your fingers firmly against her core, she cries out into your mouth, her legs buckling. Only your grip on her hip and the edge of the desk keep her upright. You rub her sensitive entrance through the lace, feeling the aching wetness.

"Please," she gasps, tearing her mouth from yours, her head thrown back. "I need—inside—now."

Her demand shatters the last of your restraint. You fumble with your own belt, button, and zipper, fingers suddenly going clumsy. Your own need is a pounding drumbeat in your veins, a painful throb demanding release. You shove your trousers and boxers down just enough to free your aching cock, thick and straining.

Gripping her hips, you turn her slightly, pressing her back against the solid mahogany desk. Henderson’s merger vulnerabilities scatter to the floor, completely disregarded. You hook your fingers into the sides of her damp panties.

"Lift," you command, your voice rough.

Momo obeys instantly, raising one leg, then the other, letting you drag the lace down her thighs, over her stockings, eventually falling around her ankles. She kicks them off impatiently. Her hands scramble behind her, glued against the desk surface. Her eyes fixate on your face, glazed with lust as she spreads her legs wide, offering herself.

Her core glistens, slick and swollen, inviting. The sight of her—bare, flushed, wanton—against the cold corporate backdrop of your desk, is the most pornographic thing you’ve ever seen.

Stepping between her spread thighs, you brush your cockhead against her soaked entrance. She gasps, jerking her hips forward mechanically, trying to impale herself.

"Look at me," you growl, holding her hips steady. Her darkened eyes snap to yours, wide and desperate. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it," she gasps without hesitation, spurred by wanton need. "Please—I need you inside me—now—"

The vulgarity coming from Hirai Momo herself is the final detonator.

With a groan that’s part relief, part triumph, you grip your cock, guide it to her slick core, and push forward in one smooth, relentless thrust.

She screams.

It’s not a cry of pain, but of pure, overwhelming ecstasy. Her head slams back against the edge of your desk monitor, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Her inner walls clamp down on you instantly, impossibly tight, hot, and silken. The feeling is so intense, so perfect, your vision whites out for a second. You freeze, buried to the hilt, savoring the exquisite pressure and primeval connection.

"Oh fuck—Momo—" you gasp, leaning over her, bracing your hands on the desk on both sides of her hips. "So fucking tight—so perfect—perfect for me—"

She’s panting, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a quiet scream. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, tracking through her perfectly applied makeup. Her hips rock minutely, trying to take you deeper.

"Move—" she begs, her voice a shattered whisper. "Please—move—please fuck me—"

You draw your cock back slowly, savoring the drag, the way her body clings to you, trying to keep you buried. Then you thrust forward again, hard. She cries out, a high, keening sound that bounces off the aseptic walls. Dictating a punishing pace from the start, there’s no gentle build-up, only the desperate need to claim, to possess, to lose yourself in the heat and friction of her cunt.

The desk creaks ominously under the force of your thrusts. Papers cascade to the floor. As far as you’re concerned, the office is on break.

The sounds are obscene: the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh, her ragged cries, your own guttural groans, the rhythmic creak of the protesting wood. It forms a chaotic symphony that’s music to your ears. You don’t care. Let security hear. Let the whole fucking building know. Right now, there’s only this. Only Momo, spread open beneath you, taking everything you give, her professional facade shattered by primal need.

"You feel incredible," you grunt, pounding into her relentlessly, watching her breasts bounce in hypnotic waves. "So fucking tight—taking me so well—such a perfect body, fuck—" Your praise spills out, fervent and unchained, your loins set ablaze by the sight of her submission, the feel of her clench on you. "Made for this—made for my cock—"

Momo whimpers, her hands clawing at your shirt, tearing buttons in desperation. Her legs wrap around your hips, pulling you deeper with each thrust. Thrashing her head from side to side on the desk’s surface, her hair loosens from its tight knot, spilling around her in a dark halo. "Don't stop—fuck me—use me!"

Her words, her utter abandon, fuel your frenzy. You fuck her relentlessly, each thrust deeper and harder, driven by a hunger that borders on excess. Leaning down, you capture a taut nipple in your mouth again, sucking hard as you hammer into her. She screams, her body bowing off the desk, her pussy walls spasming on your cock.

Releasing her breast, your mouth finds hers again in a messy kiss. You taste blood; hers or yours, you don’t know, nor do you care.

One hand grips her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding her steady against your assault. The other slides down, finding the slick, swollen nub above where you’re joined. You rub her clit in tight, fast circles. Her reaction is instantaneous, explosive.

"Oh God—fuck—fuck yes—that’s it—right there!” she shrieks, her voice raw, breaking. “You’ll make me—oh fuck—I’m gonna—”

You feel a tectonic shift building beneath you. Her breathing fractures into sharp, whistling gasps that fog the cold office air, and her fingernails carve deeply into your shoulders as her back arches off the mahogany, suspending her body in a trembling bridge between your hips and the desk. A high-pitched whine escapes her throat, climbing in pitch as her thighs wrap harshly around your waist, her slick walls tensing up in incremental waves that pull you deeper with each contraction. The relentless friction coiling her body tighter, tighter, until she’s trembling on the knife-edge of surrender, every nerve alight and begging for release.

Then, in a moment of weakness, she crumbles.

“I’m cumming!”

A guttural scream rips from her lungs, bouncing off the sterile walls. Her eyes roll back, whites stark against smudged mascara. Her cunt convulses around you—not merely a clamp, but a vise of pulsating, silken heat, rhythmic spasms, milking your shaft with such violent intensity that steals your breath. Her body shudders beneath yours, rushing a torrential wave of slick that drenches your cock, your thighs, the desk—everything. All signed in your name.

The sight, the feel of her coming apart on your cock, the raw, animalistic sounds she makes—it’s your undoing. The coil of pleasure in your own gut snaps.

With a groan that feels ripped directly from your soul, you bury yourself to the hilt one final time and let go. Heat floods her depths, pulsing in sync with the beating of your heart. Collapsing forward over her, bracing your weight on your forearms on the desk, your temple pressed against her sweat-slicked shoulder, gasping for air. Your hips jerk involuntarily with the last few spurts, emptying yourself deep inside her trembling body.

“Yes—all of it—give me all of it—” she whines, breathing against your skin, holding you in a tight embrace as her cunt drains you of every drop. “So warm—”

The silence that follows is thick, broken only by the ragged symphony of your breathing again. The air reeks of sex, sweat, and expensive perfume. Momo lies beneath you, her chest heaving, her eyes slammed shut, tear tracks cutting through the ruin of her makeup. Legs still hooked loosely around your hips, her pussy giving faint, involuntary flutters around your softening cock.

Slowly, carefully, you pull out. A soft whimper escapes her at the loss. You straighten up, looking down at the wreckage of the once formidable Momo: bare-breasted, skirt rucked up around her waist, hair frazzled, skin flushed and glistening with sweat, your cum glinting between her thighs, pooling on the polished mahogany of your desk. It’s a tableau of utter debauchery against the backdrop of power—your father’s cold portrait seeming to watch from the wall.

She opens her eyes. Dazed, unfocused, but they find yours. There’s no immediate shame nor regret. Just a deep, satiated exhaustion, and something else: a profound vulnerability that makes your chest tighten. Slowly, she unwinds her legs from your waist, letting them fall to the floor limp. She makes a feeble attempt to pull her skirt down, but her hands tremble too much, still reeling in the aftermath of her orgasm.

Reaching down, you gently tug the fabric back into place over her hips. A tender gesture after all the promiscuity. You retrieve her discarded clothes off the floor, holding them out, not offering to help her redress, merely presenting them. Momo stares at them for a prolonged moment, then shakily, pushes herself up to sit on the edge of the desk. Averting her gaze as she takes the bra, fumbling to clasp it behind her back. Her movements are clumsy, devoid of their usual precision. The blouse comes next. She buttons it slowly, meticulously, starting from the top, her fingers trembling on each pearl button. The armor is being reassembled, piece by fragile piece.

Silence lingers, thick and awkward now, the heat of passion rapidly cooling into the chill of reality. Quickly you pull up your own trousers, suddenly feeling exposed and strangely guilty. The enormity of your actions—exploiting the power dynamic, crossing an irrevocable line, throwing all caution to the wind—sets in. You’ve complicated an impossible choice beyond measure.

You lean back against the desk beside her, avoiding contact, staring out at the indifferent cityscape.

Momo completes the last button. She smooths the front of her blouse, a futile attempt at erasing the wrinkles. She runs trembling fingers through her ruined hair, trying to tame it. She won’t look at you. The quiet void is suffocating.

"The Henderson—critical path analysis—" She finally speaks, her voice a hoarse murmur, devoid of its usual authority. Clearing her throat, the crack in her inflection painfully loud, borderline grating. It’s the sound of uncertainty. "Kazuha—she will expect—my notes—"

The sentence trails off. She’s trying to re-enter the corporate line, but the words ring hollow.

“I know,” you finish, still unable to face her. Thinking straight seems impossible after what has transpired. “I trust that you will cooperate on the matter. Check up on Kazuha to see how she’s doing.”

“Of course, Director,” is her reply, slowly picking up the strewn papers off the floor. Every click of her heels feels like a piercing arrow to your heart, capped off by the echoed crash of the door behind, signaling Momo’s departure, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

—————

The sterile chill of the office feels especially brittle after Momo’s exit, the air still thick with the ghosts of sweat, sex, and her expensive, spicy perfume. You stare at the abstract painting, the angry reds and cold blues now looking like mocking witnesses. The Henderson file lies scattered on the floor, a casualty of your reckless abandon.

You methodically gather the papers, the mundane task a desperate attempt to reassemble your own shattered composure. Your fingers brush a damp spot on the mahogany desk, and you flinch, hastily wiping it with your sleeve.

Evidence. The word echoes, sharp and accusatory.

The sleek clock reads 9:45 AM. Kazuha is still down on Floor 12, tangled in Manager Miyawaki’s bureaucratic web. Momo—Momo is out there, reassembling her armor. The memory of her bare skin, her shattered control, the taste of her surrender, floods back with paralyzing intensity. Guilt, sharp and corrosive, wars with the lingering, illicit thrill. You’ve crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed, weaponized desire in a game already rigged with cruelty. While Kazuha—brilliant, competitive Kazuha—is still playing by the rules she thinks exist.

Lunchtime approaches, a smaller, inconsequential ticking clock within the larger 72-hour countdown. You need space. You need control—or at least the illusion of it. The plan hatched in the desperate quiet after Momo left solidifies: a way to test Kazuha, to observe her away from Momo’s shadow, and yes, a way to pull her into the private orbit Momo had violently occupied.

A sharp rap on the door precedes Kazuha’s entrance. She strides in, tablet held aloft in her grasp like a trophy, her tailored pantsuit pristine, her smile bright and focused, though her eyes hold a flicker of something harder beneath the surface. Manager Miyawaki’s insights, it seems, were extracted as promised.

"Director! Pain points cataloged and cross-referenced with Logistics data. Sakura-san’s concerns were—” she pauses, slightly laughing in remembrance, a break in character, “—retrospective, as predicted, but I correlated them with real-time shipment logs. Three actionable bottlenecks identified."

Kazuha’s voice is crisp, efficient, radiating competence. She deposits a neatly summarized report on your now-clear desk, right where the Henderson file had been crushed. Her gaze seemingly lingers for a fraction on the polished wood; you can’t really tell.

"Excellent, Kazuha," you manage, your voice thankfully steady. You gesture vaguely towards the report. "Precisely the ground truth we needed." The phrase feels like coal in your mouth. "Just in time for lunch."

Momo then appears silently in the doorway Kazuha left open. Her blouse is impeccably rebuttoned, her hair re-secured in its tight knot, her makeup flawlessly reapplied. Only the faintest trace of redness around her eyes, easily played off as fatigue, betrays the morning’s cataclysm. Her posture is ramrod straight, her expression the familiar mask of neutral professionalism. Yet, the air crackles when she steps inside. An invisible tension wire strung taut between the three of you.

Her eyes meet yours for a fleeting millisecond—a dark, unreadable flash—before shifting to Kazuha.

"Director," Momo states, her voice smooth, devoid of any telltale rasp. "Your usual reservation at Sora is confirmed for 12:00 PM. Shall I have your documents prepared for the 2 PM call with Frankfurt?" Her efficiency is terrifying, a seamless return to form that feels almost inhuman.

This is your moment. The pivot.

"Actually, Momo," you say, keeping your tone casual, dismissive even. "Take your break. Full hour. You’ve earned it after—everything this morning."

You wave a hand vaguely, encompassing the Henderson chaos she helped clean, the emotional fallout she endured. "Go. Relax. Get some air."

Momo’s glare sharpens, laser-focused on you. A beat of silence hangs, heavy with unspoken questions. She’s still a cut above everyone else when it comes to discernment. This kind gesture raises some huge red flags. Her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "Sir, the Frankfurt prep—"

"Can wait," you interrupt, firmer now. "Consider it an order. A long lunch. My treat." You force a smile that feels flimsy. "You look like you could use it."

Her dark eyes hold yours, a silent battle waged in the space between breaths. She sees the dismissal for what it is: exclusion. But the professional in her, the survivor, wins. She gives a single, precise nod. "Understood, Director. Thank you."

She turns on her heel, her movements economical, and walks out, closing the door behind her with a soft, definitive click.

The silence she leaves is immediate, but charged. You and Kazuha stand frozen for a moment, listening. The faint click of Momo’s heels recedes down the corridor towards the elevators. You count the seconds in your head, straining your ears. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. No lingering presence, no telltale shuffle beyond the heavy oak.

"Check," you murmur, directing your eye at the door.

Kazuha doesn’t hesitate. With a fluid, silent movement, she’s at the door. She doesn’t open it. Instead, she presses her ear against the polished wood, closing her eyes in concentration. Another five seconds. Ten. She pulls back, shaking her head minutely. "Clear, Director. The corridor’s empty. Elevator bank chime just sounded. Going down."

Relief washes over you, cold and sharp, followed immediately by a fresh wave of guilt. The stage is set. You gesture towards the plush visitor chairs facing your desk. "Sit, Kazuha. Quick chat about this afternoon before you grab your own lunch."

She obeys, perching on the edge of the chair, her posture alert, tablet resting on her lap. Her bright eyes are fixed on you, curious, attentive. The competitive spark is there, banked but ready. She’s waiting for the next challenge.

You lean back in your chair, the expensive leather creaking. "Frankfurt call is straightforward. But later—4 PM. We have that video conference with Davies from the London office. Pitching the restructured East Asian logistics model. It’s high visibility. Davies reports directly to the board. A good impression here—" you bring emphasis on its significance, letting the ramifications dangle. “—matters. For the EA position.”

Kazuha’s spine straightens almost imperceptibly. Her fingers tighten slightly on the tablet. "Understood, Director. I have the revised model loaded and the key talking points memorized. I can brief you fully after lunch."

"That’s exactly it," is your reply, leaning forward slightly, resting your elbows on the desk. Your gaze locks onto hers. "I want you to lead the presentation, Kazuha. The core pitch. Handle Davies’s questions directly."

Her eyes widen. A flicker of surprise, then pure, unfettered ambition ignites within them. "Me, sir? Lead the pitch?" The fire blazes. This is the ultimate test, the chance to showcase her value directly, decisively.

"Correct. You," you confirm, nodding. "Your grasp of the human element, the way you articulate complex ideas—it’s precisely what this pitch needs. Momo’s brilliance is in the structure, the numbers. Yours? It’s in the sell. I need Davies convinced, not just informed. And I need to see you operate under that kind of pressure."

‘I need to see if you can outperform her when it counts,’ is what you really meant. The unspoken thought hangs between you.

She absorbs the prospect, her mind racing. You can almost see the calculations flashing behind her eyes: the risk, the reward, the sheer, glorious opportunity to eclipse Momo in a high-stakes arena. A slow, determined smile spreads across her face, sharp and opportunistic. The challenge is eagerly accepted. "Consider it done, Director. I won’t disappoint."

"Good," you say, a plan unfolding behind her back. "We’ll need to finalize the flow, anticipate his pushback. Which is why—" You pause, letting the moment build. "I want you to accompany me to lunch. Now. We can strategize properly over sushi. My treat. Consider it a working session."

Kazuha’s smile doesn’t falter, but her gaze sharpens, becoming intensely analytical. She scans your face, then lets her eyes flicker subtly around the room. The meticulously cleared desk, the faint, lingering scent still detectable beneath the climate control’s sterile hum. Her nostrils flare almost imperceptibly. Her gaze drifts towards the polished surface of the mahogany desk, then snaps back to yours. A knowing glint enters her bright eyes, a flicker of something that isn’t surprise, but of recognition.

"The air in here feels different, Director," she remarks, her tone deceptively light. Playful even. Her head tilts slightly, a spirited challenge in the gesture. "Stuffy? Or—perhaps something else lingered after Momo-san’s intensive briefing session this morning?"

The emphasis on 'intensive' is delicate, pointed. Her beam remains bright, but there’s an edge to it now, a daring inquiry. She’s sniffed out the aftermath, the scent of transgression clinging to the leather and wood. And she’s letting you know she’s onto you.

Your pulse stutters. She’s far more observant, far more dangerous, than you gave her credit for. This is more than ambition; it’s strategic awareness. She sees the board, understands the pieces in play, including the volatile new variable introduced this morning, and she’s stepping onto the field anyway.

You force a perfunctory wave, a veil of nonchalance sliding into place, though your gut churns within. "Probably the climate control acting up again. Or maybe Momo spilled some of that strong coffee she brewed."

Standing up, you reach for your coat, a clear signal to get moving. "Nothing to worry about. Come on. That fatty tuna won’t wait forever. We have a pitch to dominate."

You meet her glare head-on, this unspoken game intensifying. Lunch isn’t merely about strategy anymore. It’s the next move in a high-stakes dance where Kazuha, armed with suspicion and ambition, is now fully—worryingly—in play.

The clock ticks. The choice looms ever closer. And the scent of betrayal hangs heavy in the air she so pointedly noticed.

—————

The glossy, minimalist interior of Sora feels jarringly serene compared to the charged atmosphere of the office. The low murmur of other diners, the delicate clink of chopsticks, the subtle scent of wasabi and soy—it should be soothing. Instead, it feels like the calm before another storm. Sitting opposite Kazuha at a discreet corner table, plates of exquisite fatty tuna, uni, and delicate maki rolls remain mostly untouched between you.

Kazuha is in her element, her tablet propped beside her bento box, fingers tracing animatedly over bullet points on the screen. Her tailored pantsuit seems to hum with her focused energy. Her voice is crisp, confident, a stark contrast to the raw vulnerability Momo displayed just hours ago. "And Davies will likely push back on the projected savings from the regional hub consolidation. That’s where we pivot to the tangible efficiency gains in the last-mile delivery network. The data from the Busan pilot is irrefutable. We leverage that, emphasize the scalability—"

But you’re not hearing the words. Not really. Your attention is fixated on her. The way the sunlight catches the subtle gold highlights in her dark hair, pulled back in a sleek, efficient ponytail. The sharp, intelligent line of her jaw, softened slightly when she smiles at a point she’s making. The determined intensity in her bright eyes, flickering between the screen and your face. The surprising grace of her hands as they gesture. She’s always been competent, fiercely so, but now, in this detached observation, a different truth strikes you: She’s stunning. Not in a corporate way, but possessively, disarmingly pretty.

The tailored suit doesn’t hide the graceful line of her neck, the subtle curve hinted beneath the structured fabric. It’s a revelation that hits with unexpected force, twisting the guilt about Momo into something more complex, more dangerous. The plan to isolate her, to test her, curdles into a different, more primal urge.

Take her. Now. Before the meeting. Somewhere private. Claim her like you claimed Momo. Level the playing field in the most visceral way possible.

"—and that’s when we introduce the contingency mitigation matrix," Kazuha continues, tapping the screen decisively. She looks up, expecting some kind of confirmation, or at least engagement. Her eyes meet yours, and she pauses. The focused intensity falters, replaced by a flitter of confusion, then sharp assessment.

"Director?" Her voice cuts through your reverie. "Are you following? You seem—distant. Jet lag hitting harder than usual?"

The question is professional, but her gaze is scrutinizing, dissecting your expression.

You jerk slightly, forcing a deep swallow of ice water that does nothing to cool the sudden heat flooding your veins. "Hmm? No, no jet lag. Just—absorbing the strategy. Davies is a shark. Your approach is sound."

The words feel hollow, inadequate. You motion vaguely at your own nearly full plate. "Dig in. The tuna’s exceptional today."

Kazuha doesn’t give her food a glance. Her eyes narrow fractionally, that unnerving perceptiveness locking onto you. Her smile stays, but it’s tighter now, less genuine. "The tuna is exceptional, Director. Or so I assume. You’ve barely touched yours."

She leans forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, her voice dropping, losing its polished presentation cadence, becoming more intimate, more dangerous. "In fact, you’ve barely touched anything since we sat down. Not the strategy. Not the food." Her gaze flicks pointedly to your untouched sushi, then back to your face, holding yours with peturbing directness. "Your mind seems—preoccupied. Elsewhere. Planning the next move, perhaps?"

You try to deflect, reaching for your chopsticks with feigned nonchalance. "Just a lot on my plate, Kazuha. The promotion. The restructuring. The choice."

Picking up a piece of tuna, it feels heavy and unappetizing. You end up setting it back down.

A beat of silence stretches, thick with the unspoken tension thrumming between you. Kazuha observes you, her head tilted, like a predator assessing its prey. She takes a deliberate sip of tea, placing the cup down with precise softness. When she speaks again, her voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the ambient restaurant sounds, yet it slices through you like a scalpel.

"Director," she begins, her tone deceptively casual, almost conversational. "About this morning. When you sent me down to Procurement." She pauses, letting the implication hang. Her eyes don't waver. "Manager Miyawaki was, as expected, buried in retrospective data. It took considerable effort to extract anything resembling a ground truth pain point."

Another drawn out pause. The air between you grows thick, suffocating. Her finger traces the rim of her teacup. "It also gave me ample time to think. To—observe the variables."

Your blood runs cold. The chopstick slips from your fingers, clattering softly on the porcelain plate. The carefully constructed facade crumbles. You stare at her, unable to speak, the guilt and apprehension you’d been wrestling with now a crushing weight you can’t bear.

Kazuha continues, her voice still low, steady, but with an undercurrent of something hard. "The air in your office when I returned—it had changed. A distinct scent bubbling underneath the coffee and the climate control. Expensive perfume. Floral. Spicy. Her signature scent. And something else—muskier. More primal." She meets your dropping gaze squarely, as if pinning you down. "And the desk, Director. The mahogany near where you lean? It had a different sheen. Smudged. As if something had been hastily wiped away."

She leans forward even further, her voice falling to a conspiratorial whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "You dismissed Momo-san for lunch immediately after. Ordered her to take a full hour. Out of character generosity, especially with the Frankfurt prep looming. Then you ushered me in, told me to check if the corridor was clear—like you were afraid she might be listening."

A faint, knowing smile touches her lips, devoid of its natural warmth. "The pieces weren't hard to assemble, Director. You sent me away on a fool's errand so you could be alone with her. And you used that time. Intimately."

The indictment hangs in the air, brutal in its clarity. The sushi restaurant fades away; all you see is Kazuha’s sharp, beautiful face, her eyes holding yours with a terrifying blend of accusation and pinpoint calculation. Shame floods you, hot and immediate.

"Kazuha—" you stammer, your voice rough. "I—I don't know what to say. It was—complicated. A moment of—weakness. Profoundly unprofessional. I’m sor—"

She cuts you off with a sharp, almost imperceptible shake of her head and the lift of her arm, as if threatening to slap you.

"Don't." The word is quiet but firm. "Don't apologize for the act, Director. Or for wanting her."

Her glare intensifies. "I saw the way you looked at her afterward, when she walked out. And I see the way you’re looking at me now." She doesn't flinch, doesn't look away. "The guilt is pointless. The apology, unnecessary. I knew why you were sending me to Procurement the moment you gave the command. It’s among the slowest, most bureaucratic departments. A deliberate delay. A transparent ploy."

Your breath hitches. "You knew? And you went anyway?"

"Of course." Kazuha shrugs. A light, elegant motion. "Loyalty. Obedience. And—curiosity. To see what you would do. How far you would go." She leans back slightly, her posture relaxing infinitesimally, yet her eyes remain laser-focused. "I don't mind, Director. Truly. The game changed the moment the CEO issued his ultimatum. Alliances shift. Strategies evolve. Desires—surface." Her stare drops to your mouth for a fleeting second, then right back up. "What I do mind—is impartiality. An uneven playing field."

She pauses, letting the silence build again, her meaning crystal clear. She picks up her chopsticks, selects a perfect piece of tuna, and places it delicately in her mouth, chewing slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. The casualness of the act is unnerving.

"Impartiality?" you echo, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Kazuha swallows, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "Momo-san," she states bluntly, "leveraged a private moment. She gained insight. Influence. Intimacy," she emphasizes the last word, "She has data I do not possess. An advantage in this—extended performance review."

A shade of her earlier, predatory smile returns. "That puts me at a distinct disadvantage, wouldn't you agree, Director? Especially when the criteria seem to be expanding beyond quarterly reports and merger timelines."

The implication is breathtaking in its audacity. She’s not angry about the betrayal; she’s strategizing. Assessing the context. Demanding parity.

Your guilt curdles, replaced by a surge of incredulous heat. "Are you suggesting that—" you start, unable to fully voice it.

"That you level the field," Kazuha finishes smoothly, dropping back to that intimate murmur. "That we share a similar moment. Privately. Before the Davies call."

Her gaze is unwavering, challenging, yet beneath the steel, there’s a flicker of something else: anticipation. Desire.

"Consider it—due diligence. A necessary data point for your evaluation. To ensure your decision is based on a complete, unbiased assessment of all relevant competencies."

She leans forward again, the scent of her own perfume—lighter, fresher than Momo’s—like citrus and green tea, mingling with the soy and wasabi. "You look at me like you want it too, Director. Like you’ve wanted it. Perhaps longer than you even realized." Her hand rests on the table, inches from yours. No contact, but the proximity is charged with high tension. "I saw it this morning, even before I put the pieces together. That look—it wasn't just about the Henderson file."

She’s right. The hunger you felt looking at her, the plan forming even as she spoke about Davies—it wasn’t merely about manipulating the competition. It was her. Her fierce intelligence, her unexpected beauty, the dangerous edge beneath the polished professionalism. The memory of Momo’s surrender is suddenly overlaid with the visceral image of Kazuha yielding in a different way, on different terms.

The remaining pretense evaporates. The corporate veneer, the shame, the fear of consequences—it all shrivels under the furnace of her proposition and your own roaring desire. You meet her challenging gaze, the tension coiling tighter than any merger negotiation.

"Yes," you say, the word rough, but definitive. "I have. Wanted it. Wanted you."

You don't look away; she needs to soak in every word. The admission feels like shedding a heavy layer of skin. "Since long before today. Since before the ultimatum."

Kazuha’s smile blooms, not predatory, but triumphant. Satisfied. A hunter who’s cornered her quarry and found it willingly compliant.

"We have," she calculates swiftly, glancing at the trim watch on her wrist, "approximately ninety minutes before we need to be back for final prep. The Imperial Heights is three blocks away. Their penthouse suites offer exceptional—discretion. And efficiency." She raises an eyebrow, the challenge implicit. "Shall I make the reservation, Director? Or would you prefer to handle the logistics?"

The casual mention of the luxury hotel, the cool efficiency with which she transitions from blackmail to booking, is dizzying. She’s orchestrated this. Planned the move while you were still lost in lustful fantasies. The power dynamic shifts again, leaving you animated and slightly spellbound.

"Do it," you instruct, your voice low, charged. You push your untouched plate away, appetite replaced by a different, ravenous hunger. "Discretion is paramount."

“Consider it handled." Kazuha nods, already pulling out her phone, her fingers flying over the screen with rehearsed speed. She doesn't bother to look up as she speaks. "A suite. Ninety minutes. Paid in cash under a corporate discretionary code I have access to. Untraceable." She finishes the transaction, slips the phone back into her coat pocket, and looks up, her eyes gleaming. "Done. We leave in five minutes. Finish your water, Director. You’ll need your strength."

She picks up her chopsticks again, selects another piece of tuna, and eats it with deliberate slowness, watching you over the rim of her water glass. The casual act is infused with potent, deliberate sensuality. Lunch is officially over. The next phase of the performance review has begun. And as you watch Kazuha, her beauty refined by her ruthless intellect and audacious demand, you understand the true cost of leveling the field. You’re not simply evaluating them anymore; they’re evaluating you.

The stakes have been raised exponentially higher now. The clock is ticking down to the Davies meeting, while all you can think about is the taste of her skin and the terrifying power play that’s about to unfold in a penthouse suite three blocks away.

—————

The heavy door of the suite clicks shut behind you, the sound swallowed instantly by plush silence and the muffled roar of the city 14 floors below. Discretion, indeed.

Before the latch fully settles, Kazuha is all over you. Her mouth crashes against yours with none of Momo’s initial, calculated unraveling. This is fire and fury, a competitive hunger channeled into pure, claiming possession. Her fingers knot in your hair, pulling your head down to meet her demanding kiss. Your hands, acting on the frantic instinct she ignited over untouched sushi, grab her hips, pulling her flush against you. You fumble for the jacket buttons. The tailored lines of her pantsuit feel like an insulting barrier.

She breaks the kiss with a gasp that’s half-laugh, half-challenge, her eyes blazing inches from yours. "Logistics, Director," she breathes, already shrugging out of the jacket before you can finish. It hits the marble floor with a soft thud. "Efficiency." Her fingers fly to the buttons of her crisp white blouse, popping them open with ruthless speed, revealing a simple black lace bra beneath. "No time for finesse."

Her urgency is contagious, a match to the aching heat coiling in your gut. You kiss her again, hard, your hands sliding under the open blouse, palms skimming the warm, smooth skin of her back, finding the clasp of her bra. She arches into the touch, a low moan vibrating against your lips as the lace gives way. The blouse follows the jacket, pooling around her feet as she pushes you back, her strength surprising.

Stumbling back your knees collide with the edge of the massive king bed. You fall onto the cool, expensive duvet. Kazuha follows you down, straddling your hips, her knees pinning your thighs. The black lace cups hang loose, barely containing the swell of her tits. Her hair, freed from its sleek ponytail, frames her face in dark, tousled waves. Her eyes, bright and fierce, hold yours captive.

"No," she commands, placing a hand flat on your chest when you try to sit up. "Stay. Answer."

The abrupt shift is startling. The heat radiating from her, the pressure of her body on yours, clashes violently with the ice in her gaze. This penthouse suite feels suddenly claustrophobic.

"You sent me away," she states, the words precise, cutting. "You cleared the field. You were alone with her." Her free hand trails down, not seductively, but inquisitively, tracing the line of your jaw, then your throat. The touch burns through your skin. "What did you do with Momo, Director? In my office? On my desk?"

The possessiveness in ‘my desk’ is a razor cut. Guilt and lust war within you, a deadly combination. You can’t lie. Not under that gaze. Not with the phantom scent of Momo’s skin still clinging to your memory, now overlain by Kazuha’s citrus-green tea perfume.

"Her blouse," you rasp, your voice thick. Your hands hover at her waist, desperate to touch, terrified to move. "The buttons. I—undid them." The confession feels ripped out, like a truth serum injected in your veins. "Slowly."

Kazuha’s eyes narrow. Her thumb presses against your pulse point, feeling its frantic hammering, delivering its own brand of punishment. "And?"

"Her skin," You swallow hard. The image is seared onto your retinas. "Hot. Smooth. She let me see." Your gaze flickers involuntarily to Kazuha’s own exposed skin, the black lace a stark contrast against pale flesh. "I touched her. Touched her tits. Cupped them. Squeezed."

An unreadable flicker passes through Kazuha’s eyes. Not of jealousy, but intense, analytical focus. "Describe them," she demands, her voice low, dangerous. "Fit? Perfect? Made for it?" She throws your own likely praise back at you like a weapon.

"Yes," you admit, the concession a heavy groan. The memory surges, vivid and punishing. "Full. Heavy. Perfect weight. Responsive." Your hands twitch on her hips. "I—I tasted them. Sucked. Licked. She cried out. Begged."

Kazuha leans down, her hair brushing your face. Her breath ghosts hot against your ear. "And then? Did you fuck her, Director? On the mahogany? Like the animal you felt like?" The crudeness coming from her is electrifying.

"Yes," you gasp, nodding with light discomfort. The admission unleashes a torrent of confessed sins. "Hard. Fast. Against the desk. She screamed. Clawed at me. Took everything. Said—things. Begged for it. Begged for—me.”

The words continue to tumble out, raw and unfiltered, painting a brutal, beautiful picture of Momo’s surrender. "She was—tight. So fucking tight. Wet. Hot. I came inside her—deep. Felt her milk me dry."

Silence hangs, thick and charged. Kazuha remains poised atop you, her expression inscrutable. Her breathing is slightly faster, her cheeks seared and flushed, but her gaze remains fiercely analytical, dissecting your confession, measuring it against—something. The competitive fire burns hotter than lust.

"Tight," she echoes finally, a thoughtful murmur. Her hand leaves your chest, drifting up to trace her own collarbone, then down, skimming the edge of the loose black lace covering her left breast. A deliberate, provocative movement. "Fit body. Of course she does. Military precision in everything, including her gym routine."

A hint of something resembling respect colors her tone, quickly overshadowed by a sharper edge. She meets your eyes once more, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "I’m not built like that, Director. Not—voluptuous."

Her grin deepens, turning wicked. "But I’m not weak."

With a fluid, decisive motion, she reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra, the lace falling away. "I spend time at the gym too."

Pulling the cups down slowly, revealing small, shapely breasts, pert and perfectly shaped, tipped with dusky pink nipples already firm from the adrenaline and the cool air. "Just—differently."

Still mounting you, Kazuha shifts her weight, reaching for the fastening of her tailored pants. The zipper hisses down, its sound like a sword being drawn. She lifts her hips, wriggling, pushing the expensive fabric down over her hips, revealing matching black lace panties, then further, down her thighs. Kicking them off, the pants join the growing pile of discarded armor on the bedroom floor.

"Efficiency," she repeats, her voice husky now, laced with a challenge you can’t refuse. Hooking her thumbs into the sides of her panties, she demands your every attention. Her eyes meet with yours, holding you prisoner. "No time for finesse, remember?"

Kazuha pushes the lace down in a single smooth motion, baring her cunt at the apex of her slender, toned thighs. She lifts her knees, pulling the panties down her legs, over her ankles, and flicks them aside with a toe.

Then she rises, standing tall beside the bed, bathed in the cool afternoon light filtering through the penthouse windows. Completely bare. Utterly exposed. And utterly in command.

"Look," she commands, her voice low and steady. "Look at me, Director. Look at what I offer."

And you do. You drink her up, take in her seraphic physique with stunned awe. Where Momo was lush curves and surrendered strength, Kazuha is a study in lean, tensile power. Her body is a sculptor’s dream of slender lines and defined muscle—the subtle ridges of her abdomen, the elegant sweep of her collarbones, the firm, compact roundness of her breasts, the long, graceful line of her legs honed by whatever disciplined routine she follows. The light catches the faint sheen of sweat on her skin, highlighting the definition in her shoulders, the tautness of her thighs.

She’s not fragile; she’s a honed blade–beautiful and dangerous.

The silence stretches. Thick with the weight of her audacious display and the raw vulnerability beneath her defiance. She holds your gaze, unflinching, letting you see every inch, every contour. This isn’t an offer; it’s a statement. An evaluation on her own terms.

The gilded cage of the office feels galaxies away. Here, in this sterile luxury suite, with 70 minutes ticking down to a high-stakes presentation, the only performance review that matters is happening right now, on Kazuha’s fiercely claimed stage.

“Since you’ve got those grubby hands on her tits and pussy,” she chirps, crouching forward, taking firm lease of your wrinkled shirt. Assessing the damage, further adding to the laundry list of incriminating evidence. Unbuttoning them in quick succession, she parts your chest, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. “Can’t look so ruined for the meeting later, can we?”

You shake your head in agreement, firmly locked up in Kazuha’s control.

Her flexibility and adaptability had been one of her strongest assets. Never did you think it applied in the literal sense too.

Stretching her toned legs close to parallel ends of the bed, she hovers atop your body, helpless and vulnerable beneath her. Hovering up your chest, her pussy finds itself inches away from your face. Throbbing, twitching, wanting.

Dangerously drenched and wet, like the thought of what’s to come arouses her. It leaves you speechless.

“Did ballet in my youth,” she explains, looking down, despite your eyes not directly in view. Ignoring the fact that your attention is fixated on her quivering pussy, your tongue watering. “Still do in my spare time, actually.”

Her words hang in the cool air, charged and undeniable. Kazuha’s lithe form hovers above you, a study in controlled power and deliberate exposure. The scent of her slick floods your senses even before making contact. Her thighs, taut with the strain of her ballet-honed flexibility, frame the glistening apex of her cunt, like a sacred offering demanding worship. You’re pinned, not only by her knees bracketing your ribs, but also by the fierce, analytical fire in her eyes. This isn’t surrender; it’s a meticulously staged evaluation.

She descends.

Not with crushing weight, but with deliberate, unhurried pressure. The first touch is a searing brand: the hot, swollen flesh of her outer lips pressing against your mouth, smearing your lips with her slick. It’s an electric shock, the taste bursting across your tongue: tangy salt, underlying sweetness, uniquely her.

A choked gasp escapes you, muffled instantly by her flesh. Above you, Kazuha lets out a low, shuddering sigh, her head tipping back, eyes momentarily fluttering shut before snapping back open, fixing on yours with laser focus.

Her hand fists in your hair, not painfully, but possessively, anchoring you. "Taste it, Director," she breathes, thick but controlled. "Taste what you sent me away for. Taste what I have."

The invitation fuels your hunger. You obey. Instinct takes over, guided by the saccharine scent and her demanding grip. Your tongue flicks out, tentative at first, tracing the slick seam of her. A jolt runs through her, a full-body tremble that vibrates against your face. A sharp, bitten-off whimper escapes her lips.

"More," she commands, the word strained. Her hips make a minute, involuntary grind against your mouth.

You delve deeper. Your tongue parts her folds, seeking the source of that intoxicating wetness. Finding her entrance, swollen and yielding, and circling it slowly, savoring the silken texture, the way her inner muscles flutter in response. Her grip on your hair tightens, a silent demand for pressure. Press the flat of your tongue firmly against her opening, lapping at the gathered nectar. The taste intensifies, flooding your senses—musky, complex, utterly consuming. Her thighs clamp tighter around your head, a velvet vise.

"Yes—" she hisses, the form in her voice cracking. "Like that—fuck—just like that—"

You explore even further, mapping her terrain with your tongue. You find the hard, eager nub of her clit, swollen and pulsing like a trapped heartbeat. A feather-light flick across it, flat and purposeful.

Kazuha jolts. A ragged cry tears from her throat, echoing in the sterile luxury of the suite. Her back arches violently off your chest, her body suspended in a trembling arc. "God! Right—there—don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—"

Encouraged, emboldened by the shattering of her composure, you focus your assault. You circle her clit with firm, insistent strokes of your tongue, mimicking the relentless pace she demands in the boardroom. Suckling gently first, then harder, drawing the sensitive bud between your lips. Her cries escalate, fracturing into high, keening whines. Her free hand scrabbles against the duvet, wrestling the fabric. Her hips begin to rock in desperate, erratic little rounds against your mouth, riding your tongue, seeking more friction, deeper contact.

The slow burn ignites into a wildfire. Her scent, her taste, the desperate sounds she makes—it’s an intoxicating feedback loop. You bury your face deeper, pressing your nose deeper against the wiry curls at the base of her mound, breathing her in. Your tongue plunges into her wet core, fucking her shallowly, before withdrawing to lavish attention back on her clit, alternating your rhythm, keeping her teetered on the edge. You feel her tightening around the tip of your tongue when you delve inside, a prelude to the convulsions you know are coming.

"Oh fuck—oh fuck—I can’t—" she babbles, her words dissolving into incoherent whimpers. Her thighs are trembling violently now, slick with sweat and her own arousal where they press harshly against your cheeks. Her breath comes in short, sharp intervals. "You’re—gonna make me—I’m gonna—"

She doesn’t finish her sentence. The seismic shift beneath your mouth is unmistakable.

Kazuha’s entire body locks up, rigid as a bowstring pulled taut. A guttural, animalistic groan rips from her chest, raw and primal. Her cunt clenches spasmodically around your probing tongue, a pulsing, rhythmic vise. A hot flood of slick gushes against your lips, chin, and cheeks—her release, copious and uncontrollable, drenching you in her essence.

It tastes like victory and salt and pure, unadulterated Kazuha.

The orgasm rolls through her in violent waves. Her hips buck wildly against your face, grinding down, seeking every last ounce of pleasure as her body milks the imaginary intrusion. Her cries are screams and curses of abandon, echoing off the penthouse walls. Tears streak down her temples, mingling with sweat. Her grip on your hair is almost painful, holding you locked against her as she convulses.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the tremors subside. The frantic rocking gentles to shallow, involuntary shudders. Her grip on your hair loosens, her hand falling limp on the bed beside your head. Her body sags, collapsing forward, her chest heaving against yours, slick with sweat. The fierce warrior is gone, replaced by a trembling, utterly spent creature.

You lie perfectly still beneath her, your face covered with her release. The taste of her, citrus-sharp and musky-sweet, still coats your lips as Kazuha lays forward, her spent body trembling inches ahead against yours. Her ragged breaths warm your sternum, her heartbeat a frantic drum against your ribs.

For a moment, it feels like surrender. A ceasefire. Except it isn’t.

Kazuha pushes herself up slowly, bracing her palms against your sweat-slicked chest. Her dark hair clings to her temples, her eyes—bright, fierce, and utterly clear—lock onto yours. There’s no lingering haze of release, only a renewed focus. A predator assessing its next move. A faint, dangerous smile touches her kiss-swollen lips.

"Not bad, Director," she rasps, her voice scraped raw but laced with deliberate, teasing appraisal. Her thumb traces the wetness glistening on your chin—her wetness. "Competent technique. Efficient. But—" She leans closer, her breath ghosting over your mouth. "—eating me out was the appetizer. Momo got the main course, right? Your cock buried deep inside her. Claiming her. Filling her."

Her hips shift subtly against your thighs, a deliberate spark of friction that reignites the heat low in your belly. Her gaze doesn’t waver.

"It would be—profoundly unfair," she murmurs, the corporate euphemism laced with carnal intent, "if my performance review lacked that critical data point. Don’t you agree?"

Her hand slides down your abdomen, fingers deftly finding the waistband of your trousers, tracing the straining outline beneath. "I need a comparative analysis. Firsthand."

The demand hangs in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. The clock on the sleek bedside table glows with urgency. 53 minutes remain. Davies looms. Dad’s ultimatum ticks. None of which warrant your dire attention. Only the fierce intelligence blazing in her eyes, the possessive pressure of her hand, and the roaring need she’s rekindled.

You don’t hesitate. Leveraging your strength, you grip her waist firmly, hauling her limp-but-willing body back up your torso. She gasps, a sound of surprise morphing instantly into approval as you maneuver her, settling her firmly astride your lap. Her bare thighs bracket your hips, her slick heat pressed directly against the fabric trapping your aching cock. The position forces her to look down at you, her face inches from yours, her expression a mix of triumph and raw anticipation.

"Level the field, Kazuha?" you growl, your voice gravelly. "Prove the playing field is even?"

"Due diligence," she counters breathlessly, her smile sharpening.

Her hands are already at work, fingers flying over your belt buckle with terrifying efficiency. The clasp snaps open, followed by the pop of the button. The zipper hisses down. She maintains eye contact, her gaze holding yours captive as she shoves the fabric over your hips, freeing your throbbing cock. The cool air is a shock, instantly replaced by the searing heat of her palm wrapping around your length, giving one long, possessive stroke that draws a guttural groan from your throat.

"Now we’re talking," she purrs, leaning in. Her mouth crashes against yours, not in tentative exploration but in a fierce, claiming kiss. Her tongue invades, demanding, tasting herself on your lips. It’s messy and merciless. A struggle for control fought with lips and teeth and shared, desperate breaths. Her hand pumps you slowly, firmly, settling on a rhythm that mirrors your frantic heartbeat.

The angle is perfect. You grip her hips tighter, fingers digging into the firm muscle of her ass. With a grunt of effort, you lift her slight frame easily—ballet strength meeting desperate need. Her knees dig into the mattress on both sides of your thighs. She understands instantly, bracing her hands on your shoulders, her eyes widening slightly as she feels the blunt, insistent pressure of your cockhead against her drenched entrance.

"Show me," she sighs against your lips, the challenge explicit. "Show me what you gave her."

The command sets you off. You thrust upwards. Hard.

She cries out—a sharp, surprised sound instantly swallowed by your mouth as you impale her in one smooth, relentless stroke. She’s tight—a different kind of tightness than Momo’s voluptuous grip. Kazuha’s cunt is a sleek, silken sheath, hot and clinging, molded perfectly around your invading length, muscles fluttering in shocked, exquisite welcome. Her inner walls grip you like a velvet fist, impossibly intimate, impossibly right.

"Fuck!" she gasps, breaking the kiss, her head thrown back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. Her back arches, pressing her small, perfect breasts against your chest. "Oh God—yes— that's—so—fucking—big—"

You don’t give her room to breathe. Your hands lock onto her hips, guiding her, setting a brutal, driving pace right from the start. She meets you thrust for thrust, her body a coiled spring releasing pent-up energy. Her hips roll and grind down onto you with fierce precision, taking you impossibly deep, milking your cock with the same ruthless efficiency she applies to spreadsheets. The bed creaks violently beneath you; the headboard slams against the wall in rhythmic protest.

Moans tear from both of you. Raw, unvarnished sounds that fill the otherwise aseptic suite. There’s no corporate veneer here, only unadulterated lust and a frantic, competitive drive to outperform, to conquer, to win.

You bury your face against the sweat-slicked column of her neck, teeth scraping, lips sucking, leaving blooming marks: dark, possessive bruises against her pale skin. Your mouth trails lower, capturing a peaked nipple, sucking hard, swirling your tongue, reveling in her sharp cry and the way her cunt clenches convulsively around you.

"Harder!" she demands, her voice cracking, her fingers clawing at your back, at the nape of your neck. "Fuck me harder! Don't hold back! Don’t fucking stop!"

There’s no denying Kazuha, even if you dared to try. Your grip on her hips becomes bruising, slamming her down onto your upward thrusts with brutal force. Your pace becomes punishing, a frantic race towards oblivion. The wet slap of flesh on flesh, her gasping cries, your own guttural groans—it’s a symphony of abandon. Her lean muscles flex and strain beneath your hands, her body a perfect instrument of pleasure meeting your every demand, pushing back with equal ferocity. She rides you so fucking well, chasing her own peak with single-minded intensity, her inner walls tightening, fluttering, signaling the approach of a second climax.

“Yes—” she hisses, her body bowing, trembling like a plucked wire. "There—right there—gonna cum—again—”

Kazuha’s cry is sharp, triumphant. Her pussy spasms violently around your cock, a pulsing, rhythmic vise that steals your breath. Her release is another hot flood, drenching your shared union. Body convulsing as she grinds down, demanding everything you have.

The sight of her fierce, controlled beauty unraveling completely in your lap, the feel of her silken walls draining you with desperate intensity, the raw, possessive sounds she makes—it’s your undoing. It shatters you.

With a roar torn from the depth of your lungs, you bury yourself deep in her womb, holding her hips flush against yours as your own climax detonates. Suffocating heat surges up your spine, erupting in thick, pulsing jets deep inside her clenching warmth. Emptying yourself completely in her, each spurt wrenched from you by the fierce suction of her orgasm, filling her, claiming her in the most primeval way possible.

Your vision whites out, consciousness narrowing to the burning point of connection, the feel of her trembling around you, the scent of sex and sweat and Kazuha.

The frenetic energy evaporates like steam. Kazuha slumps forward, her body boneless, her forehead resting against your collarbone. Her breath comes in ragged, whistling gasps against your skin. Yours matches it, harsh and labored. The room, once loud and chaotic, now floods with a sudden void of quiet. Only your shared struggle for air and the feverish thudding of your hearts slowly beginning to ease.

Slowly, carefully, your ironclad grip on her hips loosens. She makes a soft, incoherent sound of protest as your softening cock slips from her heat, followed by a slow trickle of your combined release onto your thighs. The evidence is stark, undeniable.

Exhaustion, profound and absolute, crashes over you both. Still joined in the cradle of your lap, you lean back, collapsing together onto the rumpled duvet. Kazuha doesn’t resist, curling instinctively against your chest, her head finding solace beneath your chin. One of her slender arms drapes across your waist, her fingers splaying covetously over your hip. Your own arm wraps around her, holding her close, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse gradually slow against your skin.

Silence descends, thick and heavy, now filled with the aftermath rather than anticipation. The sterile luxury of the penthouse suite feels like a desolate planet. The scent of sex is overwhelming: a heady, intimate perfume. Kazuha’s skin burns hot where it presses against yours, damp with sweat. Her breathing evens out, growing calmer and deeper. The fierce competitor in her disappears, replaced by a sated, vulnerable warmth curled against your embrace.

You stare up at the ceiling, the pristine white expanse offering no answers. The taste of her, the feel of her tight heat, the possessive marks on her neck, the knowledge of your seed deep inside her—it’s a brand, seared onto your consciousness alongside the memory of Momo’s surrender on your desk. The playing field isn’t leveled, not in the slightest; if anything, it’s mined with complications. Davies awaits. The 72-hour clock, closer to 48 now, ticks relentlessly towards an impossible choice. The scent of betrayal—your betrayal, their competition—hangs heavier than ever.

Kazuha stirs gently, nuzzling closer. Her voice, when it comes, is a sleep-thickened murmur, devoid of its earlier sharpness, yet carrying a weight that settles deep in your gut.

"Data collected, Director," she sighs, her breath warm against your skin. Her fingers tighten minutely on your hip. "Analysis pending."

The clock glows. A little too bright for tired eyes. 32 minutes till Frankfurt. As far you know, the performance review isn’t over, it’s entered its most devastating phase. You hold her closer, the warmth of her body a temporary solace against a chilling reality: no matter who you choose, you’ve already lost.

—————

Hours later, the air in your office still crackles with the afterburn of Kazuha’s triumph. Davies’ face, a pixelated smear of genuine approval moments ago, has vanished from the screen, leaving behind the echo of his closing words: "Impressive restructuring model, Miss Nakamura. Exceptionally well-articulated. We look forward to the East Asia pivot under your Director's leadership."

The silence that follows isn't empty; it's thick with the unspoken tension thrumming between you and Kazuha, a live wire strung taut across the mahogany desk.

Kazuha leans back in the plush guest chair, sweat glistening at her temples despite the room's tempered chill. Her tailored pantsuit is pristine, her tablet resting neatly on her lap, but her eyes hold a fierce, luminous exhaustion—and something else. A quiet, possessive satisfaction aimed directly at you.

"Ground truth delivered, Director," she murmurs, the ghost of a crafty smile touching her lips. The phrase, once sterile corporate jargon, now feels loaded and personal. A reminder of the data point collected in that penthouse suite, the desperate coupling that followed her demand for parity. Her gaze flicks, almost imperceptibly, towards the polished surface of the desk.

Before you can formulate a response, the heavy oak door clicks open.

Momo stands framed in the doorway. Her entrance is characteristically precise, heels clicking a measured staccato on the polished concrete. Her expression is the usual mask of professional neutrality, but her eyes sweep the room, taking in Kazuha’s relaxed posture, your own slightly disheveled state (a button undone at the collar, hair perhaps ruffled from running a nervous hand through it during Davies’ tougher questions). She sees the lingering energy, the shared secret hanging in the air. Her gaze lingers on the desk for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"The call concluded smoothly, I trust?" Her voice is smooth, devoid of inflection, yet it feels like an indictment. She knows. She always knows.

Kazuha’s smile widens, bold and sharp. "Exceptionally, Momo-san. Davies was practically eating out of my hand by the end. The synergy projections, the contingency matrix—he loved it all. Didn't he, Director?"

She turns that bright, expectant gaze on you, forcing acknowledgment.

"She was flawless," you confirm, the words tasting like dust. The compliment is genuine: Kazuha was brilliant, intuitive, persuasive, but voicing it here, now, with Momo’s impassive gaze dissecting you, feels like picking a side. "Handled every curveball Davies threw. Secured buy-in."

Momo inclines her head—a precise, pinpoint motion. "Efficient. Well-executed, Zuha." The praise is delivered with glacial correctness. Her eyes, however, remain fixed on you.

The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken things: the scent of expensive floral-spicy perfume that might still cling to the leather chair Kazuha occupies, the phantom memory of Momo’s bare skin against cool mahogany, the echo of Kazuha’s cries in the sterile penthouse. The desk feels like an altar to your transgressions.

"A successful day, then. Henderson secured this morning. Davies secured this afternoon." It’s Momo who breaks the brittle quiet, stepping fully into the room. Her heels click closer to the desk. She lets the weight of the achievements settle—accomplishments built on their relentless, cutthroat drive, powered by your impossible choice. Her gaze, when it lifts to meet yours, is unnervingly direct, stripped of its usual corporate veneer. "What’s the status on the—primary decision, Director?"

The question lands like a tactical grenade. Kazuha’s playful energy instantly sharpens, her posture straightening mechanically. Both pairs of eyes lock onto you. The room shrinks, the city lights beyond the window blurring into minute insignificance.

"Swayed?" you echo, the word scraping out. You comb a hand through your hair, the gesture encompassing the exhaustion, the guilt, the sheer, crushing weight of it. A hollow laugh escapes your lips. "Christ. You both—" You gesture helplessly between them, the brilliant, terrifying women who hold your professional fate—and far more—in their hands. "Momo, your control, your foresight—Kazuha, that fire, that adaptability—You saw Davies. You both know what you bring. How the fuck do I quantify that? How do I choose between—" You trail off, the corporate euphemism dying on your tongue. "Between irreplaceable assets?"

"Between us, you mean," Kazuha clarifies, low and intense. No room for professional evasion now.

You meet her gaze, then Momo’s. The icy pragmatism in the older woman’s eyes is undercut by a flicker of something raw—the same vulnerability you’d unglued on this very desk. Kazuha’s fierce determination holds a possessive edge, forged in the heat of the penthouse. The images crash together: Momo arching beneath you, surrendering control with a shattered gasp; Kazuha demanding parity, her body a honed blade marking you.

The leaden anchor of guilt settles deeper in your gut.

"Yes," you admit, the word raw. "Between you. And no. I'm not swayed. Not definitively. It's—" You search for the word, finding only the brutal truth. "It's fucking impossible."

Momo’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. Kazuha leans forward, elbows on her knees. "Impossible doesn't fly with the CEO, Director," the younger woman reminds you, her response laced with a warning. "The clock is ticking."

"Less than 48 hours remain," states Momo, regaining her clipped efficiency, though the lack of polish lingers beneath the surface. "Sufficient time for further—evaluation." The pause before evaluation is deliberate, heavy with the memory of her own ‘interview.’

The word feels like a brand. Evaluation. Performance reviews that bled into passionate claims, professional boundaries obliterated by desperate need and ruthless strategy. You feel flayed open. Exposed.

"I know," you manage, tight with their crushing grip. The weight of today—the mergers, the presentations, the crushing intimacy, the looming dismissal—it’s all crashing down. "And I will. But not now. The workday is over. Get out of here. Both of you."

The dismissal is firmer than intended, a desperate need for the suffocating pressure of their combined presence to lift.

The women exchange a glance—a fleeting, unreadable communication that passes between rivals who understand each other far too well. Momo nods once, curt and precise.

"Understood, Director. Try to rest."

Her words aren't gentle; they're an order, a cautionary reminder of the battles yet to come. She turns, her posture still ramrod straight, and walks out, the door clicking shut with finality.

Kazuha rises more slowly. She flashes you a smile that doesn't reach her watchful eyes. "Sweet dreams, boss. Dream of—streamlined reporting chains."

The sardonic twist on corporate jargon is pointed. She lingers for a heartbeat, her gaze sweeping over you, the desk, the room, before following Momo out. The silence they leave behind is absolute, oppressive, amplifying the frantic buzzing in your skull.

Alone.

The indifferent city sprawls below, a tapestry of lights mocking your turmoil.

Then there’s your father’s voice, dry, rasping, devoid of parental warmth, echoes in the cavernous silence of your mind, a relentless ghost haunting this gilded cage. "Sentiment is inefficient. Choose."

The cold calculus of his world—one promoted, one discarded—feels like a vise crushing your chest.

The cool glass does nothing to soothe the heat of shame and confusion pooling within. Pushing yourself away from the window, your steps inevitably lead back to the mahogany monstrosity you call your desk. Your hand drifts across its polished surface, tracing the grain.

Here. This is where control shattered. Where Momo’s icy precision dissolved into eager surrender, where professional lines were irrevocably crossed. The phantom scent of her perfume, the memory of her heat, the sound of her choked gasp as you claimed her—it floods back, visceral and punishing.

A heavier weariness pulls you down. You sink back into your obscenely expensive chair, the leather sighing, crying out your turmoil. The Henderson file, a casualty of that morning’s frenzy, sits neatly stacked now, a monument to Momo’s terrifying efficiency in covering the tracks.

But the desk—the desk remembers everything.

Your hand moves almost of its own volition, dipping into the inner pocket of your suit jacket. Your fingers brush against soft, delicate lace. You pull them out.

Kazuha’s panties. Black lace, slightly damp still from her frantic arousal in the penthouse elevator, from the heat of your sexually-charged union. The memento you’d pocketed unconsciously, a visceral token of her victory, her demand for parity fulfilled. They feel absurdly small, impossibly intimate in your hand, a stark counterpoint to the sterile corporate power the desk represents.

You hold them up as city lights glint through the delicate weave. One woman’s submission etched into mahogany. The other’s fierce claim a trophy in your pocket. Momo’s controlled intensity. Kazuha’s blazing adaptability. Both essential. Both devastating. Both paths leading to ruin.

The panties slip from your fingers, landing softly on the cold surface of the desk beside the Henderson file. A silent accusation. A symbol of the impossible choice. You stare at them, then at the sprawling, indifferent city beyond the glass.

Your heart isn't just at a crossroads; it feels shredded, pulled apart by the competing forces of desire, guilt, professional necessity, and the chilling echo of your father's ultimatum. The mahogany desk, the lace on its surface, the city lights—they all blur. You lean back into your chair, the eerie silence amplifying the frantic, solitary pounding within your ribs.

Two days. Two brilliant, terrifying women. One promotion. One dismissal.

And you, trapped in the wreckage of your own making, have absolutely no idea which way to turn.

—————

Your alarm greets you incessantly in the morning.

Slamming a clenched fist on the top button, you render it quiet. Moving by instinct, your hand grips on the clock, clawing it from the bedside desk over to your half-glazed retinas. As you check for the time, they snap wide open in a panic. A crushing realization jumpstarts your day.

You’re catastrophically late. It’s already 8:42 AM.

At such a crucial time as this, right as the doomsday clock ticks ever closer, barely over a day from judgment, your absence might as well ring the death knell to your position in the company. Especially as a newly appointed head. The image of your employees, Momo and Kazuha especially, waiting in that sterile 18th floor hive, expecting their newly minted Director—it curdles your stomach.

You try to surge upright, a desperate lunge for dignity. Instead, your body rebels. Like moving through wet concrete.

A wave of weakness crashes over you, leaving you gasping, slumped back against sweat-damp pillows. Every muscle screams—a deep, pervasive ache that feels suspiciously like the aftermath of being thoroughly used by both a relentless pragmatist and a fiery challenger within the span of 24 hours. But it’s more than that: heat radiates from your core, your skin feels tight and oversensitive, and your head pounds with a sickening rhythm that echoes the frantic ticking of your father’s deadline.

Stress. Overthinking. The half-remembered haze of emptying your father's ridiculously expensive cognac decanter last night in a futile attempt to drown the impossible choice. Probably all of the fucking above, your fevered brain supplies. The universe, it seems, has intervened with brutal efficiency, grounding you.

Your phone, discarded on the rumpled duvet, erupts. Not a ring, but a frantic, restless buzzing vibration that rattles against the mattress. You drag it closer, the screen painfully bright and blinding.

> MM (08:15): Director. Your 8:30 Strategy Sync is assembled in Conference Room B. Awaiting your arrival.

> MM (08:30): Director? Status update required.

> KZH (08:32): Boss? Everything okay? You're never late for the Sync. Miyawaki-san is looking twitchy.

> MM (08:40): Director. Please advise. Henderson finalization call with Legal is scheduled for 9:15. Requires your pre-brief.

> KZH (08:41): Seriously, boss. Where are you? Did you finally snap and flee the country? (kidding— mostly)

> MM (08:42): Kazuha, maintain professionalism. Director, your presence is critical.

The messages scroll like accusations. Professional concern from Momo, laced with that unsettling, inferred awareness you know she possesses. Kazuha’s slightly irreverent worry, masking her own fierce curiosity. The weight of their expectations, their competition, their bodies pressing down on you, even when they’re not around, feels suffocating.

You fumble with the phone, thumbs clumsy and heavy, eventually typing a single, shaky message, copying both:

> Severe illness. Cannot come in. Handle all agendas as discussed yesterday. Prioritize Henderson finalization. Momo, lead Legal call. Kazuha, manage Miyawaki logistics fallout. Operate as normal. Do not disturb.

You hit send before you can second-guess the curtness. The silence that follows is brief, then the replies chime almost simultaneously.

> MM: Understood, Director. Focus on recovery. We will manage operations efficiently. Henderson will be finalized per your directives. Rest well.

> KZH: Oh no! Get well soon, boss!! 😷 Don’t worry about a thing, we’ve got this! Stay hydrated! Sleep!

A flicker of something almost like relief warms you for a microsecond. They’ll handle it. They always do. But then, the follow-ups arrive, puncturing the fragile calm:

> MM: A reminder: The 72-hour window for your decision regarding the Executive Assistant position closes tomorrow EOD. Utilize today for necessary—contemplation.

The pause before contemplation screams volumes. Momo knows. She knows exactly the kind of contemplation yesterday involved, at least where she’s concerned.

> KZH: Yeah, what Momo-san said! Feel better fast! Big day tomorrow!! Maybe dream about org charts instead of—well, you know. 😉 Rest up!

Kazuha’s emoji is a playful dagger. Dream productively, she might as well have said. Think beyond the feel of my thighs locking around your head or Momo-san’s perfect tits in your hands.

The reminder of the deadline, delivered with faux cheer and sharp insight, lands like a physical blow. Tomorrow. You have to choose. Fire one. Promote the other. After—everything.

The phone falls from your limp hand, thudding softly on the duvet. The silence of the bedroom is absolute now, save for your own ragged breathing and the restless drumming of your pulse in your ears. Weakness pins you to the bed. The fever paints lurid pictures of yesterday behind your closed eyelids: Momo, back arched against cold mahogany, control shattering into breathless pleas; Kazuha, demanding parity with fierce, analytical eyes, her body a clandestine blade claiming its due in the sterile penthouse light. The scent of expensive perfume and sex and desperation seems to cling to the sheets.

Guilt, thick and corrosive, mixes with the physical misery. It’s a constant devil on your shoulder. A monument of your transgressions. You exploited Momo’s unraveling. You succumbed to Kazuha’s strategic blackmail. You betrayed the very professionalism your position demands. And now, when you need clarity, when you desperately need to think, your body has staged a mutiny.

The universe isn’t merely intervening; it’s laughing. After all, actions have consequences.

A fresh wave of chills wracks you, pulling a groan from your cracked lips. You curl onto your side, seeking a cool spot on the pillow. The room tilts slightly. Dad’s voice, dry and devoid of warmth, echoes in the hollow space your fever has carved out in your mind, his silhouette forming on the bedroom walls, coming to life:

"Sentiment is inefficient. Choose."

Impossible, like you said. How do you choose between Momo’s terrifyingly efficient surrender and Kazuha’s brilliantly demanding triumph. Between the cool, controlled depths and the blazing, adaptive fire. Both paths lead to destruction. Both choices feel like a betrayal—of them, of yourself, of any semblance of integrity left in this corporate prison.

The only thing clear is the crushing weight pressing you down: the fever burning through your veins, the ache in muscles used and abused, the phantom taste of two very different women—and the cold, immutable fact that tomorrow, sick or not, broken or not, you must decide. And right now, trapped in the wreckage of your own making, limp and aching and utterly alone, you have absolutely no idea which lane leads to a lesser hell.

The silence of the room offers no answers, only the echo of that single, devastating word: Choose.

—————

You’re already at your office early the next day. Early enough to watch the sun rise over the slowly waking city.

After the hell you’ve slept in that was yesterday, your fingers twitch uncontrollably, a seeming unwillingness to pull the mandated trigger. You’re not feeling any better, at least mentally and emotionally. The night kept you restless. Your brain stormed through countless possible outcomes despite the linearity and simpleness of the decision.

Aside from the HVAC, your heavy, deep breaths fill the otherwise silent room. Making this decision proves to be harder than any report, document, or interview you’ve ever done. One way or another, there will be a fallout, a domino effect, a snowball of consequences, both in the short and long term.

As said time and time again, Momo and Kazuha are irreplaceable. There’s no getting around it. You may eventually find a replacement, a body that can hopefully fill in the gaps that will be lost when the other leaves, but they’re one in a million. A synergistic pairing that simply can’t be replicated, authentically or algorithmically.

Closing your eyes, keeping your thoughts sharp and precise, empty of any meaningless, superficial thought. It’s the chime of the elevator snapping them open, followed by the echo of the heavy oak door.

“Good morning, boss,” Momo greets you curtly, to the point. “Today’s the big day. I hope the time off gave you the clarity you needed to make your decision.”

“Morning, boss!” Kazuha follows, brimming with life, as per usual. Already holding your double espresso coffee in hand, made specifically catered to your preference. “I hope you’re feeling better now.”

You certainly are, somewhat. Their steady presence is infectious; you can’t imagine a day without them together.

“Before we get to today’s agendas,” you tell them, swiveling your chair from the city to them, standing in front of you, “Please take a seat. Both of you.”

The two women follow, taking opposing guest chairs, separated from you by your desk. Momo sits upright, avoiding contact with her seat, hands quietly folded, whereas Kazuha leans back, one leg over the other, placing the freshly brewed coffee on the table.

“What seems to be your concern, director?” asks Momo, narrowing her eyebrows, her gaze deep, focused.

“Something wrong?” Kazuha adds, analytical, searching for key points in your body language and expression, looking increasingly concerned.

Prolonged silence stretches, taut as a piano wire after their worried inquiries. Momo’s ramrod posture radiates coiled tension; Kazuha’s forced cheerfulness can’t mask the wary calculation in her eyes.

You lean back in the obscenely expensive ergonomic chair; the leather groans softly, your fingers steepled before your lips. The scent of Kazuha’s fresh espresso mingles uneasily with the phantom traces of Momo’s floral-spicy perfume and something muskier, deeper—the ghosts of Tuesday’s transgressions clinging to the mahogany. But that’s not important right now.

"Like I said, before we address today’s agendas," you begin, carefully neutral, scraping against the oppressive quiet, "there’s a procedural matter I must perform."

You meet each of their gazes in turn: Momo’s dark, unreadable pools. Kazuha’s bright, analytical scrutiny. "Effective immediately, we will be conducting impromptu exit interviews."

The declaration lands like bombs. The air sparks, thick enough to choke on. Momo doesn’t flinch, but the knuckles of her clasped hands go bone-white. Kazuha’s leg stops bouncing, frozen mid-air. Her smile vanishes, replaced by a veil of icy shock.

"Exit interviews?" Kazuha echoes, her voice higher than usual, brittle. "Director, I—"

"Policy," you cut in, the word a cold, efficient knife. Your father’s ghost seems to loom over your shoulder, whispering the same tired statement: sentiment is inefficient.

"Standard procedure during restructuring periods. Consider it—a formality. A necessary step."

The lie tastes sour in your mouth.

“Only one question. Please answer honestly." You pause, letting the suffocating dread linger, watching their carefully constructed professional armors tremble at the foundations. "Reflecting on your time working here, under my supervision—what are your thoughts?"

The silence that follows is absolute, deafening. The HVAC hums like a deranged insect. Momo is the first to break it. She draws a slow, deliberate breath, her gaze fixed on a point just past your shoulder, her voice low but astonishingly steady. It lacks its usual polished smoothness; it’s raw, scraped clean.

"Honestly, Director?" she starts. The corporate veneer cracks, revealing the woman beneath—the one who unraveled on your desk, the one whose control shattered into breathless pleas. "Before—recent developments—" A faint flush creeps up her neck. "You were—different. From the others. From your father."

She meets your eyes, and their intensity is frightening. "You saw us. Not as assets. Not just cogs. You shielded us from the worst of the corporate savagery. Cancelled unnecessary overtime. Fought back against unreasonable demands from upstairs, even when it put you at risk." Her voice drops to a near whisper. "You treated us with kindness. Consideration. Respect. Graciousness, even, when we knew you carried burdens we couldn’t fathom."

She swallows hard. "Working for you, it was more than a job. It felt like—a partnership. A rarity in this business. That you would fight to keep both of us, against impossible orders—" Her voice finally wavers, thick with emotion she ruthlessly tries to suppress. "It speaks volumes about the man you are. Or—the man you try to be. Despite everything, I have no regrets. None."

Her words hang, stark and powerful, cutting through the sterile air. The confession of respect, the acknowledgment of the kindnesses you thought went unnoticed—it lands like a sharp blow, far heavier than any accusation. You see the echo of vulnerability in her eyes, the same look she had buttoning her blouse back together.

Kazuha shifts in her chair. The shock has morphed into something stronger, brighter. Her gaze burns into you. "Momo-san’s right," she states, regaining her unmistakable energy, but stripped of its usual playful edge. It’s pure, passionate honesty. "You were different. Are different. Not only did you avoid delegating the grunt work; you trusted us with real responsibility. You listened. Actually listened to our ideas, even the crazy ones."

A shade of her trademark smile touches her lips, fleeting and poignant. "You made this soul-crushing tower feel—human, sometimes. And yeah, the circumstances forcing one of us out are absolute bullshit. Extraordinary doesn’t even cover it. But the fact you’re even trying to fight it? That you’d risk your own neck for us?"

She leans forward, her eyes lit with a fiery glow. "That tells us everything, boss. How much you actually cherish what we built here. Together. All three of us." She holds your gaze, her countenance steadfast. "No regrets. Not a single one. Even—" She glances almost imperceptibly towards the desk, then back to you, a complex mix of defiance and something softer in her eyes. "Even with everything else. The core of it? That respect, that kindness? That was real. That’s what matters. So thank you. Thank you for being a great leader to us."

Their words resonate in the hollow space of the office, a counterpoint to the cold hum of machinery and your father’s relentless choose, choose, choose. The guilt you’ve carried—for exploiting Momo’s surrender, for succumbing to Kazuha’s demand—twists deeper, tangled now with a profound, aching gratitude. They saw the flicker of humanity you tried to maintain amidst the madness. They valued it. They’re telling you they cherished it, even now, facing the axe.

The suffocating dread fades, replaced by a surge of fierce, protective resolve. You push back from the desk, the motion decisive.

"Okay." The single word rings heavy with finality and newfound purpose. "Policy be damned. Sentiment be damned."

A faint, determined smile touches your lips, the first genuine one in days. "My father wants streamlined efficiency? Fine. We’ll give him efficiency. But we’ll redefine it."

Both women straighten, their postures snapping from resignation to alert readiness. Their competitive fire hasn’t vanished—it simmers beneath the surface, redirected.

"You," you point to Momo, then Kazuha. "And you. Together. Your task: Create a proposal. Not for him to choose one of you."

Leaning forward, your gaze sweeps between them, capturing their fierce intelligence, their complementary strengths. The synergy that claimed this building as yours. "Make the strongest, most irrefutable argument for why he cannot afford to lose either of you. Why this 'streamlining' is catastrophic inefficiency disguised as cost-cutting. Why this pairing," you gesture between them, a finger deliberately pointed at each woman, "isn't just valuable, but irreplaceable. Synergy quantified. Impact measured. The cost of replacement—not just monetary, but in lost momentum, institutional knowledge, catastrophic risk. Make it bulletproof. Make it undeniable. Make him understand that letting one go isn't saving money; it's self-destructing the foundation of East Asian operations right before he leaves it to sink or swim."

A spark ignites in Momo’s eyes—the strategist presented with the ultimate challenge. Kazuha’s grin returns, wide and predatory, aglow with the thrill of the impossible pitch. The air crackles again, but differently now. Not with dread or competition, but with singular, collaborative energy.

"Consider it done, Director," Momo states, her voice regaining its terrifying, precise efficiency. She’s already pulling out her tablet, fingers flying.

"Bulletproof? Undeniable?" Kazuha chirps, grabbing her own sleek device, her eyes already scanning invisible data streams. "Challenge accepted. We’ll make him wish he’d thought of it himself."

She winks, the gesture devoid of flirtation, brimming with cutthroat zeal aimed squarely at the absent CEO. "Where do we work?"

"Right here," you say, motioning to the expanse of your desk—the site of both corporate tedium and devastating intimacy. "Use whatever you need. Access all files, all metrics. I want a draft before lunch."

They don't need telling twice. In moments, the mahogany desk transforms. Momo’s tablet displays complex organizational charts, efficiency metrics, risk assessment frameworks. Kazuha projects market analysis, client retention data, timelines highlighting interdependencies. Their voices, once clashing in competitive yapping and immoral seduction, now weave together in a low, intense symphony of collaboration.

—————

The air in your office crackles, thick with the chill from the large video screen and the lingering ghosts of desperation. Dad’s face dominates the display, sharper and colder than the Seoul skyline behind him. His New York office backdrop is a void of empty darkness and indifferent buildings. His eyes, chips of glacial ice, sweep over the three of you standing rigidly before your own camera: you flanked by Momo and Kazuha, a united front forged in the crucible of the impossible.

Silence. Thick, heavy, oppressive. Dad’s expression remains granite. No flicker. No twitch. The only sound is the low hum of the climate control and the relentless beating of your own heart against your chest. You feel Kazuha’s subtle shift of weight beside you, as well as Momo’s unnerving stillness.

This was the hail mary. The one-in-a-billion shot.

Dad’s gaze drifts from the screen displaying Davies’ praise back to the three of you. It lingers. A fraction of a second longer than usual. Then, a slow, deliberate blink. His lips, thin and bloodless, part.

"Commendable," he remarks, the word dry but lacking its usual razor edge. "The level of detail. The quantification of impact." He pauses, fixing his steely eyes on you. "Davies spoke highly of the presentation. Exceptionally so. He mentioned Miss Nakamura’s articulation specifically. That carries weight."

Another pause, stretching the silence taut. You feel Momo’s knuckles brush against yours behind the cover of the desk—a fleeting, electric contact of shared, desperate hope.

"The policy," Dad continues, his voice regaining its ironclad edge, "mandates streamlining. A single chain of command." He leans fractionally closer to his camera, his face filling your screen, the lines around his eyes deepening. "But policy serves the bottom line. Sentiment is inefficient. Catastrophic inefficiency, however, as you've quantified, is unacceptable."

The decision, when it comes, is delivered with brutal simplicity. He straightens, taking a prolonged glance at each woman.

"The proposal is accepted. Miss Hirai Momo and Nakamura Kazuha: you are both promoted to Executive Assistant, reporting directly to the Regional Director, effective immediately. Your compensation will be adjusted accordingly. Consolidate your functions as outlined. Ensure the projected losses do not materialize."

Relief hits you like a physical wave. Intense enough to buckle your knees. Momo’s breath escapes in a near-silent sigh beside you. Kazuha’s shoulders, held rigid, drop a fraction of an inch.

"Son," Dad’s gaze shifts back to you, pinning you in place. "This level of strategic pushback—it’s a step. A necessary one." The faintest hint of something—not warmth, but perhaps grudging acknowledgment—flickers in his icy eyes. "You have a long way to go. The CEO chair demands more than protecting assets, however irreplaceable. It demands vision beyond sentiment and beyond mere survival. Remember that. Otherwise, you have made quite the first impression in your new position, with what little time you have been given so far. You have potential."

His gaze sweeps over all three of you one final time. "Do not squander this opportunity. Report progress weekly. Directly."

The screen goes abruptly dark. The oppressive silence of the call is replaced by the stunned, heavy calm of your office. The hum of the HVAC is suddenly deafening.

For three heartbeats, no one moves. The professional facades—Momo’s icy control, Kazuha’s bright energy, your own weary directorship—hang suspended, fragile as glass.

Then, Kazuha lets out a choked sound, half-laugh, half-sob, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes are wide, shimmering with unshed tears of sheer, disbelieving relief. She voices out your collective thought: "We—we did it?"

Momo turns slowly. Her usual impassive mask breaks. Raw emotion floods her face—profound relief, exhaustion, and something vehemently proud.

"We did," she confirms, trembling slightly. Her gaze meets yours, then Kazuha’s. A single tear escapes, tracing a path through her perfectly applied makeup before she swiftly brushes it away, a gesture more of habit than shame.

The crushing weight of the past days—the dread, the guilt, the impossible choice, the feverish pitch of their competition and the devastating intimacy it spawned—it all disappears in an instant. In its place, a surge of pure, unadulterated pride fills your chest. You look at them: Momo, slightly flushed, her composure regained but her eyes still bright; Kazuha, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, radiating exhilarated energy.

"This," you manage, rough with charged emotion, clearing your throat. "This is your finest work, bar none. Henderson, Davies—they were impressive. But this—" You gesture at the space where Dad’s face had been, then sweep your hand to encompass the three of you. "This was masterful. Irrefutable. You saved yourselves. You saved us."

Kazuha beams, the force of it lighting up the room. "Team effort, boss! Couldn't have done it without Momo-san's terrifying spreadsheets and your—well, your neck on the line!"

Momo inclines her head, a genuine, if small, smile touching her lips. "The core argument stemmed from demonstrable truth, Director. Our synergy is the efficiency." She pauses, then adds, softer, "And your willingness to defy policy made presenting it possible."

The shared victory, the palpable relief, hangs in the air, thick and sweet. Pent-up tension fades away, leaving a buzzing energy in its wake.

"So," Kazuha chirps, her eyes gleaming with mischief now that the immediate threat is gone. "Promotion calls for celebration, right? Like, serious celebration.” Already has some ideas in mind, as predicted. “Champagne? Kobe beef? That ridiculously expensive place with the view?"

Momo nods, her smile widening a fraction. "An appropriate acknowledgment of the achievement. And the avoidance of catastrophic loss."

Your own weariness is momentarily forgotten, replaced by a giddy lightness. "Done. Finest dinner in Seoul. Bill’s on me. Consider it hazard pay for surviving the last 72 hours." You gesture expansively. "Name the place. Tonight."

Kazuha and Momo exchange a look—a silent, complex communication that passes between them, forged in competition, solidified in collaboration, and now—something else. Something dangerous. Kazuha’s grin turns wicked, predatory. Momo’s eyes hold a dark, knowing glint as she meets your gaze directly, her professional armor fully shed.

"Oh, we’ll pick the place, Director," Kazuha purrs, stepping closer, her voice dropping to an intimate murmur. She reaches out, not for a handshake, but to gently straighten your already perfectly aligned tie, her fingers lingering near the collar. "Somewhere—discreet. Somewhere with an excellent private room."

Momo moves to your other side, her presence a warm, solid pressure. Her hand rests lightly on your forearm, a touch that sends a familiar jolt through you, echoing Tuesday morning’s intensity but devoid of its desperate edge. Her voice, when she speaks, is a low, velvet promise that resonates deep in your bones. "And we fully intend," she adds, her dark eyes holding yours with unnerving intensity, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips, "to share far more than just the food tonight."

Their combined gaze—Kazuha’s playful challenge, Momo’s smoldering promise—pins you in place. The air crackles anew, not with corporate tension or competitive fire, but with the electric hum of anticipation, intimacy, and the uncharted territory of a hard-won victory and a celebration promised to be anything but professional. The mahogany desk, witness to so much, seems to hold its breath.

The game has changed. Irrevocably. And the night ahead promises to be the most perilous, exhilarating performance review yet.

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! This is what happens when you get carried away with a story and have all the free time in the world. Longest fic by an ungodly margin, please God don't do this to me again. Editing is fucking hard. lol. The prompt was pretty good, thought the unique element of having a privileged son and a senior/junior dynamic that ultimately went off the rails. Again, I definitely focused way too much on the plot, it was too good not to. Thank you for reading!)

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elvhensinner · 17 days ago

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Karina GF Fake Texts

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elvhensinner · 17 days ago

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Leaked ( Lia x Male OC ft. Male Reader )

tags : angst smut

The bass thumped through the walls of the house, setting the rhythm for the night. The party was in full swing, a sea of bodies moving in sync with the music, laughter punctuating the air like popcorn in a microwave. You and Lia walked in, hand in hand, the warm glow of the lights reflecting off her brown hair. She looked stunning in her little crop top and skirt, the kind that made your heart stumble every time she turned to smile at you.

As you both made your way through the crowd, you couldn't help but notice the glances that lingered on Lia. At first, it was just a few – the occasional side-eye from a guy who thought he was being slick. But as the night went on, the frequency of the looks grew. It was like they had radars tuned to her beauty, their eyes drawn to her like moths to a flame. Each gaze was a tiny dart, pricking at your skin, a not-so-subtle reminder of the nude photos that had once circulated like wildfire. But Lia remained unfazed, her smile never wavering, her eyes only for you.

The leak had been a hurricane, ripping through your lives without warning. For weeks, Lia had been a prisoner in her own home, the weight of embarrassment and fear heavy on her shoulders. You had stood by her side, a rock amidst the storm, holding her tight when the tears came and the cruel messages flooded in. The digital world had feasted on her vulnerability, but she had emerged stronger, more determined to live her life without letting it define her.

The intimate photos, once just a treasure shared between the two of you, had been sent to you during a time when she had been feeling particularly adventurous. They were a declaration of her love, her trust in you. They had captured moments of passion and playfulness, her bare skin bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Her eyes had sparkled with mischief, her smile brimming with affection. Those images had been a secret language only you two knew, a silent whisper of love that no one else could ever understand.

Now, as you watched her navigate the party with grace, you felt a surge of protectiveness. You knew the strength it had taken for her to come out tonight, to face the world again, especially after the storm. She had picked herself up, dusted off the dirt thrown at her, and stepped back into the limelight. Her confidence was palpable, a force field around her that seemed to say, "You can look, but you can't touch." The leaked photos had become a badge of resilience rather than a scarlet letter.

The drinks flowed freely, and as the night grew heavier, so did the laughter. The alcohol loosened your grip on the tension that had been coiled in your chest since the leak. You downed a shot of whiskey, the burn spreading through your body like warm honey, chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt and anger. Lia's eyes sparkled as she sipped on her fruity cocktail, the sweetness of it making her cheeks flush. The room grew warmer, the air thick with the scent of perfume and the promise of fun.

Her friend, Yuna, a fiery redhead with a penchant for mischief, pulled Lia into a dance circle that had formed in the living room. Yuna's laughter was infectious, and soon Lia's shyness melted away as she swayed to the music, her hips moving in a way that made you ache.

As the party swirled around you, you found yourself drifting towards the couch, the plush cushions beckoning like a warm embrace. You sank into it, watching Lia from the sidelines, your eyes growing heavier with each beat of the bass. The whiskey had done its job, the edges of the room blurring slightly, the lights above spinning like disco balls in a slow dance with your vision. Before you knew it, your eyes were closed, and the party sounds faded into a distant symphony of whispers and music.

Lia noticed your peaceful slumber, moved to you and kissed you gently on the forehead before retreating into the throbbing heart of the party. She danced with an energy that was both mesmerizing and liberating, her movements as fluid as the drinks being passed around. Each sway of her hips and toss of her hair was a silent declaration of her freedom, a dance of defiance in the face of the prying eyes that had once brought her so much pain. Her laughter, mingled with the music, was a sweet melody that filled the room, a testament to her resilience.

As the night grew darker and the music louder, more guys started to gravitate towards their circle, drawn by Lia's magnetic allure. They danced with an unspoken competition, vying for her attention. Each one tried to outdo the other with their moves, their eyes never leaving her body.

Lia, feeling the effects of the drinks, didn't think much of it. She was in her element, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming with tipsy excitement. The whispers and glances of the past few months had made her feel like she was wearing a neon sign, but tonight she was determined to reclaim her power. She danced freely, her inhibitions lowered by the sweet embrace of the alcohol. Her movements were bold, each step a declaration of her right to enjoy herself without judgment.

But as the night grew denser, one of the guys grew bolder. His hands started to wander, first grazing her hips, then sliding up her back, and finally resting on the small of her waist. She felt a shiver run down her spine, a ghostly echo of the unwanted touches from the past. Her smile remained in place, a mask that had become second nature, even as she felt her heart race with a mix of excitement and unease. She didn't pull away, not yet. Instead, she allowed the music to swallow her whole, letting the beat of the bass pound out the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

The guy behind her grew more insistent, his grip tightening, his crotch pressing against her. The warmth of his arousal seeped through her skirt, and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks, hot as a summer sunset. The whiskey had loosened her up, the room spinning around her like a carousel. She told herself it was just the music, the heat of the bodies surrounding her, but deep down, she knew it was the thrill of his desire. The line between innocent fun and uncomfortable attention grew thinner with each pulse of the music.

Glancing over her shoulder, she searched for you through the kaleidoscope of colors and faces, her eyes landing on your peaceful form sprawled on the couch. You were oblivious to the world, lost in a whiskey-induced slumber, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that she found oddly comforting. The room tilted again, and she took a deep breath, her heart hammering in her chest like a drummer in a death metal band.

The guy behind her leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear, "You're the one, aren't you?" he whispered, his hand inching lower, his voice thick with inebriation and something else – malice or curiosity, she wasn't quite sure. "The chick who had her nudes plastered all over the internet." His words were a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the digital nightmare she had endured. For a moment, the music faded, the laughter a distant echo, and all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

Without breaking the rhythm of her dance, she turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with a fiery determination. "Yeah, that's me," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. She felt his grip tighten, pulling her closer, his body pressing against hers like an unwelcome embrace. "I jacked off to those pics way too many times," he slurred, his grin lecherous and knowing. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a reminder that no matter how much she had moved on, she could never truly escape the shadow..

Her heart racing, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "Then you must have really loved them," she said, her sarcasm thick as honey. His eyes widened, his grin faltering just a fraction. She could feel the tension in the air, the moment teetering on a knife's edge. But she wasn't about to let him think he had won. She had faced the storm, had her share of battles, and she wasn't going to let some drunken jerk take away her night.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot and sticky with alcohol, "Want to make some new memories?" His hand slithered down to her ass, squeezing with a force that made her teeth clench. She felt the room spin around her, the music growing louder, more oppressive. The line had been crossed, and she knew it was time to take control.

Turning to face him fully, she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. "I appreciate the offer," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness that could cut through steel, "but I've got a boyfriend." She gestured towards you, still passed out on the couch. "And he's right over there." The guy's smile didn't falter, his eyes still gleaming with lust. "He's asleep," he pointed out, his voice low and suggestive. "Won't even know you're gone."

The room grew hotter, the air thick with the scent of desire and desperation. His hand slid down from her ass, tracing the inner thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the wetness that had been building up during their dance. She could feel his intentions, raw and unfiltered. A part of her was scared, but a bigger part was angry – angry that she had to deal with this, that she couldn't just enjoy herself without someone trying to claim a piece of her.

His eyes searched hers, looking for an invitation that wasn't there. The hand on her thigh moved lower, grazing the soft fabric of her panties, his thumb pressing against the dampness that had soaked through. She felt a shiver, a mix of fear and excitement, the whiskey playing tricks on her judgment.

"I just want to talk," he said, his voice a sickly sweet lie that stuck to her like syrup. She glanced over her shoulder at you, still lost in sleep on the couch. For a brief moment, she considered walking away, leaving him behind in the sea of partygoers. But something in his eyes – a desperation, a hunger – made her hesitate. Maybe talking would be the key to making him understand, to putting him in his place.

With a nod, she allowed him to lead her through the writhing mass of bodies, the music a dull throb in her ears. They stumbled into the bathroom, the harsh light a stark contrast to the warm glow of the party. She leaned against the sink, watching him in the mirror as he fumbled with the lock. His reflection was a twisted caricature, his smile more of a leer than anything friendly. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever conversation was about to unfold.

"You were so fucking hot in those photos," he said, stepping closer. His voice was gruff with lust, his eyes never leaving her reflection. He was tall, towering over her, and she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. The smell of whiskey on his breath was overpowering, making her stomach turn. She felt his hand on her hip, his fingers digging in just enough to make her aware of his presence. "I couldn't believe it was you when I saw them," he continued, his voice thick with admiration and something else – a hint of possessiveness.

Her heart was racing now, the thrill of the dance replaced with a cold dread that was spreading through her body like a disease. She told herself she could handle this, that she was in control. "Thanks," she said, her voice cool and detached, "but as I said, I'm not interested." She tried to move away, but he followed her, his hand moving up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple through the fabric of her top.

The touch was electric, sending a jolt of fear through her body, but also something else – a spark of arousal. It was confusing, a mix of emotions she didn't want to feel. She pushed his hand away firmly, "I'm serious. I just want to dance." His eyes narrowed, his smile slipping. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her neck, "You liked the attention before," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "Why stop now?"

Lia's heart hammered in her chest, the walls closing in around her. She could feel the anger building up, a volcano ready to erupt. Her eyes flashing with a fierce determination, "I don't owe you anything," she said, her voice firm. "What I do with my body, what I share with my boyfriend – that's my choice."

The guy's grip tightened around her, his eyes glazed over with desire. He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, trapping her between him and the sink. His hands began to roam more aggressively, one sliding up to cradle her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple, the other slipping under her skirt to caress the softness of her thigh. She could feel the heat of his arousal through his pants, a stark contrast to the cold sweat that had broken out on her forehead.

Lia's mind raced, trying to find a way out of this situation without causing a scene. She knew she had to be smart, to not let him think she was just playing hard to get. "Please," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "I just want to go back to the party."

He chuckled, the sound grating against her eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. "You think you can just tease me like that and walk away?" His hand slid further up her thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the heat between her legs. Panic bubbled in her stomach, a toxic cocktail of fear and arousal.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to continue, her body tensing with each caress. Maybe if she just gave him what he wanted, he'd leave her alone. Maybe it was easier to endure this than to fight, to scream, to cause a scene. The whiskey had loosened her defenses, the room spinning with the weight of his touch.

He leaned in, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was more of a claim than a gesture of affection. His tongue pushed past her teeth, tasting of mint and whiskey, as his hands grew bolder. They explored her body with the entitlement of a conqueror, mapping out the curves and valleys like he owned them. She kissed him back, her hands moving to his shoulders, not pushing him away but holding on, as if to keep the world at bay.

The music outside the bathroom was a distant throb, the only other sound the muffled laughter and the occasional shout of someone passing by, oblivious to the drama unfolding behind the locked door. Lia's heart was racing, but she didn't fight, didn't struggle. It was as if she had resigned herself to this moment, her body moving almost on autopilot.

His hand slid further up her skirt, his fingertips grazing the wet fabric of her panties. She felt his knuckles brush against the sensitive flesh, and she gasped into his mouth. The taste of whiskey was strong, a bitter reminder of the power he held over her.

In the mirror, she saw the reflection of someone she didn't recognize, someone who was letting this happen. But she also saw the fear in her own eyes, the desperation to keep the peace, to not let the past dictate her future.

With a heavy heart, she gave in. He unbuckled his pants, and she dropped to her knees, her mouth watering with a mix of dread and anticipation. The room spun around her, the smell of alcohol and sweat mixing with the sickly sweet scent of his cologne. She took him in her mouth, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her movements. It was mechanical, almost robotic, as she tried to ignore the part of her that was responding to his touch. She focused on the feeling of power, the knowledge that she was in control, that she was choosing this path.

The taste of him was bitter, but she didn't pull away. She took him deeper, her tongue swirling around his length as if she enjoyed it, as if she weren't just going through the motions. His moans grew louder, his breath coming in harsh pants as she worked him with a practiced ease that belied her inebriated state. His hands tightened in her hair, and she felt a twinge of pain, but she didn't flinch. This was what he wanted, what he thought he deserved, and she was going to give it to him.

As she bobbed her head, the room spun faster, the music from outside the bathroom a muffled roar that seemed to echo in her ears. His grip grew more insistent, his hips thrusting forward, pushing her further down until she could feel the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged, but he didn't stop, didn't even seem to notice. He was lost in his own pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut, his face a mask of concentration.

Her jaw ached, her knees complained against the cold tile floor, but she didn't stop. Her hands roamed over his thighs, her nails digging in just enough to leave marks, to make him aware of her presence, of the power she still held. His touch grew bolder, his hands roaming her body like he had every right to, as if she was his to take. She felt his fingers slide under her top, cupping her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her nipples until they stood at attention. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made her head spin even more.

The hand in her hair grew rougher, his hips moving faster as he pushed her further down. She could feel him getting closer, his breath hitching in his chest. He groaned, his grip tightening, and she knew he was about to come. The thought of it, the power she had over him, made her own body respond, a wetness pooling between her legs. It was a strange dance of control and submission, a tango played out in the harsh light of the bathroom mirror.

As he reached his climax, she took him in, swallowing the salty taste with a practiced ease that made him grunt in satisfaction. His body shuddered, his hands going slack in her hair. He pulled out, panting, his eyes wide with a mix of lust and surprise. He had gotten what he wanted, and she had given it to him, but the power was still in her grasp.

He leaned against the sink, his chest heaving as he tucked himself back into his pants. Lia took a moment to compose herself, straightening her skirt and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She could feel the wetness of her own arousal, a traitorous response to his touch, and she was both disgusted and thrilled by it.

He reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek with a tenderness that seemed out of place in the harsh bathroom light. "You're so fucking hot," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. She didn't pull away, didn't flinch. Instead, she looked him in the eye, a silent challenge.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest. He searched her eyes, as if looking for the answer in the depths of her soul. "I just want to fuck you," he said, his voice raw with need. She could see the desire in his eyes, the desperation that had driven him to this point.

For a moment, she considered it. His hands were still on her body, his touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She could feel the ache between her legs, the throb of her own desire. It was tempting, the thought of letting go, of giving in to the passion that had been simmering just below the surface all night. But then she thought of you, of the promise you two had made to each other, and she knew she couldn't do it.

"No," she said firmly, pushing him away. He stumbled back, surprise etching lines on his face. "What?" he asked, his voice thick with confusion. "Why not?"

"Because I have a boyfriend," she said, her voice clear and unwavering. "And I respect myself too much to let you do this." His expression changed, the hunger in his eyes morphing into something darker, more dangerous. "You're just playing hard to get," he growled, stepping closer. "I know you want it."

He reached for her again, his hands rough and insistent. She stepped back, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her resolve. "Please," she said, her voice a whisper that seemed to echo in the small space, "just leave me alone." But he didn't listen. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for her again.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Why would you deny us both what we want?" His voice was persuasive, a siren's call that threatened to lure her into his web. She felt the temptation, the heat of his words wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

But she remained strong, pushing his hand away. "I'm not playing games," she said, her voice firm. "I don't want this." His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of weakness, any crack in the armor she had built around herself.

He stepped closer, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her into his body. "You're just scared," he said, his voice a seductive purr. "But I'll make it good for you, I promise." His other hand slid up her skirt, his fingertips brushing against the wetness of her panties. She gasped, her body betraying her despite her protests.

The room swam around her, the alcohol making her head spin. His touch was intoxicating, his scent of sweat and cologne overwhelming. She felt a part of her giving in, the wall she had built around herself crumbling under the weight of his desire. His hand slipped under her panties, his fingers sliding through the slickness, and she couldn't help but arch into his touch.

"See," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck, "you do want it." His mouth found her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Just let go." His voice was a siren's call, a whisper in the dark that she couldn't resist. With a shaky sigh, she leaned into him, her hands sliding up his chest.

He kissed her again, his tongue pushing past her lips, his hands roaming her body with a newfound urgency. The taste of whiskey and mint filled her mouth, a heady concoction that seemed to fuel her own desire. His hand was between her legs now, his thumb rubbing slow circles around her clit as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

Her knees buckled, and she clung to him, the room spinning out of control. He kissed her deeper, his hand moving faster, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. The tension in her body grew, coiling like a snake ready to strike.

With a whimper, she gave in. "Okay," she breathed against his lips, her voice barely a whisper. "Okay." His eyes gleamed with victory, and he lifted her onto the sink, spreading her legs wide. She could feel the cold porcelain against her back, a stark contrast to the heat between her thighs.

He stepped between her legs, his cock standing proud and hard. He slid into her with a groan, his hips moving with a familiar rhythm that sent shockwaves through her body. She wrapped her legs around him, her nails digging into his back, urging him deeper. The fear was still there, a cold knot in her stomach, but it was buried under the weight of pleasure that was quickly building.

He fucked her hard, the sink rocking beneath their combined weight. She could feel her orgasm approaching, a crescendo that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She didn't want this, she didn't want him, but her body had a mind of its own, responding to his touch like it was the only thing that mattered.

Her moans filled the small room, echoing off the tiles as she gave herself over to the sensation. His hands were everywhere, his mouth on her neck, her breasts, her mouth. The world outside the bathroom faded away, leaving just the two of them in a haze of passion and desperation.

And as she came, the room spinning around her, she felt a strange mix of satisfaction and despair. She had given in, had let him take what he wanted, and now she was his. But she also knew that she had made a choice, that she had allowed this to happen. And with that knowledge, she felt a strange sense of power, a thrill that she couldn't quite put into words.

The guy groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own climax, his cock pulsing inside her. He leaned into her, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice filled with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine. But she didn't disagree. For tonight, in this moment, she was his. And she had made her peace with that.

The sound of the door opening made them both jump, the spell broken. The bathroom was suddenly too small, the air thick with the scent of sex and regret. She slid off the sink, her legs shaking as she tried to stand. He zipped up his pants, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You'll be back for more," he said, his voice filled with confidence.

Lia didn't bother to reply. She just opened the door, the music from the party crashing over her like a wave. She stumbled out into the sea of bodies, her heart racing, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She didn't look back, didn't acknowledge the guy as he followed her. She just focused on finding you, the one person she knew could anchor her in this storm.

399 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 18 days ago

Text

Happy Ending

A little something silly for our fantasy/ dnd lover fans

The barbarian paladin approached the Temple of Bovara with an injured gait that was more limp than strut. He was bruised, bloodied, and smelled like scorched leather and dragon breath. In short: it had been a week.

He needed healing. Maybe some holy milk despite the rumors . Possibly a divine intervention. But mostly—he needed her.

The temple doors loomed large, carved with sunbursts, sacred vines, and a suspicious number of lovingly detailed cow thighs. Diablos shoved them open with one massive hand and immediately inhaled the rich perfume of the place: roses, honey, and something thick and sweet that always clung to the back of his throat. Like cream. Or sin.

And there she was.

At the altar, a whirlwind in white and gold silk, her horns peeking through dark hair in two perfectly askew buns. The cleric was humming—humming—as she tried to stack jars of milk higher than seemed advisable. One fell. She caught it. Barely.

“Momo,” he said softly.

She turned, bright-eyed. Her whole face lit up like he was a birthday cake and she was two glasses of wine deep.

“Diablos!” she chirped. “Oh no—you look like you got stomped by a wyvern.”

“Elder dragon,” he muttered.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. You know I hate when you fight those.”

“You hate that I make you worry,” he rumbled.

“No, I hate that you keep ruining your hot dumb body.” She stalked over, hands immediately on his chest, glowing faintly. “Honestly, you need a leash.”

“I’m open to that,” he said, giving her a crooked grin. “But I thought your goddess was more into ropes.”

She flushed—hard—and smacked his chest with a glowing palm. “Inside. Now.”

He saluted and trudged into the private healing chamber, shedding weapons like a molting dragon. Axe, sword, rifle, hand cannon. She followed with a loud sigh, scooping up a small bomb he accidentally left on a pillow. “Why do you even have this?”

“Backup smiting,” he said, already shirtless.

The chamber was steamy, fragrant with rose milk and divine aphrodisiacs. Soft cushions lined the floor, and a mural of Bovara loomed over everything—bare, bountiful, and mid-moo.

Diablos tilted his head. “Why does your goddess always look like she’s halfway to climax?”

“Because she is,” Momo said sweetly, pulling off her robes like she was unwrapping a birthday present. Her body—lush, strong, and holy in the most profane ways—was barely contained by a golden bra and matching panties.

She straddled him without hesitation, glass of milk in one hand, glowing fingers already pressing to his side. “Drink.”

Despite the rumors he heard of tit turning people into horny Holstaurs against their will He took it and downed it in one go. Warm. Creamy. Definitely sacred. Maybe cursed. He didn’t care. If it turned him into a rutting bull man, well… Momo would take responsibility.

Probably.

He let out a long sigh as he laid back, his body groaning like an old cathedral. “I think I’m starting to understand the whole joy part of your religion.”

“You’ll feel very joyful soon,” she teased, her hands glowing as they trailed across his skin, lingering here, squeezing there. “Bovara’s blessings come with… side effects.”

“What like having a gorgeous woman massage you?”

“Among other things,” she murmured, tracing a wound with her thumb and leaning over him. “This one’s nasty.”

“So’s my crush on you.”

She snorted—actually snorted—before slapping his chest again. “You are the worst.”

“You say that,” he whispered, “but your eyes say otherwise.”

She flushed again, lips twitching.

“Do you want kiss me better?” he asked.

“I have to,” she said solemnly. “It’s divine doctrine. Holiness by osmosis.”

Their eyes locked. A long beat.

Then she leaned in, pressing her lips softly to his chest. “Blessed be,” she whispered, and watched as the wound mended under the glowing light.

Diablos sighed again, this time much deeper. His breathing slowed, the tension finally bleeding out of him under her touch. Her magic pulsed warm and steady, flowing from her palms into his wounds—and something else, too. Something older. Richer.

She looked up, expecting a sarcastic remark. But his eyes were closed. His breath had evened out.

He was asleep.

Momo blinked. “…Wow. Most people don’t pass out after seeing my boobs.”

She glanced up at the mural of Bovara.

“Don’t you dare do something weird while he’s unconscious.”

The mural’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, no.”

At first, there was only warmth.

Then came the smell of clover. Sweet grass. Milk warmed by sun. And the slow, sensual tolling of cowbells in the distance.

Diablos blinked.

He was no longer in the temple.

He stood barefoot in a golden field, waist-deep in tall grass that shimmered with pink and silver under an impossible twilight sky. The clouds were shaped like hearts. The moon had udders. Somewhere, a flute played what could only be described as erotically pastoral jazz.

“…oh gods. Not again.”

He turned.

She stood at the edge of a hill, radiant and curvaceous, bathed in sunlight that moved like silk. Her horns curled elegantly above her head, her robes flowed like cream, and her eyes sparkled with divine mischief.

Bovara.

The Cow Goddess of Fertility, Joy, Creation… and, evidently, really weird dreams.

“You’ve been drinking my milk again, haven’t you?” she said, walking toward him, each step jiggling with celestial intention.

“I was bleeding. Momo told me to,” Diablos grunted.

“Oh, I love that little cleric of mine,” Bovara cooed, circling him slowly. “So faithful. So bouncy. And she keeps giving you my gifts without reading the fine print. Tsk.”

“I’m not turning into a cow am I?”

“No, no, well kinda… you have embraced my teachings and knowledge in ways few others have. You handled it beautifully. This is a little different.”

He stiffened. “Define ‘different.’”

Bovara leaned in, her voice like honeyed cream poured over a temple bell. “You see, you’ve got dragon blood. Fiery, ancient, stubborn. Combine that with my blessing, and… well.” She snapped her fingers.

A shock ran through Diablos’s spine. He gasped, stumbling, as his muscles swelled and reshaped, his skin taking on a faint sheen of gold. horns grew, curling outward like a bull’s, thick and heavy. His breathing hitched—hot and ragged—as something primordial woke up in his chest and groin both.

His hands flexed. His back arched. And behind him, a thick tail with a tuft of fur and scales whipped out like it had always been there.

“What… what did you do to me?” he moaned, his voice deeper, rougher, vibrating with heat and hunger.

“I blessed you, Diablos,” Bovara purred, stepping behind him and pressing her hands against his now broadened back. “I made you whole. The bull. The dragon. The stud.”

He staggered forward, falling to his knees as the pressure built in his body—every nerve alight, every muscle burning with desire, need, the sacred urge to mate, claim, breed.

“You’ll be back to normal soon,” she added sweetly. “But for now… you’re going to feel exactly what it means to be mine. To be hers.”

His eyes flared open—red and glowing.

“Hers?” he growled, panting. “You mean—?”

“Oh yes,” Bovara giggled, walking away, the sky rippling behind her with a wink. “Momo. She’s the only other holstaur in reach. You will find her.”

Diablos collapsed onto all fours, his breath heaving. Every part of him ached with strength. With arousal. With purpose.

“Bovara…” he groaned, clawing at the earth. “This feels like cheating.”

“No, darling,” came her fading voice on the wind. “This is courtship.”

Diablos stirred on the cushions, his chest rising with a slow, labored breath.

Then, like thunder cracking in a velvet sky, he jolted upright—eyes snapping open, crimson and molten.

“Momo,” he gasped, voice hoarse like a lover’s prayer.

The cleric flinched, dropping the healing crystal she’d been holding. It clattered to the floor with a sharp ping. “You’re awake? Finally! I swear, if you moo one more weird thing in your slee—”

Her words died on her tongue.

Because he was changing.

Right before her wide, unblinking eyes, the barbarian paladin she’d healed, and secretly longed for—grew.

His muscles bulged with supernatural strength, the curve of his back rippling with both dragon’s heat and something… bovine. Fur bristled across his shoulders and thighs. His feet—hooves now—dug into the soft temple rug with impatient weight. Thick, glinting scales danced across his arms and chest in streaks of gold and ember-red.

And then—

Horns.

Massive. Curved. Crown-like.

His eyes flared, glowing with lust and power. A heavy tail lashed behind him—furred, twitching, insistent.

“Oh my Bovara,” Momo whispered, stunned. “What happened to you?”

Diablos looked at her—and it was like the last thread of restraint in the cosmos snapped.

He stared like a starving man stumbling into paradise. Like every silent wish and fevered fantasy had been answered and placed in front of him in one glorious, curvy, horned package.

Momo stepped back slowly, breath catching. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He opened his mouth to speak.

What came out was a low, guttural moo that vibrated through the air like thunder in a heatwave.

Then, barely intelligible through the need, came a gravel-thick growl:

“You’re… a holstaur.” He panted. “I… need… to—**moo—**to mate!”

Momo blinked. “Is that what we’re calling it now?!”

But her body had already responded. Her breath hitched. Her skin tingled. And her heart—oh, her heart—was galloping.

Because this wasn’t just heat. This wasn’t just a barbarian paladin gone wild.

This was him. Diablos. Overflowing with a divine hunger that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with finally—finally—having permission to love her the way he’d always wanted.

He advanced, slow and reverent, as if closing a sacred distance. His massive hands curled into fists like he was holding himself back with the strength of mountains.

She didn’t run.

She didn’t flinch.

She just watched him approach—eyes locked, lips parted, cheeks flushing with that dangerous blend of fear and desire and something too big to name. Her fingers trembled at her sides.

He stopped inches from her, his chest heaving, his scent warm and electric—grass, smoke, divine milk, and man.

Momo’s voice cracked, trying to tease, failing to hide the thrum in her throat. “Fine.”

She reached up, grabbed his broad, burning shoulders—and pulled him down.

Their mouths met with the fury of crashing waves and the ache of prayers finally answered.

It wasn’t careful.

It wasn’t clean.

It was raw and sacred and overdue.

He kissed her like she was holy. Like her lips were the altar and he was the worshipper too long denied. His hands, trembling, cradled her face like he was terrified she might vanish. His kiss was trembling at first, then deeper, hungrier, more desperate.

Momo melted. Giggled breathlessly against his lips, surprised by the tenderness in so much raw power. Her hands roamed up into his wild hair, fingers tangling and yanking—not to stop him, but to anchor him.

The kiss shifted. Grew hotter. Deeper. Sloppier.

Tongues tangled. Teeth clashed. Moans escaped—needy and involuntary.

And then—

She felt it.

A warm pulse rolled down her spine. Her body arched, the divine power rising in her blood like moonlight through milk. Her breath caught, and her form bloomed—hips rounding, thighs thickening, breasts full and heavy. Her horns lengthened and curled with celestial grace. Her skin flushed with golden warmth.

A soft, feminine moo escaped her lips as she leaned into him.

He didn’t pull away.

He groaned—low and sacred and overwhelmed—and held her tighter, like she was everything.

And then, between deep kisses and holy shivers, he choked out the truth in one broken, sacred breath:

“I love you. Like… so much.”

She froze. Only for a second.

Her eyes searched his—those molten, red-gold orbs burning with not just lust, but adoration. She saw it all there. Every unsaid thing. Every stupid, brave, silent ache.

And then—gently—she kissed him again, slow and soft, her forehead resting against his.

“I know,” she whispered, her horns brushing his. “Me too.”

They held each other like the world had just begun.

And maybe, thanks to Bovara…

It had.

Momo smirked as she pushed Diablos down onto the floor she fully undressed them both as she locked eyes with him. Her gaze was furious wild and unapologetic as she stared at his now massive cock. It stood proud and painfully erect for her.

She smiled and said, “is this all for me?” Before lightly touching his cock and watching precum ooze out. She smiled as it tasted like cream before she mounted him.

Overcome with need she leans over as she fully sinks down onto Diablos’s cock. He moans as she graciously puts her breast into his mouth.

“Drink my blessed milk,” she says and Diablos drinks. He feels his mind become cloudier but freer as his complex thoughts and worries just wash away with each tender sip. They both moo as the rut into each other like animals. Momo’s walls viciously clench around Diablos as he tries and fails to resisting cumming inside her.

He groans as he fills her womb with cum. Momo groans in appreciation and approval at being bred and for a moment she feels Bovara’s divine essence fill her and Diablos as it moves through them as they drink in each other’s presence. Moans and mood fly as they reach their mutual peaks.

The morning sun streamed lazily through the stained-glass windows of the Temple of Bovara, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the long wooden table. Plates of food were scattered in organized chaos: fresh-baked honey bread, thick slices of fruit glazed in cream, grilled sausage, eggs glowing golden with magic, and—of course—more milk than should be legal.

Diablos sat at one end of the bench, arms crossed behind his head, grinning like he didn’t just “consecrate” half of the private healing chamber ago.

Momo sat across from him, fork in her mouth, cheeks puffed with food like an angry chipmunk. She glared at him as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“You’re staring,” she mumbled, chewing.

“You’ve got cream on your lip,” he said, voice low and lazy.

“No, I don’t,” she said, immediately licking at nothing.

Diablos smirked. “Yeah, you do.”

She narrowed her eyes, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and threw a grape at him. It bounced off his cheek and landed in his lap.

“Hit me with one more fruit and I swear I’ll turn this temple into a honeymoon suite.”

“We already did,” she said under her breath.

“Yeah, but with decorations this time.”

Momo rolled her eyes, but her ears were flushed pink. She stabbed another slice of honeyed peach, trying to look disinterested, even though she kept sneaking glances at him—his forearms, the way his shirt clung to his chest, the scar that trailed along his collarbone.

He caught her looking. Again.

“What?” she asked, mouth half-full.

“I like seeing you eat,” he said casually.

“Why are you always so weirdly turned on by food?” she asked, blushing as she took a bite. “Is this a barbarian thing or a bull thing?”

Diablos leaned forward, eyes lidded, lips curving into a slow grin. “I don’t know, Momo. It’s just that I like watching you feel safe and do all the little things you do when you’re being fed or taken care of. However You’re also the one who moaned over that melon slice last night.”

“That was divine produce,” she said, voice rising defensively. “It had a literal joy enchantment on it!”

“Sure it did.” He winked. “And your little leg shake had nothing to do with it, right?”

She nearly choked on her bread and had to down half a cup of milk just to survive. Big mistake as the Milk rushed through her body filling her with a renewed lust and need.

The air between them buzzed, hotter than the sun outside. Diablos’s smile faded into something heavier, hungrier. His foot brushed hers under the table. Just once. Then again.

Momo froze.

She looked up. Their eyes met.

His fingers curled around his cup slowly. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

She nodded. Just barely.

The tension was ridiculous. Like a thunderstorm waiting to detonate. Her skin buzzed. Her thighs clenched. Even the milk seemed thicker somehow—suspiciously so.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have let Bovara bless the food,” she muttered.

“I didn’t,” Diablos said. “You did.”

“She likes it when people are well-fed and well-loved!”

He leaned forward, voice lower now. “You gonna ‘love’ me on the table or after I clear the dishes?”

Her face turned crimson. “You’re such a menace.”

“You keep feeding me,” he shrugged. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

There was a pause.

A dangerous, delicious pause.

Momo stood suddenly, slamming her hands on the table. “Okay. That’s it. We’re eating outside. With supervision. In full armor.”

Diablos leaned back, laughing. “You sure? I was thinking dessert.”

Momo tossed a napkin at his face and stormed toward the garden, muttering under her breath.

He followed her, still barefoot, still smirking.

And behind them, the milk pitcher trembled slightly—glowing faintly with divine mischief.

When they got to the garden Momo could barely contain herself as she lifted her robes to grant Diablos easy access to her pussy, and without a second thought he plunged his cock into her soft wet tight hole.

“Ah ah moo,” Momo moaned feeling the aura of Bovara consume her Diablos grabbed and massaged her breasts. Kneading them with desperate fervor as he thrust into her. Momo’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as Diablos continued mounting her. Her mind filled with visions of little holustar children running around with scales around their collars and slitted eyes.

Momo turned to Diablos and kissed him. A kiss of claiming of marking. Their bodies heated violently before they reached their peaks.

Momo’s eyes rolled as she was filled again. It left her feeling whole complete. She smiled at Diablos before settling her down.

“You’re dangerous,” Momo teased

“Yeah but you love me,” Diablos shot back. Momo smirked and said,

“Yeah I do,”

“Good now come on. I have to report to the guild hall,” Diablos chortled. Momo sighed but happily took his arm and hand as they walked. The guild hall buzzed with the usual chaos—adventurers swapping stories and scars, contracts being scribbled, coins changing hands fast enough to make the gods blink. The place smelled like steel, ink, and too much ale before noon.

Diablos towered near the front counter, relaxed in his half-unbuttoned tunic, arms crossed and mood entirely too good for someone who’d just fought an elder dragon and temporarily become a divine bull hybrid. Momo stood beside him, a little shorter than usual thanks to being in her “human” form, but her presence just as radiant—robes flaring with every step, cheeks still flushed from their overly affectionate breakfast.

The guild associate, a tired elf with reading glasses and the posture of a tax accountant, slid a leather pouch of coin across the counter.

“All verified. Congratulations, Diablos. Elder dragon slain. Property damage minimal this time. Payment in full.” The elf blinked. “And uh… there’s also a temple tithe on your behalf. From the Order of Bovara. Labeled ‘blessing surcharge’?”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Diablos muttered.

Momo just hummed and nudged his side with her elbow. “You did scream ‘praise be to Bovara’ mid-transformation.”

“That was involuntary and I was full of divine hormones!”

The elf cleared his throat and pointedly looked away.

As they walked out into the sun-warmed plaza, Momo glanced up at him. “So. Why adventuring?”

Diablos slowed, hands in his pockets. His smirk faltered just a little.

“I guess…” he started, then trailed off. “When I was younger, I noticed something. People only told the truth when I hit them hard enough.”

Momo blinked. “That’s… a bit intense.”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t mean just violence. I mean in battle, people are honest. You see their fear. Their courage. What they really want. They can’t hide it. No pretending. No small talk. Just—truth.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then: “So you’ve only ever felt seen when you were in danger?”

He shrugged, then looked over at her, softer now. “Not always. Not since I met you. After my first quest, I came to the temple for healing, thinking you’d be another polite priestess who’d patch me up and send me on my way.”

She smiled, slow and genuine.

“But then you looked at me like I was already whole, even when I was bleeding out on your floor. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t flatter. You just… told me to stop bleeding on the tiles.”

Momo laughed, her eyes crinkling. “To be fair, you were leaking onto the sacred mosaic of Fertility Eternal.”

“And yet,” he said, smirking again, “you’re the only one who made me feel like I didn’t have to fight to be understood.”

Momo slowed her pace, then reached out and took his hand without fanfare. “I’m glad I’m your earnest friend who you don’t have to fight.”

His grip tightened just a little, reverent.

They walked in silence for a while longer, hand in hand, until Momo tilted her head and said, “Wanna know something weird about me?”

“More than usual?”

She grinned, then exhaled. “Bovara chose me when I was twelve. Just… appeared. In a dream. Said I was hers.”

“That young?”

She nodded, her smile fading a little. “Yeah. And… her blessing came with some changes. I, uh… developed faster than the other girls. Fuller. Rounder. More… cow-adjacent.”

He looked over, sensing the tension. “They bullied you?”

“Oh, relentlessly,” she said, faking cheer. “Called me names. Said I looked unnatural. One kid even mooed at me in class.”

He winced. “Want me to find him?”

“I already cursed him with lactose intolerance.”

He blinked. “Remind me never to cross you.”

She smirked but her gaze dropped again. “The temple was the first place that didn’t make me feel like a freak. They called me sacred instead of shameful. But even then… I didn’t feel like I belonged. I still longed for something. For someone who didn’t see the blessing as a burden.”

Diablos’s voice came out low. “You were never a freak. You were always divine.”

She turned to him, surprised.

“I don’t mean just holy. I mean… you. You’re joy. You’re creation. You’re everything Bovara stands for—except with better comedic timing.”

Her face flushed pink.

“And,” he added, “anyone who ever mocked you should thank Bovara that I met you after I got my rage under control.”

She laughed, tearful and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

He squeezed her hand again. “And you’re miraculous.”

They stood in the middle of the square, the world buzzing around them, but wrapped in a kind of private stillness. A sacred, stolen breath between battles, between blessings.

Then Momo’s stomach rumbled. Loudly.

They both looked down at it.

Diablos raised an eyebrow. “Another divine craving?”

“I swear, if Bovara is trying to make me snack-horny again—”

“…Snack-horny?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I MEANT—”

“Too late, it’s canon now,” Diablos said, grinning. “Guess we’re getting dessert.”

Momo rolled her eyes then said, “I have to go back to the temple for a bit, then we can get all the desert you want,”

Diablos laughed and shot back, “you’re the one with the rumbling tummy,” Momo smiled as Diablos followed her to the temple

The sun was dipping low, turning the sky into a rich swirl of apricot and lavender, when Momo and Diablos crossed the threshold of Bovara’s temple.

The golden doors swung open with their usual soft mooo, and the familiar warmth washed over them: rose milk incense, polished marble floors warm from the sun, and the faint scent of wildflowers and cream. The air shimmered faintly with divine energy—as always—but today, something felt… thicker. Tighter. Like the temple itself was holding its breath.

Momo paused, sensing it first.

“…She’s here,” she murmured.

Diablos raised a brow. “Bovara? She doesn’t usually make house calls, does she?”

“Only when something’s about to get interesting.”

As they entered the central hall, the temple’s light shifted—glowing warmer, deeper, and impossibly radiant. The offerings on the altar glowed. The air hummed. And then—

She arrived.

Bovara didn’t walk into the room. She existed into it.

A towering holstaur goddess with skin like sun-warmed cream, golden eyes, and curves carved from divinity itself stepped down from a shaft of light, her hooves clacking gently on the marble as her long tail swished. Her white and gold silks flowed like water around her, and her horns glimmered with pearlescent charm.

Her voice rang out, playful and loud, like laughter at a midsummer feast.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

Momo immediately dropped to a respectful bow—half formal, half sheepish.

Diablos stared for a second too long. “…You weren’t kidding about the suggestive harvest murals.”

Bovara’s gaze slid toward him, and her lips curled into a smile so knowing it should’ve come with a warning label.

“And you must be the sacred stud who broke my cleric’s curse of celibate longing,” Bovara purred, eyes raking over Diablos with both divine amusement and appraisal. “My my. You’re even handsomer without fur. Mostly.”

Momo turned a scandalized shade of red. “Goddess—!”

“Shush, little milkdrop,” Bovara said fondly, waving her off. “I’m doing divine work.”

Diablos cleared his throat, somewhere between flattered and terrified. “Uh. I hope you’re not here to smite me.”

Bovara laughed—a rich, musical sound that made the floor vibrate and the walls sway with joy. “Smite you? Please. I ought to canonize you.”

She twirled a strand of her long golden hair and stepped closer, her gaze softening as she looked at Momo.

“I’ve been taking inventory,” she said, voice suddenly velvet. “Checking on all my little beloveds. And what do I find when I come home?”

She gestured between them, beaming.

“One of my brightest clerics… has found her soulmate.”

Momo’s breath caught.

Diablos’s eyes widened. “Soulmate?”

Bovara winked. “You think that kind of spiritual-moo-transformation happens with just anyone? Please. Divine bonds don’t just manifest because someone drinks temple milk and gets horny. You two were written into each other’s story before either of you knew what a blessing was.”

Momo looked up at Diablos, stunned, her hands nervously twisting the fabric of her robes.

He met her gaze, and for once, words escaped him.

Bovara tilted her head, knowingly. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? That tension between you—not just lust, but that unbearable, beautiful ache. That’s mine. That’s soul-thread. It doesn’t unravel. It tightens.”

Momo swallowed hard. “So… this wasn’t just divine heat?”

“Oh, it was,” Bovara said, winking. “But divine heat, when matched with true devotion, burns forever. You’re not just lovers. You’re bound.”

Diablos exhaled sharply, then turned toward Momo fully. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet but certain.

“Then I’m glad it’s you.”

Momo smiled, shy and glowing, like she was thirteen again and hearing the goddess call her for the first time.

“I always hoped it would be you,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Bovara let out a proud little moo-sigh. “Oh, you two are going to make the most fertile chaos.”

Then she clapped her hands and the entire temple rang like a bell.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go bless a goat mid-labor. Try not to immediately rip each other’s clothes off in the vestibule.”

She disappeared in a puff of glittery mist and faint erotic laughter, leaving Momo and Diablos alone in the golden light of the temple.

The silence stretched.

Momo turned to him, dazed. “So… soulmate, huh?”

Diablos shrugged. “I mean… I did say I love you mid-moo. That counts for something.”

She laughed, giddy and warm, and leaned in to bump her horns gently against his.

“Guess we better start planning our next offering.”

Diablos smirked. “Marriage, or… another ‘blessing’?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Why not both?”

173 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 18 days ago

Text

Another normal day in dorm (Jeongyeon)

Due to a sudden illness, Jeongyeon’s body underwent a dramatic change—her weight skyrocketed, and her figure became unrecognizable. For an idol whose career depends on her appearance, this was a crushing blow.

Her once slender and graceful body became bloated and clumsy. The chubby woman staring back at her in the mirror felt like a complete stranger, filling Jeongyeon with shame and alienation. She avoided mirrors, refused to go out, and hid at home, wallowing in self-pity.

As a public figure, Jeongyeon dreaded fans discovering her transformation, terrified of their ridicule and rejection. Her agency worked tirelessly to conceal the issue, fearing it would tarnish the group’s image.

Under this dual pressure, Jeongyeon’s psyche began to warp. She became obsessed with perverse erotic novels, finding fleeting pleasure in their pages.

When night fell, Jeongyeon would sneak into public restrooms, locking herself in the innermost stall. Stripping off her clothes, she faced the grimy walls and began to masturbate.

Her mind was consumed by the wild plots of those stories: rape, domination, humiliation… The thought of these sent heat coursing through her body. She yearned to be ravaged, to be toyed with until her mind unraveled, like the heroines in her novels.

“Mmm… give me more… harder…” Jeongyeon moaned softly with her eyes closed, her fingers moving rapidly between her legs. She deliberately made louder noises, fantasizing about someone bursting in, stripping away her dignity and boundaries.

After what felt like an eternity, Jeongyeon reached climax. She collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down her face. This perverse pleasure left her feeling hollow and sorrowful, yet she was powerless to stop.

9:46 PM

While the other members of TWICE were preparing for their comeback, Jeongyeon was left alone in the dorm again. While watching erotic novels before going to bed, the power suddenly went out due to a faulty circuit breaker. With no other option, Jeongyeon called her manager for help. The manager and his assistant, who were out dining, promised to come over after hearing about the blackout.

The manager and assistant arrived soon and told Jeongyeon to wait while the assistant went to fetch tools and a new circuit breaker. As they waited, the manager struck up a conversation with Jeongyeon.

Soon, the assistant returned with the tools. In the dark dorm, the manager had Jeongyeon hold a flashlight while he worked on replacing the circuit breaker, with the assistant observing nearby.

At that moment, Jeongyeon noticed the manager and assistant staring at her with lecherous eyes. An inexplicable wave of desire surged within her, making it hard to control herself. Feeling overheated, she handed the flashlight to the assistant and stumbled into the bathroom in the dark. The manager continued working on the breaker, while the assistant smirked mischievously.

In the bathroom, Jeongyeon, overwhelmed by desire, even she had just masturbated crazy in a public toilet, clamped her thighs together, bent over the toilet lid, and supported herself with one hand while the other reached down, frantically rubbing her clitoris. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but her body’s intense reaction was uncontrollable.

“Why? Why this sudden, overwhelming lust? Why? I can’t take it anymore!” Jeongyeon thought as she pleasured herself, her hips facing the bathroom door. Suddenly, the lights came back on, and she felt a hand on her buttocks. Startled, she stopped but remained bent over, too nervous to look back.

The manager, caressing her round buttocks, said, “Jeongyeon, are you that lonely? Masturbating in the bathroom when there are men in the dorm? TWICE’s girls are so naughty.” The assistant, seeing Jeongyeon in such a compromising position, was stunned but quickly became aroused.

Blushing and too shy to turn around, but being horny at the same time, Jeongyeon whispered, “Oppa, you can’t do this… we’re colleagues.”

“Haha, it’s because we’re colleagues that we should help relieve your loneliness. We’re just being helpful!” the manager said shamelessly, reaching around to unhook her bra. Jeongyeon let out a reluctant “ah.”

The manager pulled down her pajama pants and underwear, leaving her in just her top, her pale, round buttocks fully exposed to the two men.

“So beautiful,” the manager muttered. Both men eagerly groped her soft, white buttocks, occasionally squeezing the flesh.

“Oppa, don’t… don’t bully me like this… it’s not right…” Jeongyeon squirmed slightly, as if trying to evade their hands, but to the two men, it seemed like she was enticing them further.

“Bro, her skin is so smooth, so soft. I wonder how it feels to fuck her,” the assistant said. Jeongyeon buried her face in the toilet lid, too ashamed to face them, but her position made it all too easy for them to molest her. The assistant slipped his hand under her top, roughly kneading her breasts, shaping them into various forms and tugging at her nipples. The manager knelt down, licking her vagina, which was already wet with arousal. His teasing made her labia glisten, her pink folds irresistibly tempting.

“Ah… mm… ah… you can’t… you can’t do this…” Jeongyeon moaned, her remaining shred of rationality making a final stand. The assistant, still groping her breasts, kissed her ears and lifted her shoulders to kiss her face. Jeongyeon’s face was flushed with desire, driving the assistant to kiss her neck, cheeks, and lips passionately. Jeongyeon, moaning, reciprocated, extending her tongue to meet his kisses.

The manager moved his tongue to the area between her anus and vagina, his fingers relentlessly stimulating her clitoris. He licked around her wet anus, probing it with his tongue.

“Ah… ah… don’t… don’t lick there…” Jeongyeon was incoherent, her mind already surrendering to the assault of the two men.

The manager, licking her anus, stood up and said, “, I’ll let you go first. I’ll play with her tits.” Feeling the absence of the manager’s tongue, Jeongyeon felt a strange sense of loss. The assistant dropped his pants, positioned himself behind her, and thrust his erect cock into her vagina.

“Ah… ah…” Jeongyeon felt a rush of fulfillment, accepting the assistant’s assault.

“So good, Jeongyeon. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long but never had the chance. You’re always so glamorous on stage, I didn’t dare speak much. Turns out you’re such a slut, seducing us to rape you when the others aren’t around,” the assistant said as he thrust.

He watched his cock slide in and out of her vagina, stretching her opening wide, the visual stimulation intense. His cock glistened with her juices. Her pink vagina opened and closed with each thrust.

“Fuck… fuck my pussy… it feels so good… so big… I can’t take it… mm… ah… ah…” The manager sat on the toilet lid, Jeongyeon’s head resting between his legs. He lifted her face, urging her to suck him. With a trace of rationality left, Jeongyeon was overwhelmed by the sight of his cock. Under his coercion, she took half of it into her mouth. The manager enjoyed her blowjob, grabbing her breasts and teasing her nipples.

The assistant, holding her waist, began thrusting rapidly, continuing for about 20 minutes. Jeongyeon’s legs weakened, her body leaning heavily on the manager. His cock went deeper into her mouth, causing her to gag and choke from the intensity.

The assistant’s thighs slapped against her buttocks, reddening them with each impact. Choking on the manager’s cock and overwhelmed by the assistant’s thrusts, Jeongyeon struggled, but the assistant kept pounding her vagina. As he came, she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

The assistant, sweating from the exertion, felt exhilarated watching Jeongyeon collapse. The manager stood, lifted her, washed her face, and stripped off her remaining clothes, leaving her completely naked.

He sat her on the toilet lid, placed her legs on his shoulders, and thrust his thick cock into her vagina. The size caused her pain, and she grimaced, clutching his waist as he pounded her. He moved slowly, grinding against her, mixing her juices with the assistant’s semen, and rubbed her clitoris.

Jeongyeon moaned, “Ah… ah… it feels so good… Oppa, you’re fucking me so good…”

The manager said, “Hold her arms. I’ll show you something exciting.”

The assistant grabbed her arms, pulling them from the manager’s waist. The manager sped up, flipping her labia with each thrust. Jeongyeon, never having experienced such a large cock, screamed, “Ah… ah…” The assistant rapidly rubbed her clitoris, overwhelming her with pleasure.

“Ah… ah… Oppa, stop… you can’t fuck me like this… I’ll break… ah…” Jeongyeon trembled, unable to resist the two men. As the manager thrust and the assistant teased her clitoris, she suddenly urinated, spraying onto the manager. Shocked but thrilled, he realized he had reduced a beloved idol to such a state.

Jeongyeon arched her back, screaming, “Ah… ah… don’t…” before climaxing. Her body was covered in urine, sweat, and juices, experiencing unprecedented stimulation.

Exhausted, her arms hung limply as the manager continued fucking her vagina. The assistant placed his cock at her mouth, and she obediently opened it, letting him thrust inside.

In TWICE’s dorm, the manager and assistant took turns—one fucking her vagina, the other her mouth. The assistant deliberately thrust deeply, aroused by her submissive demeanor.

Five minutes later, the assistant shoved his cock fully into her mouth, causing her to struggle and gag, tears and snot streaming down her face. The manager kept pounding her vagina, pulling out and thrusting back in, making her body tremble. Seeing her pained yet aroused expression, the assistant came in her throat.

After cumming, the assistant felt no fatigue, still stroking her body. The manager continued raping her for another half hour before shooting his load deep inside her.

In over an hour, both men had cummed in her mouth and vagina. Exhausted, Jeongyeon sat limply on the toilet, semen dripping from her vagina, too ashamed to look at them.

The manager, crouching to admire her dripping vagina, said excitedly, “Good thing I was prepared and captured this moment.” A camera on the counter had recorded everything.

The assistant, playing with her vagina, said, “Jeongyeon, want more? We’ve helped you relieve your urges.”

Jeongyeon, head bowed, said nothing, her breasts heaving. The assistant’s fingers teased her vagina, slipping inside.

“…Mm…” Jeongyeon moaned instinctively.

The assistant kissed her, speeding up his fingers. Under his teasing, she moaned erotically again.

“…Ah… ah… no more, Oppa… I’m exhausted… ah… mm… ah…” After a few minutes, she climaxed again, urinating high into the air, to the manager’s delight.

3:30 AM

Jeongyeon lay on the bed’s edge, the manager holding her legs, thrusting steadily into her vagina. She was giving the assistant a blowjob, her head hanging off the bed, aligning her throat for deep penetration. The assistant’s cock went fully inside, his pubic hair covering her face, her throat bulging as she swallowed.

Her deep throating pleased the assistant. After a few seconds, he pulled out.

“Cough… cough…” Jeongyeon choked, grabbing his cock to stop him, saying seductively, “Oppa, you’ll kill me!”

The assistant chuckled, groping her breasts, saying, “How could I? I love you too much! Who else would we play with? Come on, keep going.” He thrust back into her mouth.

Jeongyeon obediently continued. After a night of relentless assault, the men’s rhythm was perfect. Soon, her body writhed, gripping the sheets, legs alternating between closing and spreading, toes curling, breathing heavily.

The men exchanged a knowing smile and sped up. Seconds later, Jeongyeon trembled violently, legs clamping around the manager’s waist, her body arching in a sensual curve.

After two minutes of climax, she relaxed. The men stepped back, their erect cocks twitching. Jeongyeon lay smiling, her limbs twitching slightly.

Ten minutes later, she slowly got up. The assistant hugged her from behind, asking, “How was it? Good?”

Leaning weakly against him, she brushed her hair aside and shyly said, “Damn Oppa… you’ll kill me eventually.”

The manager pinched her chin, saying, “Slut, we haven’t even cum yet. What now?”

Jeongyeon glanced at him, her voice dripping with seduction, “Then let this little slut serve you well!” She stood and kissed the manager passionately.

“Bro, mind if I go first?” the assistant asked.

“Go ahead. She almost sucked me dry earlier,” the manager replied. The assistant kissed Jeongyeon, thrusting into her vagina and pumping away.

Watching them, the manager hugged her from behind, saying, “I’ll take the back door, slut.”

“Mm… mmm…” Jeongyeon, lost in the kiss, mumbled in agreement. The manager spit on his hand, rubbed his softening cock, and pressed it against her anus, saying, “Here it comes,” before thrusting in.

“Mmm… mmm…” Jeongyeon moaned muffledly, her mouth occupied.

“So tight…” the manager gasped.

“Yeah, her front’s tight too. Still like a virgin after all this. She’s perfect!” the assistant said, pulling away from her mouth.

“Ah… Oppa… you bad guys… you’ve played with every part of me…” Jeongyeon panted, her voice intoxicatingly seductive.

“Idols are just different. So much better than regular sluts,” the manager said, groping her breast.

“Yeah… it’s like fucking a corpse with them…” the assistant said, thrusting hard.

“You… pervy Oppas…” Jeongyeon gasped.

Sandwiched between them, she moaned, “Oppa… faster… I’m coming… so good… you’re killing me… ah…” She trembled violently, climaxing again.

The men didn’t stop, continuing to fondle her breasts and body while fucking her vagina and anus in sync.

The wet sounds grew louder. Jeongyeon trembled again, clearly thrilled by the prolonged assault, cooperating fully.

After about 15 minutes, with Jeongyeon climaxing again, she hugged the assistant tightly, unable to make a sound, her hands gripping his back, knuckles white, feet arched, toes curled.

The men, reaching their limit, panted heavily, thrusting faster.

“Oh…” The manager roared, pressing against her buttocks, his scrotum contracting as he came in her anus.

“I’m cumming… ah…” The assistant hugged her tightly, thrusting deep, shooting his load into her vagina.

“You’re fucking me to death…” Jeongyeon screamed hysterically, her body tensing before going limp, fainting.

255 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 23 days ago

Note

Can I request a sweeter lesserafim x inexperienced male reader smut story?

BURNING DESIRE (Smut)

Le Sserafim OT5 x Male Reader

AN: Hey y'all! Here's an OT5 smut for you guys! Have a great weekend! 💗

The energy of the concert still lingered in the air, a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion settling over the hotel suite. The five members of LE SSERAFIM had changed into comfortable clothes, their post-performance glow making them look even more ethereal than usual. The male reader, their close friend and the person who had always supported them behind the scenes, sat in the center of the plush couch, surrounded on all sides by the girls.

"That was insane," Kazuha sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "The crowd was so loud tonight. I think my ears are still ringing."

"Yeah, but did you see how hyped they got when Y/N showed up backstage?" Chaewon smirked, nudging him lightly. "I swear, some of our fans are more excited about him than us."

Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That’s just because I’ve been around for so long. They probably see me as your lucky charm or something."

Sakura, sitting beside him, tilted her head playfully. "Maybe we do too."

The atmosphere was relaxed, but there was an undeniable weight to their gazes. Something unspoken lingered between them, thickening the air. Y/N had always felt a close bond with the members, but tonight, something was different. The way they were looking at him—soft, warm, almost too focused—sent a strange shiver down his spine.

"You’re blushing," Yunjin pointed out with a teasing grin, leaning in a little closer. "Are we making you nervous, Y/N?"

"N-no," he stammered, but the way his voice cracked at the end made them giggle.

Eunchae, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, rested her chin on her hand. "You know, we’ve always wondered something about you."

"Oh?" Y/N tried to sound casual, but his heart was already beating too fast.

Chaewon exchanged glances with the others before leaning in, lowering her voice. "You’ve never really talked about relationships. Like… have you ever been with someone?"

The question made his breath hitch. He shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper aware of how close they all were. "I mean… not really."

A beat of silence followed. Then, Sakura smiled gently. "That’s cute."

"Cute?" Y/N echoed, incredulous. "Isn’t that kind of… sad?"

"No," Kazuha reassured him, her voice soft. "It just means you haven’t been with the right person yet."

Yunjin’s fingers brushed lightly against his arm, sending a wave of warmth through him. "You know we adore you, right? You’ve always been there for us, taking care of us in ways we don’t always realize."

Eunchae nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! And you’re always so sweet to us."

Just then, Sakura stood up with a smirk and walked over to the minibar. "You know what? I think tonight calls for a little celebration." She pulled out a few bottles of liquor, making the others perk up in excitement.

"Ohhh, drinking with Y/N? This is gonna be fun!" Yunjin grinned, clapping her hands.

"Wait, wait, I don’t drink much—" Y/N started, but Chaewon was already handing him a glass, eyes twinkling.

"Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you," she teased. "Just a little something to loosen up."

They started drinking, the warmth of the alcohol settling in, making the mood even more relaxed. Their laughter grew louder, their touches lingered just a little longer, and their words became bolder.

"Alright, confession time!" Kazuha announced, pointing at Y/N. "Tell us the truth—have you ever even kissed someone before?"

Y/N nearly choked on his drink. "W-what kind of question is that?!"

"Just answer!" Eunchae giggled, already leaning forward in anticipation.

He hesitated before mumbling, "...No."

The girls gasped in unison, their eyes widening in shock and amusement.

"No way," Yunjin whispered, inching closer. "That’s… adorable."

"I don’t know if adorable is the right word," Y/N muttered, flustered beyond belief.

Chaewon tilted her head. "So… does that mean you’ve never…?"

His face burned. "Never what?"

Sakura leaned in, her voice low and teasing. "Never been with anyone, in any way?"

He covered his face with his hands. "Oh my god, why are we talking about this?"

"Because we’re curious," Kazuha giggled. "And a little tipsy."

Eunchae beamed. "It just means we get to be your firsts!"

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Y/N slowly lowered his hands, only to find five pairs of eyes looking at him with a mix of amusement, fondness, and something deeper.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Chaewon asked softly, her fingers grazing his hand.

Y/N swallowed hard. His heart was racing, and yet… he wasn’t afraid. There was no pressure, no expectations—just warmth, affection, and the quiet promise of something beautiful.

"Do you trust us?" Sakura murmured.

He nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Kazuha smiled, her fingers intertwining with his. "Then let us take care of you tonight."

Y/N’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced, but their presence, their warmth, anchored him in place. Every part of him told him that this moment was safe, that whatever happened tonight would be something beautiful.

Sakura moved in first, resting her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him in a slow, comforting embrace. "We don’t want to rush you, Y/N," she whispered. "We just want you to know how much you mean to us."

"You’ve always been here for us, always putting us first," Chaewon added, her fingers tracing small patterns on his hand. "Let us be here for you now."

Yunjin sighed, leaning against the couch, eyes warm and affectionate. "You’re always thinking about other people. When’s the last time you let yourself feel special? Truly wanted?"

Y/N’s lips parted, but no words came out. His chest felt tight, overwhelmed in the best way possible. It was one thing to admire them from afar, to support them as a friend—but this? This was something else entirely.

"We love you," Kazuha murmured, her fingers tightening around his. "All of us do."

Eunchae, still on the floor, beamed up at him. "We just want you to feel loved the way you deserve to be."

The warmth of their bodies surrounding him, the softness of their words, the way they were looking at him—it was intoxicating. Y/N had never felt like this before, never felt so completely enveloped in affection.

"Just relax, Y/N," Chaewon whispered.

"We’ll take care of everything," Yunjin added, her voice laced with affection.

"You don’t have to do anything… just let us love you," Kazuha finished, her voice barely above a breath.

One by one, they inched closer to you, their warmth sinking into your skin, the faint scent of perfume and liquor lingering in the air. A brush of fingers along your arm, a thigh pressing lightly against yours—each touch slow, deliberate, testing your reaction. The space around you seemed to shrink, their soft laughter wrapping around you like a haze, their voices dipping lower, sweeter. You could feel their gazes on you, playful, affectionate, filled with something deeper.

Yunjin was the first to close the distance, her face mere inches from yours, eyes gleaming with playful intent. She lingered there, watching you carefully, waiting for any sign of hesitation—any crack in your resolve. Then, without warning, she shifted to your side, her lips brushing against your earlobe in a featherlight kiss.

"Do we make you nervous, Y/N?" she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as your mind scrambled for words. "Uhm… uhmm… uhh…" Every attempt at a response crumbled before it could form, leaving you stammering helplessly.

Yunjin let out a low chuckle, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She bit down on her lower lip, tilting her head slightly as she studied your flustered expression. "I guess that’s a yes," she mused, her voice laced with amusement and something deeper—something teasing, almost predatory.

Before you could even think of a way to recover, you felt her hand settle on your thigh. Her fingers, warm and deliberate, began tracing slow, featherlight circles against the fabric of your pants. The heat of her touch seeped through, sending an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"You’re so cute when you get all shy like this," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer. "It makes me wanna tease you even more…"

A chorus of soft giggles surrounded you as the other girls watched, their gazes filled with warmth and mischief. You could feel the heat of their presence pressing in from all sides, their bodies inching just a little closer, their touches lingering just a little longer.

"Let Yunjin do her thing," Chaewon purred, her voice soft but filled with unmistakable intent.

"But don’t worry," Kazuha added, her fingers trailing along your arm. "We’re all gonna take care of you."

Sakura smiled, her eyes dark with something unreadable. "We just want you to know how much we love and appreciate you… for everything."

Eunchae beamed up at you, her voice sweet but filled with anticipation. "So just relax, Y/N. Let us show you."

The air felt heavier now, charged with something undeniable. Your heart pounded in your chest as the warmth of their touches, their voices, their closeness—all of it—began to overwhelm you.

A shiver ran down your spine as Yunjin’s soft lips ghosted over your skin, trailing slow, delicate kisses from your neck to your jaw. Each touch sent warmth coursing through your body, the tenderness behind them making your heart pound even harder. By the time her lips finally brushed against yours, you could feel just how deliberate every movement was—gentle yet intoxicating, as if she wanted to savor every second.

Her hand drifted lower, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your torso before reaching the waistband of your pants. She toyed with the fabric, her touch featherlight yet teasing, making your breath hitch..

A knowing smirk curled on Yunjin’s lips as her fingers toyed with the waistband of your pants, her touch unbearably light. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, voice dripping with seduction, "Mmm… look at you. So eager, so sensitive. Are you this excited just for me, baby?"

I swallowed hard, my breath shaky as I felt the heat pooling in my body. “Y-Yunjin… what are you doing to me?” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with both nervousness and anticipation.

Yunjin pressed a finger against my lips, her eyes dark with amusement. "Shhh, no talking," she whispered, her voice dripping with sultry command. Her hand traced a slow, deliberate path downward, slipping beneath the waistband of my boxers. A sharp inhale left my lips as her fingers wrapped around my length, featherlight and teasing. She stroked me slowly, her touch agonizingly gentle, as if savoring the feeling. She captured my mouth in another kiss—this time even deeper.

She stroked me slowly—gentle enough to show they wanted to take care of me, yet firm enough to remind me that this was real. That this was happening. Every stroke sent a shiver down my spine, a moan slipping past my lips no matter how hard I tried to hold it back. The other girls watched intently, their eyes dark with desire, amusement flickering in their gazes as they took in the sight of me unraveling.

I swallowed hard, my voice shaky. “T-This feels… so—ah…“ I barely managed to get the words out before another moan escaped, my head tilting back as pleasure clouded my senses.

Yunjin chuckled, her breath warm against my ear. “You’re doing so well… just let yourself feel it, okay?”

Chaewon glanced up at me, her lips curling into a soft smile before letting her tongue trace along my length. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, Y/N,” she murmured between slow, lingering licks.

Yunjin chuckled beside me, her grip steady as she continued stroking me with that same intoxicating tenderness. “We want you to feel good,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Just let us take care of you Y/N, okay?”

I let out a shaky breath, my body already giving in to their touch. “I… I don’t even know what to say…” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Chaewon giggled, her fingers tracing small patterns along my thighs. “Then don’t say anything,” she cooed. “Be a good boy, Y/N.”

As Yunjin’s hand continued its slow, deliberate strokes—slick with Chaewon’s warmth—the other girls began peeling away their clothes, their eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration. My head felt light, completely lost in the overwhelming rush of sensations, my body surrendering to the warmth of their touches and whispers.

Sakura let out a soft giggle as she slipped her top off, her voice gentle and soothing. “You’re doing so well for us, baby… such a good boy.”

Kazuha ran a hand through her silky hair, eyes filled with admiration. “We’re so proud of you, Y/N. Just let go, okay? Let us take care of you.”

Eunchae playfully traced a finger down my chest, her smile sweet and reassuring. “You don’t have to think about anything, just feel us. You deserve all of this.”

Yunjin leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear as she tightened her grip just enough to make me whimper. “That’s right, baby… just be good for us. We’ve been waiting so long to love you like this.”

The intoxicating scent of liquor and lingering warmth of intimacy filled the room, wrapping around us like a haze. Every touch, every whispered praise, every lingering kiss was cherished by the girls—each of them taking their time, savoring the moment as they guided me through my first experience with nothing but love and devotion in their eyes.

As Yunjin’s strokes slowed to a stop, she gave my length one last squeeze before pulling away with a teasing smirk. Kazuha, who had been watching intently, gently moved Chaewon aside, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face as she spoke.

“You had your fun, unnie,” Kazuha murmured with a soft giggle. “But I think it’s time we show him just how much we’ve always wanted this… how much we’ve always wanted him.”

She turned her gaze to me, eyes filled with warmth and something deeper—something longing. She ran her fingers along my chest, tracing slow, delicate patterns as she leaned in, her lips barely ghosting over mine.

“You’ve been so good for us, Y/N,” Kazuha whispered, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Now… let me show you how it feels to be inside me—to finally be where you belong.”

The other girls watched closely, their eyes dark with affection and desire.

“Mm, he looks so cute when he’s flustered,” Sakura cooed, her voice like silk. “Don’t be nervous, baby.”

Yunjin let out a soft hum, tilting her head. “Just relax, love… let Kazuha show you how much we love you.”

Kazuha’s fingers trailed lower, her touch featherlight as she kissed me again—slow and deep, as if she wanted me to feel every ounce of her adoration.

As Kazuha shifted, she hooked her fingers around the lace of her panties, moving them to the side with a teasing slowness. Her eyes never left mine—soft yet filled with unspoken longing.

She positioned herself carefully, her breath hitching as she slowly sank down onto my cock. A shiver ran through both of us as I felt her warmth completely envelop me, drawing a deep moan from my lips.

Kazuha let out a soft gasp, her hands pressing against my chest for balance. “Oh… Y/N,” she whispered, her voice laced with both pleasure and affection. “You feel… so perfect inside me.”

The other girls watched with a mixture of adoration and excitement.

"That’s it, baby," Sakura purred, her fingers lightly tracing my jaw. "Let yourself feel everything… let her take care of you."

"You’re doing so well," Eunchae added sweetly, her eyes shining. "Such a good boy for us."

Yunjin smirked, her lips brushing against my ear. "Feels good, doesn’t it?" she murmured. "She’s been dreaming about this moment just as much as you have… we all have."

Kazuha let out a shaky breath as she started to move, her hands gripping my shoulders for support. “Just let go, Y/N,” she whispered, her lips grazing mine. “Let us love you the way you deserve.”

Kazuha’s movements were slow and deliberate at first, each roll of her hips filled with tenderness, as if she wanted me to feel every inch of her warmth. Her flexibility became evident with the way she moved—graceful, controlled, yet so intoxicatingly sensual.

As her pace quickened slightly, it wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was just enough to make me feel everything—every soft, wet, pulsing sensation inside her. My breath hitched, my hands instinctively finding her waist, gripping her gently as she took me deeper into her heat.

Kazuha let out a soft, breathy moan, her fingers tightening against my chest. “Mmm… Y/N… you fit so perfectly,” she whispered, her voice dripping with affection.

Chaewon brushed a hand through Kazuha’s hair, tucking loose strands behind her ear. “Take your time, Zuha,” she cooed. “Make him feel just how much we adore him.”

“You’re so good for us, baby,” Yunjin murmured, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Just relax… let her take care of you.”

Kazuha met my gaze, her lips curving into a sweet, breathless smile. “You like it, don’t you?” she asked, her voice filled with warmth. “Being loved by all of us like this?”

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers gently gripping Kazuha’s waist as she continued to move. “I… I love being with you all,” I murmured, my voice laced with both affection and pleasure. “Spending time with you, laughing with you… it’s always been special. But this—” I paused, swallowing hard as another wave of warmth enveloped me. “This feels so different… so intense.”

Kazuha’s movements didn’t stop, her soft, rhythmic motions sending shivers down my spine. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering near mine. “That’s because we love you,” she whispered sweetly. “And we want you to feel just how much.”

Eunchae ran her fingers through my hair, placing a lingering kiss on my temple. “That’s right, baby,” she cooed. “We’ve always wanted to show you just how precious you are to us.”

Sakura giggled softly from the side, her bare skin glowing under the dim light. “And you’re being so good for us, Y/N,” she praised. “Such a good boy to your 5 exclusive girlfriends.”

Kazuha moaned softly as she rolled her hips a little deeper, her fingers intertwining with mine. “So just let go,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Let us love you the way you deserve.”

Kazuha let out a soft moan as she felt me twitch inside her, her hands pressing gently against my chest as she slowed to a stop. She gazed down at me, warmth filling her eyes. “Not yet, sweetheart,” she murmured, brushing a few strands of hair from my face. “Let’s make this last.”

Turning her head, she signaled to Sakura and Eunchae. Without a word, Sakura crawled closer, her fingers delicately tracing my jaw before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re being so good for us,” she whispered against my skin.

Eunchae giggled, her touch featherlight as she ran her hand along my arm. “Hope you’re ready, Y/N…”

Kazuha slowly lifted herself from my cock, a quiet whimper leaving her lips before she leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek. “I’ll be right here,” she whispered.

My breath hitched as I looked up at Sakura and Eunchae. Their eyes were filled with love, their touches tender, and I could feel it—this wasn’t just desire. It was something much deeper. And the night was far from over.

Sakura and Eunchae shared a knowing glance before lowering themselves, their warm breaths ghosting over my sensitive skin. Their tongues flicked out, tracing slow, deliberate paths along my cock—one after the other, alternating between teasing licks and gentle kisses, as if savoring every inch of me.

A shudder ran through my body, my breath hitching as their slick touches sent waves of pleasure through me. Eunchae giggled, her fingers wrapping around my cock before pressing it against her cheek, her soft skin warm against me. “You’re so cute when you’re like this,” she murmured, flashing me an innocent smile that contrasted with the way her hand caressed me.

Sakura, still close, placed a kiss just above where Eunchae’s grip was, her lips barely brushing against my heated skin. “Such a good boy,” she whispered, her voice sweet and full of adoration. “You’re taking everything so well, letting us love you the way you deserve.”

Their words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, making it impossible to think, to do anything but surrender to their touch.

Eunchae’s touch was gentle yet reassuring as she guided my hands, placing them atop their heads with a sweet, encouraging smile. “Here,” she whispered, nuzzling against my thigh. “Hold onto us… don’t be shy.”

Her warmth, her voice—it all felt so comforting, even in a moment so intense. My fingers tangled into their soft hair, gripping just enough to feel them beneath my touch. They let out soft hums of approval before turning their attention back to my cock, their tongues meeting at my tip before slowly trailing down my length, taking their time to savor every inch.

I couldn’t help the moans that escaped me, my body trembling as they worshipped me with each slick stroke of their tongues. “F-Fuck…” I groaned, my voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by their devotion.

Eunchae giggled against me, the vibrations sending a shockwave through my core. “Mmm, we love hearing you like this,” she purred, her lips brushing against my sensitive skin. “Just let it all out, okay? We want you to feel everything…”

As Sakura and Eunchae continued their slow, sweet worship of my cock, Chaewon crawled closer, her presence undeniable as she straddled my face. Her breath was warm, her voice soft yet commanding as she ran her fingers through my hair.

“Be a good boy for me,” she whispered, her tone laced with affection and need. “You’ve been feeling so good, right? Now… return the favor.”

She lowered herself gently, her soaked pussy pressing against my lips. The scent of her arousal filled my senses, dizzying and intoxicating. My hands instinctively gripped her thighs, pulling her closer as I hesitantly flicked my tongue against her entrance.

Chaewon let out a shaky moan, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Mmm, that’s it,” she cooed, her hips rolling slowly. “Just like that… you’re such a fast learner.”

I kept working my tongue on Chaewon, each flick making her moan, her grip tightening as she held onto Yunjin and Kazuha for support. Her thighs trembled slightly, and I could feel her body reacting to every movement of my tongue.

“Mmm, just like that,” she breathed out, her fingers threading through my hair before tugging me closer. “I’m so wet for you, Y/N. You’re doing so good love.”

Her praise sent a rush of warmth through me, fueling my eagerness to please her. Every moan, every shaky breath she let out only made me want to hear more. I adjusted my movements, finding the spot that made her body jolt, and when I focused there, she gasped, her grip tightening.

“Fuck—keep going,” she whimpered, her voice dripping with pleasure. “You’re making me feel so good, baby.”

Chaewon’s grip on my hair tightened, her nails lightly scratching my scalp as her thighs trembled around my head. “I’m—ahh, I’m gonna—” Her voice broke into a desperate whimper, her breathing ragged as her body tensed. But I didn’t stop. If anything, the way she gasped and shuddered only pushed me to go harder, my tongue flicking and circling over her most sensitive spot, determined to pull her over the edge.

Her hips bucked instinctively against my mouth, her moans growing louder, more frantic. “Oh—Y/N—” she cried, her body finally giving in as her release crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clenched around my head, her entire body shaking as she came undone. I felt her sweetness coat my lips and chin, her taste intoxicating as I eagerly lapped up every last drop.

Chaewon’s body slumped forward, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Her fingers stayed tangled in my hair as she tried to steady herself, her thighs still quivering from the aftershocks. “F-Fuck…” she whimpered, her voice breathy and dazed. “You’re so good at this, baby…”

She finally let go, lifting herself slightly, her flushed face filled with satisfaction as she gazed down at me. “You really know how to take care of your girls, don’t you?” she teased, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk.

Yunjin’s fingers trailed up my chest, leaving a trail of warmth as she pressed me firmly against the wall. Her touch was confident, yet the way she looked at me—dark, filled with longing—held an unmistakable tenderness. She reached for the two shot glasses on the nearby table, handing me one before clinking it against hers. “Drink with me,” she whispered, her lips curling into a small, teasing smile.

I obeyed, the burn of the liquor spreading through my throat, mixing with the heat already simmering between us. Before I could fully process the sensation, Yunjin pulled me closer, her breath fanning against my lips. Slowly, she backed me up until my spine was flush against the wall. Her hands gripped my waist, her body pressing against mine, the space between us nonexistent.

“I want to try something a little different,” she murmured, her voice lower, more sultry. “I want to be a little rough with you this time… but don’t worry, baby. I’ll still be gentle. I’ll still show you just how much I love you.”

There was no hesitation in her movements as she lifted one leg, hooking it against the wall beside me, her flexibility on full display. Her other hand reached between us, wrapping around my cock—still slick from the attention Sakura and Eunchae had given me—guiding me to her entrance. I could feel the warmth of her pussy pressing against my tip, teasing me, coaxing me forward.

She didn’t take me in immediately. Instead, she took her time, rolling her hips forward just enough to let me feel the slick heat of her, dragging my length through her folds in slow, deliberate strokes. A breathy moan escaped her lips, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she looked at me again, pupils blown wide with desire.

“Look at me, Y/N,” she murmured, her voice soft but commanding, fingers gently cupping my jaw. “I want to see those pretty eyes when I take you.”

I swallowed hard, my head spinning—not just from the alcohol but from her, from the way she made me feel like the center of her universe. And then, finally, she sank down onto me, inch by inch, her warmth enveloping me in a way that had me gasping. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she let out a shaky breath, her body adjusting to mine, fitting together like we were meant for this.

Yunjin pressed her forehead against mine, her lips ghosting over my own as she whispered, “That’s it, baby. You feel so good inside me… just like I knew you would.”

As Yunjin continued to ride me, her movements slow yet deliberate, the other girls moved closer, surrounding us in a haze of warmth and desire. Their hands traced along her body, soft fingers caressing her skin as if worshipping the sight before them.

Chaewon was the first to lean in, her lips brushing against Yunjin’s shoulder before trailing up to the curve of her jaw. “You look so beautiful like this, unnie,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss just beneath Yunjin’s ear.

Sakura, never one to be left behind, tilted Yunjin’s chin toward her and captured her lips in a deep, sensual kiss. A quiet moan slipped from Yunjin’s mouth as their tongues tangled, the vibration of it sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. Her pace faltered for a moment, her walls clenching around me in response to the overwhelming sensations from all around her.

Kazuha and Eunchae weren’t far behind. Kazuha’s hands slid down Yunjin’s back, pulling her closer, while Eunchae placed teasing kisses along her collarbone. “You’re taking such good care of him, unnie,” Eunchae whispered, her voice filled with admiration. “We should reward you, don’t you think?”

Yunjin pulled away from Sakura’s kiss, her breath heavy as she looked down at me with dark, love-filled eyes. A teasing smile played on her lips as she cupped my face with both hands. “Looks like we all love you a little too much, baby,” she whispered, her hips rolling down onto me with a bit more pressure. “I hope you’re ready… because we’re not stopping until we’ve completely ruined you.”

Yunjin’s pace grew erratic, her body pressing even closer against mine as we both teetered on the edge. My breaths came in desperate pants, my grip on her tightening as my climax built up to an inevitable peak.

“I-I’m gonna cum…” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

The girls’ eyes sparkled with anticipation, their hands still tracing over my body, leaving kisses and love bites in their wake. But before anyone else could speak, Chaewon smirked and spoke up.

“Yunjin should have him first,” she declared, her tone soft yet decisive. “The rest of us will get our turns… but for now, let her feel everything.”

The others giggled, nodding in agreement. “Mmm, it’s only fair,” Kazuha purred, running her fingers along my chest. “We’ll just make sure he doesn’t forget about us after.”

Yunjin tightened her hold around my neck, pressing her forehead against mine. “That’s right… give it all to me, baby,” she whispered, her voice dripping with need. “I want to feel your cum completely… let me have all of you.”

With one last deep thrust, I came undone inside her, my entire body shuddering as I spilled deep into her warmth. Yunjin let out a breathy moan, her grip on me tightening as she trembled from the sensation.

“Mmm… so warm,” she murmured, biting her lip as she rocked her hips just a little more, as if savoring every drop. “You’re so deep inside me, baby… I can feel everything.”

Sakura let out a dreamy sigh as she pressed a soft kiss against my shoulder. “That was beautiful… but don’t think we’re done just yet.”

Kazuha giggled, her fingers gently tracing patterns on my chest as she leaned in closer. “So?” she purred, her voice like silk. “How was that for your first time?”

I let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to catch my breath. “That was… the best first experience ever,” I admitted, my voice laced with lingering pleasure.

Kazuha smirked, her eyes filled with mischief as she pressed a soft kiss against my jaw. “Good,” she murmured. “Because you still have four more pussies to fill up.”

As my breathing slowed, I felt the warmth of their bodies surrounding me. Yunjin traced soft patterns on my chest, pressing a lingering kiss to my jaw. Sakura pulled me into her arms, whispering sweet nothings as Chaewon stroked my hair. Kazuha giggled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "That was just the first round, you know."

I let out a tired chuckle, my body completely spent. "I don’t think I can even move right now…"

Eunchae playfully pouted, her fingers dancing across my skin. "Aww, but we’re not done showing you how much we love you."

The girls exchanged mischievous glances before snuggling closer, their hands still exploring, their lips pressing lazy kisses onto my flushed skin. Yunjin smirked, cupping my face gently. "You’re ours now, Y/N. Always."

I sighed, melting into their touch, my heart pounding—not just from what had happened, but from what was still to come.

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elvhensinner · 25 days ago

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Who in GFriend are you only fucking anally?

Of course Eunha. Look those soft pillows she have as cheeks. She was built to be fukeyin the ass.

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elvhensinner · 25 days ago

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Ryujin

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elvhensinner · 25 days ago

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Dreaming of Umji (Series)

—

Buy me a Ko-Fi.

Book commissions here.

—

Part 1 (Early access here)

Part 2 (Coming soon)

Part 3 (Coming soon)

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elvhensinner · 25 days ago

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Mina x Kazuha: BBC Beach Party

2.6k words Mina x Kazuha, BBC, interracial, public sex, beach sex, black male x asian female Part of my St Marius series, see my masterlist for more chapters like this one

Mina and Kazuha found themselves waking the next day to another blazing sun, glinting water, softly curling waves and a beach reflecting the light off every grain of sand. They kissed each other softly, Mina curling into Kazuha's warm body and nestling her head into her chest, Kazuha held her tightly and the two lay in bed until they felt it was time to get up.

They rummaged through their still unpacked suitcases full of clothes to find their swimwear, Mina pulling on a set of mint green short shorts with a matching bikini top that cupped her small breasts firmly and lifted them up. Kazuha put on a pair of black bikini bottoms and a matching black bikini top, the both of them walked barefoot down to the lobby with their towels and umbrellas in hand, wearing large sunhats as they felt the sand between their toes.

They set up near a palm tree further down the beach away from the crowds, laying out their towels and umbrellas. They smiled as they rubbed each other down with lotion and laid back in the early afternoon sun, its rays gently caressing them in warm light. After an hour or so it got a little too hot for the girls and they took shelter under the large colorful umbrellas, curling in each others arms on the warm sand for a nap in the shade while the tide gently licked at the shore.

Unknowingly they had slept the entire afternoon away, waking to their legs tangled together, Kazuha's head rested on Mina's chest with her arm draped over her torso. They were both sweaty, the heat had drenched them and they both sat upright gulping water from their bottles until it was nearly gone.

In the dim evening light fires burned in the distance, large ones, flames reaching high with loud music blaring out of some speakers somewhere. "Must be some party," Kazuha said, her arms wrapped around her knees as they groggily tried to get their minds to wake up again.

After a few minutes they packed up their beach towels and umbrellas, sleepily walking toward the resort when they passed by the bonfires and saw large groups of women and men dancing together, making out, groping each other and a few couples strewn about the sand on mats and towels looking like they were about to do something else.

The girls went wide eyed as they admired women of every race present, white, black, asian, latina, all of them gradually pairing up with some of the fittest black men they'd ever seen. They bumped into and grinded on one another, drunk not only on alcohol but on lust as the women figuratively and physically threw themselves at the men in desperate bids for attention.

"Should we come back?" Kazuha asked Mina with a smile as they stopped in their tracks to watch the scene unfolding before them. Heavy rap music played, lyrics booming across the beach about money and bitches as women grinded and shook their asses against hard BBC's in swim trunks and basketball shorts.

Fuck me harder!" Came a voice from behind a rock, Mina gasped and covered her mouth with a giggle as her and Kazuha watched a white woman with huge tits being fucked from behind, her blonde hair pulled back in a strong black hand with his hips pumping every inch of a painfully long and thick black cock into her. The bull obliged her, his hands gripping her hips and pumping her so hard she fell against the rock becoming pinned between its rough surface and the black man pounding away at her pussy.

She seemed helpless, her mouth wide open, hands clawing at cold stone with the light of the bonfire flickering across her face, moaning to the crowd as she was taken. "Oh my.." Kazuha said quietly, feeling herself becoming wet as she stared dumbly, only stopping when Mina gripped her hand and led her to the edge of the party where they set aside the umbrellas against a palm tree, taking only the towels with them.

"Let's have some fun tonight," Mina said, pulling Kazuha into the crowd with a wide gummy smile, running instantly into an available black bull that shoved coconuts filled with beer into their hands. "Drink! drink! drink!" He shouted teasingly, some nearby partiers joining in the chant until the girls pressed their lips to the beer filled coconut shells and tried their best to chug it all. Laughter erupted as Mina spilled some all over her chest, Kazuha finished hers with only a few drops dripping from her chin.

"Guess we gotta clean that up," said the black man with a grin, grabbing Mina by the waist and pulling her into him. He leaned down, kissing her neck until he reached her chest, his tongue left his mouth and began to lick her all over, down her navel to her belly button and playfully darting into it as he lapped at the spilled beer and dragged his tongue back up her soft tummy.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, Mina gasped and giggled at the touch of his lips and tongue all over her, gently kissing and cleaning her up. Kazuha smiled and stood behind her friend, wrapping her hands around her waist gently and swaying with the music as she pulled Mina's head back and licked her neck clean.

The bull finished with her abs and chest and rose to meet Kazuha's lips, the two mindlessly locking in a deep kiss that saw their tongues tangle together without hesitation. They made out with Mina between them, pressing her like sandwich meat against their bodies, she could feel Kazuha's toned abs and thighs and this bulls big semi-erect black cock pressed against her own abs, begging to be let loose.

They both kissed Mina all over her face, causing her to close her eyes and wince until she felt thick black lips press to her own fluffy Japanese ones. "Some fine bitches," he groaned, kissing them back and forth, his eyes widening when he watched the girls kiss each other, all three were now confident in where this was going to go and how it was going to end. In a show of strength he picked Mina up in his left arm and Kazuha up in his right, carrying them off to an area that was lit dimly enough to see by the resorts lights.

The girls set their towels down on the sand and admired his hunky body, caressing him all over and kissing his dark skin, taking turns kissing him on the lips and neck. He was engrossed in groping them all over, his large hands pulling their asscheeks up and releasing them to feel them jiggle, giving them playful slaps as they kissed. He felt his shorts drop and kicked them away without care, his massive 9 inch black cock sprung free and stood erect and strong between the girls, his hands found the top of their heads and pushed them downward to their knees.

Mina and Kazuha felt their eyes glaze over with lust, kissing his fat black shaft and stroking him, Kazuha took his balls into her mouth and tongued them tenderly while letting them fall from her mouth with a pop over and over. Mina wrapped her lips around his swollen head, her eyes looked up at his as she struggled to fit much of it in, both her hands stroking him desperately as his wrapped around her head and began to forcefeed her black cock until it touched her throat.

Mina gagged and coughed up spit around his hard shaft, he groaned deeply and muttered "aaahh yea bitch, that's the shit," as Kazuha slurped on his balls and wrapped her lips around the side of his shaft to help her friend pleasure him more. His package was already dripping in spit, Kazuha had slobbered all over his balls and Mina kept gagging copious amounts onto the shaft, every inch was a shining mess of ebony flesh and godly erection.

Mina pulled off his cock and Kazuha took her place, sucking more than her friend could deep into her throat until she too was gagging and had to pull back. She felt his hands on her head holding her in place, gagging on it as he pumped her with short and quick thrusts into her throat. "Fuck yea, nasty asian whores," he said down to them, admiring how much spit was dripping off both their chins and down their chests.

He throated them back and forth for a few minutes as people walked by, undoubtedly on their way to do the same thing, pretty girls locking arms with tall black bulls. "I want him inside me," Kazuha moaned in Japanese to her friend as they both pressed lips together on his dripping cockhead. Mina smiled and kissed her deeply, laying her back and pulling her bikini bottom off, spreading her friends legs wide for their bull.

He stroked himself as he got on his knees and lined up with Kazuha's tight asian pussy, his head mashing against the lips to tease her until he slipped it in and multiple inches disappeared in an instant. His hips began to do their thing, met with moans of approval from the slut he was now deep inside of.

Mina laid down beside her, kissing her neck, cheek and shoulders as this bull took her, they didn't even know his name and he was sliding right into her without even a thought about condoms or protection. "Fuck yea you tight pussy bitch," he groaned down to her, wrapping a strong hand around Kazuha's throat, his hips now bucking into her deeply, bottoming out inside her pussy while she screamed and felt every thought in her mind disappear.

Her back arched and her chest heaved, her hand gripping Mina's tightly as she felt the big black cock stretch her and pump deep into her cunt. "He's so big," she moaned to Mina, staring into her eyes before she turned to the bull and wrapped her other hand around his muscular forearm.

She felt him slowing down after a few minutes, his hips losing the vigor they had at first, so she used her own to ride him from below, her legs around his waist pulling herself up and her hips did the rest, riding his fat black dick while he remained still. "Ah fuck!" He shouted, clearly impressed as she milked him hard, her athletic ballet body using every muscle she could, her head pressed into the towel and soft sand beneath, up on her shoulders with her legs clinging to his waist.

"Aahhh!" She moaned loudly, his cock was so big and her clit rubbed his abs, she couldn't hold back and began to squirt all over him, coating him in a thick orgasm as he fucked her back. "Yeeeeaaa, that's it bitch, cum on that black dick, who's your fuckin' daddy?" He said down to her, pinning her body to the sand as he broke her and she went blank. She didn't know much English, but knew enough to moan back "daddy," in a lustful voice, her legs finally relaxing and falling to his sides as he pumped slowly.

"Your turn, hot bitch," he said, grabbing Mina roughly and yanking her shorts off, he pulled her on top of her friend, setting her on all fours above Kazuha before slapping her soaked Jap cunt with his slippery black bull dick. "Fuckin' gonna get so deep in your fine pussy," he groaned, slapping Mina's ass before pushing forward and driving his cock into her until it bottomed out on the first thrust. Mina screamed into the open night, Kazuha wrapped her arms around her and held her so she was face down into her chest with her big hips in the air.

"He's so big," Mina moaned with a smile to Kazuha, "I told you," she cooed back gently, stroking her friends hair as she moaned. The bull began to pump her deeply, his long dick nearly falling out of her pussy with every thrust before it re-penetrated her and bottomed out. He fucked her like a machine, pumping her with piston-like rhythm, his pace never let up with his big hands around her waist to hold her in place.

She moaned, screaming atop her friend as they occasionally kissed to quiet her down, his black cock felt like too much, she felt stretched to her limits, like her body would break on any thrust. Her wet pussy loudly engulfed him with every thrust, his black hips pounded into her loudly, her whole body shook in Kazuha's arms and she clenched her teeth with deep growling moans until her mouth fell wide open and turned to silent screams. In Japanese she moaned, "fuck me, fuck me, breed me!" To him, he continued pumping, pounding her deeply, she threw her ass back on him without even thinking about it, she needed him to cum inside her.

"Fuck bitch, fuck!" He yelled, feeling his nut building, it was only made harder to hold back when he felt Mina squirt on his balls and thighs without warning, Kazuha palming her pussy hard until it subsided. Both girls beneath him were now beat and totally submissive, moaning in pleasure to each other as his balls ached, they begged for release, to flood this slut with his potent black seed.

"I'm gonna fuckin' cum!" He shouted, both girls knew what he meant, kissing each other deeply as he pulled out and stroked himself. His black cock erupted in seconds, rope after thick pearly rope shot out across Mina's ass and back, he groaned and moaned holding back a couple more, shoving his black dick right back into her and pumping the last of his cum deep into her pussy.

He pulled back out and gathered up a load of cum with his cockhead, now dripping in his own seed as he positioned himself to slip back into Kazuha, feeding her loud, wet and messy pussy a thick load of black cum. "Ah fuck, that's the shit," he said, panting as his floppy cock throbbed out the last drops of nut into Kazuha, kissing Mina on the cheek as Mina kissed Kazuha and both turned to kiss him, all three tongues pressed together chuckling and moaning.

The bull slapped both their asses, pulling his shorts back on and standing up. "Got more bitches to fuck, be seeing you sluts around," he said and walked away wiping the sweat from his forehead and chest. Kazuha climbed out from under Mina and kept her on all fours, her tongue dragging across her back to lap up what black nut didn't get into either of their pussies. With all of it collected in her mouth she sat on her knees and motioned for Mina to do the same, they embraced and kissed deeply, swapping black cum in their mouths back and forth for a couple minutes before collapsing on the towels in a giggling mess.

After a while they made it up to their hotel room wearing nothing but their towels to cover up, throwing the towels into the hamper and umbrellas away in the corner they climbed into bed and tangled together once again, kissing, caressing and cuddling as they listened to the party outside slowly taper off sometime in the night knowing everyone must have had their fill.

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elvhensinner · 25 days ago

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IU caught for a crime, reluctantly fucked & bukkake by the cops while handcuffed at the station and walk through paparazzi drenched in cum after her release

May 16, 2025

(IU) word count: 3664 words

"Wake up."

Jieun stirs awake as an unfamiliar voice reaches her ears. It takes her a moment to gain full consciousness. She's trying to remember where she is, because whatever she's lying on, it's definitely not her bed.

Her eyes slowly start to open, but the bright light from the ceiling forces them shut again. It takes Jieun a second try, but now she can see most of her environment. Her eyes grow wide when she sees someone standing only a couple of meters away. And it seems he and Jieun are separated by metal bars. She's definitely not at home.

"Where am I?"

The sleepiness now quickly leaves her mind, but when she tries to lift her head, an excruciating pain threatens to burst her scull. Jieun groans and she can barely think straight. What the hell happened last night?

"At the police station."

She hears a key opening a lock. The metal bars in front of the man start to move.

"Get up."

Usually Jieun would be upset with someone being so rude with her. But realization hits her like a truck. What did she do to wake up in a police station? She can't remember what happened last night. Nothing at all. Her head hurts so bad as she tries to slowly get up. Did she drink too much last night? But why would she be here then?

Jieun stumbles to her feet and the man has to grab her arm to stop her from falling.

"Follow me."

The walk through the police station feels like a dream to her. Eventually, the two of them reach an interrogation room.

Jieun sits down on the first chair she sees, her head still spinning. She feels the man grab both her arms and a moment later she hears the click of handcuffs. She looks down on herself in disbelief.

"What? What is this for?"

She's still fighting through the fog of sleepiness and hangover as the man sits down on the other side of the table.

"I'm detective Lee. And you're Lee Jieun. Is that correct?"

Jieun nods, still waiting for an answer to her question.

"Last night you got arrested for public indecency."

"Public what?"

Jieun furrows her eyebrows.

"Indecency?"

"Yes. The official report says that you undressed at a restaurant and started to dance naked on a table."

Jieun's cheeks heat up in embarrassment. That couldn't be her, right? Why would she do something like that? She was drunk before, but she never got naked in public or anything.

When IU looks down on herself she realises she isn't wearing her dress from last night either. Just a red turtle neck that is way too big for her. She can tell she's wearing panties, but otherwise she is naked underneath. No bra, no pants, nothing.

"A-And what am I supposed to do now?"

She watches detective Lee lean back in his chair. His eyes seem wander across her body, until he finally answers.

"Well, your case will be brought before a judge and he or she will determine your sentence."

"O-Okay. And what kind of sentence could that be?"

"A huge fine. Or...up to one year in jail."

Jieun feels like her heart skips a beat. Jail? For something she doesn't even remember? For something like being naked in public? Her career and her life flashes past in front of her eyes. That would be the end of her.

"N-No! I can't go to jail!"

Her voice rises as she starts to panic.

"It's okay, it's okay."

The detective rests a hand on hers to calm her down.

"There is an alternative."

Jieun almost sighs in relief, thinking she can avoid such a sentence. But the detective's smirk quickly destroys her hopes.

"What-What kind of alternative?"

She asks hesitantly, although she isn't sure if she even wants to hear it. She glances at the man's hand on hers, which is now gently caressing her skin.

"You do me a favor and I let you go. No evidence, no trial, no sentence."

Goosebumps form on IU's skin as she thinks about it for a second. She definitely understood that he's expecting a favor in a sexual sense. But is it worth it? Is it worth her career, her freedom? Maybe...

Her thoughts run wild as she tries to choose. Of course she doesn't want to do anything sexual with a random guy. But then again, she can't go to jail. It would ruin her career and her life. Maybe he isn't even asking for much? Maybe just a handjob or something?

"W-What kind of favor?"

Her voice is weak as shame rushes through her body. The detective's smile grows wider.

"Oh fuck. You have such a nice pussy."

The man behind Jieun groans in pleasure. She's bent over the desk, her hands still in handcuffs while she's getting fucked from behind.

"You're so tight and warm. Just amazing."

She doesn't even know the man's name, but he's buried deep inside her pussy. Detective Lee left a while ago after using Jieun's mouth and pussy himself. After him a couple of more guys came in one after the other and left. If she counted correctly, this guy is currently the sixth man who is taking her pussy today. The sixth stranger. A police officer she has never seen before.

"Fuck, I bet you love getting fucked by one cock after another, don't you?"

He's definitely the most vocal out of all the guys so far, but Jieun doesn't mind. As degrading as it is, his voice at least covers her pathetic moans. And it's not wrong what he's saying. She's embarrassed to admit this to herself, but Jieun is starting to get into this.

She feels his cock thrusting in and out of her, his hips snapping against her ass while he holds onto both her shoulders to pull her back against him. She can tell he's close by the way his cock is pulsating inside her pussy. For a moment, Jieun is afraid he might cum inside her unprotected cunt. But it seems like all the guys seem to have talked to each other. Like the other police officers before him, he pulls out of her and walks around the table. With his hand in her hair, he forces Jieun's face closer to his cock. She watches him stroke his cock a couple of times as his groans grow louder.

"You're such a slut. Using your body to get out of jail."

Then he finally cums all over Jieun's face, adding to the loads that are already sticking to her skin. She can't help but let out a moan of pleasure as she feels his hot cum paint her face. She has her eyes closed to make sure that nothing gets into them. But when she opens them again, she hears the click of the door. The man who just came on her face already left.

Barely a minute later, the door opens again. Jieun turns around, hoping to see detective Lee. Is she finally done? Is she free to go now?

To her dismay, it's not him. Another man in uniform steps into the room while already taking care of his belt. Her eyes follow him as he walks closer. Standing right in front of her, he takes out his cock and starts to stroke it.

"You look so sexy with cum on your face."

He almost laughs as he takes her chin in one hand and guides her mouth towards his cock.

"Wouldn't mind watching you perform on TV like this."

Even more embarrassment rushes through Jieun's system as his cock parts her lips. It's degrading enough to have all these officers cum on her face. She can't even imagine what it must feel like to perform on a music show with her face covered like this. Everyone would think she's a slut.

Jieun continues to imagine herself dancing with cum on her face as the man starts to fuck her mouth. His hands on either side of her head keep it in place while he thrusts in and out of her. She feels his tip brush against the back of her mouth with every other stroke and soon Jieun is starting to gasp for air. With detective Lee it was more like a blowjob than full on fucking her face. But now the man in front of her uses her mouth like a toy. Soon, he seems to have become fully hard, which makes it even harder to take all of him in. His cock is now making her struggle as her jaw starts to hurt due to being forced open like this.

"What a mouth. No wonder you're a singer."

He groans, one of his hands moving to grab a fistful of her hair. She feels him starting to loose control. His rhythm breaks and his deep powerful thrusts turn into quick, shallow pumps. But before he cums down her troat, he retreats, stepping back until his tip is only barely resting on her lower lip.

"If your pussy is only half as good as your mouth..."

He doesn't finish the sentence, too captivated by the sight of his cock finally falling out of her mouth. It's fully covered in Jieun's saliva, her spit glistening in the bright light. She glances down at it, the feeling of his length still lingers in her mouth.

"You like to get fucked that bad, huh?"

Jieun hesitates, but then nods quickly. She has to admit this to herself. As degrading and shameful it is, it's hot to have her holes used by one man after another. The fact that they're are all police men only heightens her arousal. She can feel herself getting into it. She can feel her pussy getting wet in anticipation as she watches him walking around the table. Still bent over, she loses sight of him once he stands behind her. She's holding her breath now, waiting for what is about to come.

To Jieun's surprise it's not his cock, but a hard slap on her right ass cheek. She yelps in surprise and shock. The slap makes her cheek sting. Another one to her left cheek. She gasps, the split second of pain leaving her breathless. Then she feels his cock rubbing against her wet folds. She catches herself slightly backing up. Her own arousal continues to rise. And when he finally thrusts inside of her for the first time, Jieun feels like she just crossed a new threshold. Most of the shame and embarrassment leave her as she takes his pounding. Instead of just being silently and passively bent over the table, she now lets out a needy

"Oh my god."

as she pushes back against him. Her small body starts to move in the same rhythm as his own, enabling him to penetrate her pussy even further.

"Fuck, you're such a tight little slut, aren't you?"

Another slap to her cheeks makes Jieun gasp before she can answer.

"Yes, sir."

A mewl escapes her lips after she says those two words. The thought of submitting to his authority as a police man has her dripping. Instead of spreading her legs wide, he is holding them together, which makes his cock feel even bigger inside of her. Jieun's thighs rub together as well, adding even more pleasure to her system.

"It's so good."

Another moan escapes her lips and the man behind her reaches forward to grab a fistful of her hair once more. Her loose bun is a complete mess by now, but she doesn't care at all. The most important thing right now is his cock. She lets out moan after moan as he continues to fuck her. Jieun is starting to ask for more, while the man behind her starts to get rougher with her. His hand is tightly holding onto her hips, while the other now reaches for her peach colored panties, which are lying next to her on the table.

"Open wide, little slut."

Jieun obeys his order, without thinking. He stuffs her panties into her mouth and then holds onto her bun once more.

"Fuck, you look even better with your mouth full."

He gives her ass a couple of slaps again, which makes Jieun moan into her panties. She can taste a little bit of herself, while he continues to thrust in and out of her pussy. The peach colored cloth is partially dangling out of her mouth and swinging to the rhythm of her getting fucked. She feels him trying to get even deeper and deeper inside of her, trying to make her pussy take all of his cock. In the process he's pushing her further onto the table, until she's almost lying on it.

"I don't think I can stop fucking this tight little cunt of yours."

He groans as he picks up her left leg and puts it on the table as well.

"Oh god!"

Jieun shouts through her panties as he now pushes deeper into her than ever before. His entire cock is now properly buried inside of her. He starts to slap her cheeks again too, making them sting. The mixture of pleasure and pain soon prove to be too much for her. Jieun's small body starts to shake and jerk on top of the table. She never expected to ever cum from being fucked by strangers. But here she is now. Jieun is climaxing on the table in the interrogation room as one of the police men makes her take his cock as deep as possible. Her moans and whines are mostly muffled by her panties, but they're still clearly audible.

"You love cuming on my dick, don't you?"

The man behind her groans. Jieun's pussy tightly squeezing his dick steers him towards his own orgasm as well. He fucks her even harder once he notices he can't hold on for much longer. His hands use her small ass cheeks as handles as he drives his cock into her cunt again and again.

Jieun expects him to pull out when she feels him pulsating inside of her. But instead, he buries himself as deep as possible inside her throbbing pussy. A gasp of surprise barely makes it past her panties as she feels him filling her pussy to the brim with his cum.

"Good girl."

He leans over her as he makes sure that her walls drain every last drop of his cum.

"You're a great cum dump."

He kisses her sweaty neck. Jieun feels him pulling out of her. Slowly his cock drags along her slick walls. Once she's empty again, she feels some of his cum escape her pussy and run down her legs. He gives her ass a final smack and then gets dressed and leaves her lying on the table.

Jieun tries to catch her breath. She is spread out on the cold surface, the bunched up turtleneck just barely covering her ass. The man's cum is leaking onto the table, while she just waits for the next person to claim her pussy. She hears the door open again and feels her body react to the sound with silent anticipation. When the next person stands in front of her, she finally manages to look up.

"Detective Lee."

She tries to say, but Jieun's mouth is still stuffed with her panties.

He enjoys the view of her lying on the table, totally spent, before he finally says something.

"I've got some good news and some bad news."

Jieun glances down at his crotch when she notices him gently cupping his cock through his pants.

"The good news is that the deadline of your release papers is over soon, so we have to let you go in around 20 minutes."

Now he undoes his belt, while he continues to talk. His eyes glued to her slightly pink ass cheeks.

"The bad news is, there are around 10 more officers outside, waiting for their turn."

Jieun takes a couple of moments to take the hint. She understands what he is insinuating.

"What-"

She tries to speak, but her panties keep her quiet.

"Let's hurry up a little."

Detective Lee's last words had a bit more volume to them and are followed by several pairs of footsteps.

Jieun swallows heavily as she feels several men entering the room at once. She can still only see the detective, but she knows that everyone is looking at her. For a second, the room is completely silent. Then everyone begins to get rid of their pants.

Five minutes later, Jieun feels like the world is spinning out of control. She's now lying on her back still on the table. Someone is holding onto her thighs while he's pounding deep into her cum filled pussy. She feels two men sharing her mouth, not caring if she's constantly gagging and choking. Her hands are still cuffed together, but her arms are reaching upwards. Two men are kneeling on the table, one on either side. They're basically fucking her hands, while Jieun does her best to stroke their cocks. Five more men are currently standing in the background, all touching themselves to the sight of Jieun getting used in any way possible.

She doesn't even notice that her panties have gone missing, because the cocks in her mouth still stop her from talking. Or breathing for that matter. The man thrusting into her pussy is digging his fingernails into her thighs, making her squirm on the flat surface. A couple of thrusts later, he's replaced by the next guy. The new man inside of her places a finger on her clit and starts to rub it in the rhythm of his thrusts.

Jieun becomes a broken, filthy mess in record time. Her eyes are barely open as the pleasure that flows through her system overwhelms her. The men using her hands have to hold her arms up, because her muscles are already sore.

For a second, she gets a breath of fresh air, before another pair of police men stuff her mouth with their cocks. Jieun can't tell how long it has been since detective Lee came in. Five minutes? 10 minutes? She's sure that she can't take it for much longer. Her pussy starts to feel sore as well after being fucked by almost a dozen different men in one day.

Jieun suddenly flinches when she feels someone reach underneath her turtleneck. His fingers pinch her nipples, sending even more pain into her body. She can't tell who it is though. Her entire body becomes their personal sex toy.

"Time is up."

A sigh of relief leaves Jieun's body as she hears detective Lee's voice. She knows she was close to loosing her mind. Although, a small part of her is disappointed that it's over now. She feels one man after another letting go of her body.

"Get up."

A pair of hands lift her tired body off the table. Jieun finds herself kneeling on the floor as she opens her eyes fully again. She realizes she's surrounded by the ten men who used her body mere seconds ago. And it quickly dawns on her what's going to happen next. All of them are stroking their cocks while looking down on her. And Jieun has just enough time to close her eyes again as the first load already hits her face. She can't tell who it was, or where it came from. But the stranger's sticky cum warms the skin on her face. The next load mostly hits her forehead. The next officer aims at her closed eyes. Jieun feels his heavy load weigh down on her eyelids.

She takes the other eight loads of cum as well, silently kneeling inside the ring of ten police officers. She eventually hears them all walk out of the room again. Except for detective Lee.

"Get up. Your manager is waiting outside."

She scrambles to her feet, her eyes slowly start to open, but the weight of several loads of cum forces them shut again. It takes Jieun a second try, but now she can see most of her environment.

"Your dress."

He hands her the dress she must've worn last night and motions for her to walk out of the interrogation room. She's only wearing the oversized turtleneck, which she only realizes when she's standing in the front door of the precinct.

"Wait, my panties..."

Detective Lee just laughs and gives her a gentle nudge. Jieun stumbles outside the building, her tired body barely keeping her standing. Then suddenly she goes blind as cameras start to flash. Raw horror creeps up her spine as Jieun is standing in front of the precinct, face covered in cum, only wearing an oversized turtleneck, her elegant dress bunched up into a lump of white cloth in her arms while reporters take picture after picture.

She tried to get out of jail and to protect her career. But here she is now, knowing that she's ruined. In more ways than one. With shaking legs and head hanging low, Jieun makes her way towards her manager's car. She can't even feel shame anymore. It's all about her career being over. Probably.

She opens the door of the car and quickly gets inside. When she turns to her manager, wanting to ask for something to clean her face with, she sees him staring at her. Her gaze moves lower. Her breath hitches when she sees that his cock is out and he is slowly stroking it.

"Just once, please? I always wanted to know how it'd feel like to-"

He doesn't even get to finish the sentence. Jieun can still hear the shutter of the cameras and the chatter of the reporters outside of the car as she leans over and wraps her lips around her manager's cock. Her career is ruined anyway. Might as well have some fun while she watches it all collapse.

----------------

Happy IU day everyone!

I hope you guys enjoy this small fic. Thanks for waiting so patiently for me.

Stay healthy!

470 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 28 days ago

Text

Deadly Sin

Huh Yunjin x M! Reader

Word Count: 3.7 K

Masterlist

A/N: Hi, it's me again. This time took me less to comeback. Don't remember who asked me if I could rewrite this story from my last Kinktober, the thing is that I did it. Got a good idea of what to do with the story so changed a few things that imo make it better but also different. But I'm sure you gonna like it. I not gonna say more so hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think about this story.

It was no secret to anyone that a lot of people thought that the most beautiful and attractive feature on Yunjin’s face were her lips. Isn't like anyone could doubt her beauty, her face is almost angelic, but her lips have something special that makes you have that kind of impure thought no one should have at a church. Not to mention that you were having thoughts about that completely out of place thing with the image of no other than the Pastor's daughter.

Well, to be honest this was more than just your imagination. Oh boy, of course this was more than simple thoughts. Because as the cliche dictamined, the Pastor's daughter of your local church was filthy and rebellious. She was so far from the angelic girl everything thought she was that is like she has two different personalities.

One was the good daughter that made everything their parents say, and was always at the church on sunday. On the other hand was the girl who escaped through her window at midnight to go to a random party, get drunk, and maybe even do a little more.

Now you two were doing one of the most sacrilege things you had ever done. You were sitting in Mr Huh's chair, at his office, with your pants and boxer around your ankles, and your hard dick covered in Yunjin's saliva.

The angelic Huh Yunjin was kneeling in front of you. Dressed in her white and pristine dress, with her hair styled in two braids tied with white laces made of silk. This was her outfit for the sunday service that her dad was about to give, but you two were taking care of another more important thing. Your sex drive.

Yunjin was kneeling at a church, yes, but she was far from praying. She was doing something more unholy than that. Yunjin had one of her hands around the base of your dick, making small movements to masturbate you. And engulfing the rest of your stiff shaft with her wet mouth. The experience of having her perfect and beautiful lips around your meat was glorious, either was the amount of saliva she was putting on this.

Your dick was completely covered with her saliva, till the point some was dropping over her hand, making it easier for her to stroke your dick. Also she was putting a lot of effort on practically sucking your soul out of your penis. Isn't that you have a lot of experience but for you it seems like Yunjin deserves some kind of award for her technique and expertise doing this. For her magnificent demonstration of how to suck a dick.

Some rumors have flown to your ears about your girlfriend sucking other people's cocks at those parties she frequently sneaks to, but you seriously can't be mad about that. Who are you to private the world from that wonderful experience? Also maybe that's the way she became so good at this. So it is a win-win situation for everyone. She have fun and gets to sharps her abilities, and then you two can have a good time together.

Not to mention that as a good church girl Yunjin was saving her virginity for her future husband, so her pussy was totally off limits to you. Not even to a single touch.

But you were more than happy to wait for more action if in the meantime you were receiving those incredible sloppy blowjobs from her. Also eating her ass, or doing other things to it, didn't count as actual sex according to your way of seeing things. So that was a little bit of motivation for you to turn a blind eye on those rumors.

The way Yunjin cheeks were hollowed to increase both of your pleasure, and how her tongue drew impossible shapes on your tip. Or how she retired her hand sometimes to engulf your entire length till the point her nose was touching your pelvis, all that was driving you crazy. Oh dear Lord! Even her throat was trained to give you the maximum pleasure during those moments, and you knew she enjoyed the power she had over you. Because after all these incredible sessions you always received her wet underwear as a last special treat. As the confirmation that she was enjoying this too.

Another incredible thing about your girlfriend, is that she loves being at the service with nothing to prevent her flooded pussy from getting exposed than her cute white dress. Just that piece of fabric covering her most sacred body part for the view of everyone.

“I- I Am clooose.” You managed to say while she was putting special effort on digging with her tongue on your urethral opening. Her response was taking off her hand from your base and without warning engulfing your entire length. The things her throat was doing to your glans were indescribably pleasurable, and by the way she was holding the gaze staring directly at your eyes you immediately knew what she wanted. Because that look could only mean one thing.

“Here?” You asked not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Yunjin didn't respond immediately. She continued bowing her head over your member, sucking you while looking into your eyes. You patiently waited until she got your dick out of her mouth. “Has been weeks since the last time.” She said in the tone a little girl would use when denied candy, but using the back of her hand to wipe away the excess saliva around her lips.

“Are you sure-sure? We don’t have much time.” Obviously you were going to give in to her request, but you need to be sure she understands what that implies.

“We always can say I wasn’t feeling well and you were helping me.” As if it were a routine for her to discuss things while sucking your dick. Yunjin gets your tip in her mouth and sucks it vigorously for a few seconds before speaking again. “Daddy never gonna suspect her good daughter is lying.”

That was true, her dad is so sure Yunjin isn’t capable of doing something out of the rules. He is blinded by his beliefs and only can see her daughter as some kind of saint that came to this world to spread kindness and good actions. But the thing is that you two have been deceiving him for the better part of two years.

You've touched almost every inch of Yunjin's skin. The only part of Pastor Huh's daughter you haven't yet desecrated is her vulva; other than that, they've had no qualms about doing such unholy things. But since Yunjin still retains her virginity, her purity remains intact. Besides, you're not technically "Laying" together, so there's nothing to worry about.

Because if Yunjin gives you a blowjob in the parking lot behind the church, hidden among the vehicles, before the service, it doesn't count. Or if you eat her ass when you sneak into her room through the windows. Or if you do anything other than stick your cock in her cunt, then it doesn't count as sin; and in the unlikely event that that's the case, you both repent during the service. Nothing a good "amen" can't wash away.

“But we still have to do it quickly.” Yunjin was already taking off her panties, and as you could see when she reached it to you, the garment was already wet. Was a simple plain white pantie, with a wet patch in the front where her juices are weather tha fabric. All that wetness in Yunjin’s crotch just by giving you a blow job here.

You take her underwear and smell it, the aroma was fantastic but something even better was the taste. Licking her wet underwear is the only way you have to taste her pussy, eating those scrums is all you can have of her juices. You don’t know if she tastes wonderful because she actually does it, or because you are privated from eating her cunt and getting her nectar all over your face. Anyways, the thing is that the taste of her juices work as an aphrodisiac over you, clearing all your doubts about what she’s asking for.

“Ok. Desk or floor?” You ask carefully folding Yunjin’s underwear and putting it, with a lot of work, in your poked. Would be a total tragedy if Mr Huh finds his daugther’s dirty underwear in his office.

“Desk. Don’t wanna get bruises on my knees.” Your girlfriend is already positioning herself. She leans over her father’s desk, a beautiful marble surface with gold applications, sticking her ass out for you; but doing nothing to get her dress out of the way. “Be careful with my dress too.” That means you have to lift her clothes, and when you do it a wonderful view welcomes you.

Yunjin´s ass is small but well shaped, with pale and soft cheeks. Her thighs are meaty but without getting to be disproportionate to her body, very soft as well. Her wrinkle and brown anus is slightly visible in this position, but what is getting all your attention is her pretty pussy. Yunjin’s cunt is light brown, just a few tones darker than her skin, making a contrast with the paleness of her ass. Her lips are puffy and you can see them glistening with her own arousal, so wet that she’s almost dripping. Beyond her delicate labia you can see the fluff of her natural hair growing freely as your girlfriend's pussy remains untouched, so she at most trims her pubic hair to maintain it under control.

You drop to your knees behind her and spread her cheeks with both hands. Now her anus is fully on display for you, wrinkle and beautiful. “Our dear Heavenly Father, we thank thee for this food.” You whisper before kissing your girlfriend anus. She giggles as you dive into her rear, but let you do.

Obviously her taste is wonderful. Fresh cleaned, with a scent that has nothing to do with an ass. Obviously Yunjin cleaned herself and applied some perfume beforehand, and that let you know she was planning this. You love eating her sweaty ass, but you don't mind getting some change for once.

Your tongue traces circles around Yunjin’s anus, working to coat every angle with saliva. Taking special care to not go anywhere near her pussy. You can't see how your girlfriend is biting her lower lip and how her eyes are close, but by the way her anus is pulsating you know how much she's enjoying this. Also you can smell the scent of her cunt, you know she's already dripping.

“Noooo be careful.” Yunjin said, slurring her words and patting your head when your chin accidentally brushed near her pussy.

"Sorry. I'll be more careful." You return to work immediately after saying that. Your angel's anus can't be left unattended, not when she offers to you her delicious rear entrance to eat as your personal manna.

Her pussy aroma is driving you crazy. Yunjin is dripping and you're dying to gather her arousal with your tongue, to eat her pretty vulva. You're like a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert, who has an oasis in front of him but is denied to drink any water. So you dive into her ass, coating her rim with saliva and massaging the sensitive spot with your tongue.

Yunjin is doing her best to not make any noise that could potentially drive the attention from someone outside. You're in the pastor's office so that place is normally quiet, and for your luck people in the church are being very noisy today. Maybe this is a gift from heaven, a blessing to your “not so holy” activities.

You push the tip of your tongue and her anus opens for you. You don't have much time so you go as deep as you can at the first try, caressing the insides of Yunjin's pulsating anus.

God, this meal is so good. As much as you are dying to taste her pussy, that is like a forbidden apple to you, you love eating your girlfriend's ass. No matter if she's sweaty and has a more pungent aroma, or if she's totally clean and smelling like spring. No matter what, her taste is always delicious.

Your tongue explores the inside of her rectum as far as you can go. You put in Yunjin's ass as much saliva as she put before in sucking your dick, after all that's all the lube you have available. You make sure your girlfriend's asshole is completely coated in your saliva before sticking your tongue out and admiring your work.

In fact her asshole is drenched in your saliva, so much that some is dripping to her swollen pussy lips and mixing with her own arousal. That confirm that your girlfriend is ready to be fucked in the ass. So no more playing and wasting time, now you have to do what she asked for.

“Are you done eating my ass?” By the tone of her voice you could tell Yunjin is growing impatient, too much waiting and not enough action. No matter how pleasant and good getting her ass eaten feels, that isn't what she prepared for. She took you to her father's office looking for another kind of action.

“So demanding. That's the kind of greed you dad talked about in his last service.” You hold one of her cheeks spreading it, and with your other hand you align the tip of your dick with her rear entrance.

“It's not greed.” Yunjin protests as your tip presses her rim open. “Has been a long time since I've felt you inside. It's your duty to take care of meee-” Maybe you went too fast inside of her, but you know Yunjin never gonna complain unless it really hurts. Not being the good and needy girl she's.

Your girlfriend presses her thighs together, separates her feet, and lets her weight rest on her stomach and, consequently, on her dad's desk. You know she's never going to touch herself where she needs it most because that's a sin. She only touches her pussy to clean herself; she never touches it to get pleasure from it. Not with her fingers or any kind of toy. She owns some of those, but they're for her ass. She only uses the shower water to masturbate, and she prays afterwards to wash away the feeling that she was singing.

But maybe one of her favorite ways to get pleasure, to stimulate herself, is rubbing her thighs while you fuck her ass. Is not that anal sex isn't pleasant for her, otherwise she wouldn't have those toys, but sometimes she needs something extra to reach her climax. And then is where rubbing her thighs offers a great solution, isn't like touching herself and just amplificate what she's feeling when you're fucking her from behind.

Your hand still maintains her cheek in position, and you positioned your other hand in her waist, making an anchor point to help you to move your body. So you penetrate Yunjin's anus as far as you can without your balls touching her cunt, then you retrieve and go forward again with a slow pace.

“Honey. I need you to do it harder or we're gonna get really late for the service.” Of course Yunjin is right, but you also know how she likes it and this rhythm is insufficient to her. “Don't want my dad to send anyone to look for us.”

“Sure is for that and not because you just like it harder.” Normally you would spank her to prove your point and she would have moaned, but you can't afford to be that noisy so all you do is take your dick out and let her ass empty. But before she can't protest your shaft is back inside her asshole, and you're fucking her how she like it.

You go as deep and fast as you can, but always taking care that you balls don't slap her pussy. You just put around three quarters of your shaft inside your girlfriend's rectum, and then you go backwards till only your tip is inside, then back again to stuffing her ass. Finally you're giving her what she asked for.

You can see how she enjoys it, but you almost can hear it. Yunjin is covering her mouth with one hand, while the other is playing with her chest. Her tiddies arent big, but they are beautiful and delicious. You love to suck and roll her hard nipples when she sip in your lap with a vibrator shoved up her ass. All you do is play with her sensitive buds until she reaches her orgasm, the same as she's doing now. Which means she isn't wearing a bra, so not underwear for this service. What a kinky girl is your girlfriend.

In fact Yunjin was a dirty girl and you loved her for that. How could you not do it when aside from her filthy side she has always been a good and supportive girlfriend? Sometimes you think even better than what you deserve, because she has helped you to go through some hard times in your life. That's why you don't mind giving her all she wants, also isn't like you aren't enjoying it too. Also, obviously, she's a dirty girl so you two have a lot of fun together.

You can feel Yunjin moving her thighs to create friction. It's not a big movement, but you can feel her muscles shifting, especially in the cheek you're holding to keep her ass open. With your other hand, you caress her lower back and dig your thumb into her back dimple. You draw circles over the spot before holding her tight and fucking her harder for a moment.

Those muffled moans you hear are like a heavenly chorus. You wish Yunjin could moan freely so that the beautiful sounds she makes could resonate throughout the place. It would be like a choir of angels, but she obviously can't. So, unfortunately, your ears are deprived of that beautiful music. Luckily, your dick isn't deprived of the sensation that her tight ass brings. You can feel her tight ring of muscles squeezing your shaft and how she's tightening her anus for you. She's practically clenching your meat.

“Do you wanna make cum so fast? That’s what you want?”

“We don’t have much time left.” Yunjin says tightening and releasing tension on her asshole. “Go deep. I’ll cover my pussy with my hand.” As she says your girlfriend separates her thighs and puts her hand between them, covering her entire vulva so your ball doesn't touch it. That allows you to go depper and fuck her faster, so her other hand have the task of cover her mouth.

You finally bury your entire length inside Yunjin’s ass, and that feels amazing. The warmth of her rectum surrounds your shaft while her anus squeezes your meat, demanding you to finish soon. All you can do is rock your hips back and then thrust in her ass, making your pelvis crash in her glutes and your balls over her fingers. The hand that is covering Yunjin’s mouth does a poor job muting her moans now that you can fuck her freely, you still can heard them scaping between her fingers.

Now you use both hands to grab her waist while you're ravaging her little and tastier asshole. You see the flesh of her buthock tremble with every thrust, and make a sound that is definitely too loud for the place you are; but you can’t help but keep going, hoping the door is thick enough to hide the sounds of the unholy deed going on inside. But you aren’t fucking Yunjin’s pussy, so this isn’t a sin, is just a lovely couple having some fun. It sure isn't the best place to do it, but it's all you have now. Also, God forgives a man for fulfilling his lover's needs.

You can feel a sudden movement in your girlfriend’s hand, that between her legs, a strange one. Is like if her hand were shaking from time to time, then suddenly stopping and shaking again after a few thrust of your hips. And suddenly the realisation of what is happening hits you, Yunjin is pleasuring herself. You can’t blame her for that, not always she can reach her orgasm when you fuck her ass; so a little help doesn’t come bad. Also is not rubbing just shaking her hand, so in your opinion doesn't count as a sin too.

While her hand shakes become more erratic, Yunjin’s ass gets tighter. Both are close and at damn good time because the clock in the wall marks almost the nine am, the time that the service is supposed to start. One more squeeze of Yunjin’s asshole and a few pumps of your cock after both of you reach the orgasm at the same time.

The impossible tightness of Yunjin’s asshole milks your cock, squeezing all your semen out of your meat. You have to cover your mouth with your hands in order to mute the sounds you are making because this is overwhelming. Your girlfriend’s asshole feels amazing while her thighs shakes and she has to get into her tiptoes to withstand the jolts. Both of you are breathing heavily through your fingers.

After a long minute, which feels longer than that, Yunjin pats you on the thigh. “We need to go.” You don’t say anything but you withdraw your cock from her ass, slowly and carefully. A sudden shiver runs through Yunjin’s body when your shaft finally comes out of her asshole. You take a moment that you don't have to spread her glutes again and appreciate what you have done. Her anus remains agape and is slowly closing, while some drops of your load slide down her right thigh and also to her pussy.

Now that Yunjin has withdrawn her hand, you can perfectly see how creamy her pussy is from her own pleasure. The few drops of semen that reach her folds mix with that creaminess, but you can't clean it off. It's forbidden for you, and besides, you know Yunjin loves having her pussy soaked during the service. Add to that the fact that her ass will now be dripping, and she might have to say a few extra "Amens" for what she's going to feel.

300 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 28 days ago

Text

Yuna goes to School Part 1

Tags: Different sexual partners, blowjob, anal, creampie, lots of dirty talk, spanking, school sex, cum swallowing, facial, daddy kink and more...

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait for another chapter. I hope you guys like this one. Decided to try something new, not only in terms on kinks, but also writing style. Wanted to make some words stand out (in terms of their meaning), so I made them bold just add that little extra umpf to it.

Also, no way near as many pics as in my other chapters, because I wanted to keep the theme of this chapter.

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

"Ten more days in this shithole, and I'm free forever." Yuna thought to herself.

Life as an idol wasn't easy, especially if you were still in school. There wasn't a single spot inside the school where Yuna could go without feeling someone looking at her. Because she had debuted with Itzy at such a young age, almost 3 years ago, it meant she was by far the most popular girl in the school, and with that came great responsibilities.

There was a lot of pressure on her at all times. She couldn't get caught lacking. Yuna had to look flawless at every moment. She also had to be extremely careful with what she said and did, or else all it took was one video out of context and her career would be over, just like that. But perhaps most importantly, just like any other student, her grades had to be top-notch. Netizens would destroy Yuna online if they found out she was just as dumb as the average BTS fan...

Unfortunately for Yuna, balancing idol life with school studies was starting to get increasingly more difficult, and with the final exam just around the corner, she knew she needed help.

Knowing this, Yuna decided to head over to the school library, where she luckily found the smartest student in the whole school. He was one of those prodigy kids...a black guy that came to Korea through one of those exchange student programs. Not only was he the smartest guy in the school, but he was also in her class, which meant that if there was anyone who could help her, it was him.

"Hey...do you mind if I sit here, next to you?"

The boy was very shy, and why wouldn't he be? Hottest girl in the school wanting to sit right next to you...a celebrity, an idol, a legend in the making, and a future icon of the business...it was perfectly normal for him to feel this way towards her, especially when she wanted to be right next to him.

He nodded very quietly, and Yuna sat down next to him.

"Can you help me study for the test? I really need it." She asked, giving him the eyes.

"Uhhmm, y-yeah...of course..."

Yuna almost burst out laughing with how much the poor boy was shaking, but she managed to hold it, and instead she just smiled at him.

The two started going over the potential exercises that could show up in the test, and it was going nicely for the first couple of minutes until Yuna decided to rest her hand on his thigh, and that's when she felt a large bulge in his pants. The guy was rock hard, just from being next to Yuna, and he shifted in his seat as soon as he felt her hand touch his boner.

"Uhmmm, sorry." Yuna said, immediately removing her hand.

The guy gulped down hard, hoping that she didn't feel how hard he was for her, but Yuna knew...Yuna knew and she wanted it...badly.

It was Yuna's biggest weakness...cocks. The bigger, the better. The more, the merrier. She couldn't help herself. Not ever since Ryujin opened her doors to this side of the universe, shortly after she turned 18, almost two months ago. Ever since the day that Ryujin invited a fan backstage after a show for a special "Meet & Greet" with both of them, Yuna couldn't think of anything else other than cocks. During classes, all she could think about was which guy she should pick to bring over to the bathroom and blow him during the intervals.

Yuna never would've guessed that this shy smart boy had a big cock, but she should've, given he was black.

As for him, he lost all composure once he felt her hand on his pants. After that, he could no longer help Yuna with studies...hell...he could barely string a sentence together...

"Do you want me to take care of that?"

"Huh?...what?!"

"C'mon, I know you want it."

"B-but...we are in the library."

"Chill, look around...there is barely anyone here, plus we are like in the most hidden corner of the library. We are not gonna get caught." Yuna said, getting off her chair and sliding to her knees.

She immediately started working on his pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his ankles alongside his boxers.

"Yuna, are you sure? This is cra..fuckkkkkk"

His sentence died in his mouth as soon as Yuna took his whole length down her throat. She deepthroated his enormous black cock a few times before pulling back, and she already had multiple strings of spit dripping down her chin.

"Fuck, I love sucking big black cocks." She said, giving his shaft a few strokes before sliding her lips past his dick and taking him into her mouth once again.

The guy was in utter disbelief of how he managed to get into this situation in the first place, but he didn't care. He very well knew this was his only chance of fucking a K-Pop idol, and he wasn't going to waste it. He no longer cared if he got caught, and neither did Yuna.

He remained seated on the chair and let Yuna do all the work. The 18-year-old idol happily bobbed her head up and down on his big black cock and kept slurping away. The guy threw his head back as Yuna constantly choked herself on his dick.

"Yuna...I'm not going to last much longer."

Yuna smiled with his cock in her mouth and kept sucking his dick for a couple more seconds before releasing him with a loud pop in the practically empty school library.

"Good...then don't. Stand up, fuck my face, and cum down my throat." She said, holding his massive black cock with both of her hands and rapidly stroking it whilst sliding her tongue across his sensitive tip.

Every word that came out of the mouth of Itzy's maknae fueled his lust for her, and his shy barrier was rapidly cracking. He was eager to fulfill Yuna's request, and so he stood up, put his hands on each side of her face, and started smashing his cock into the back of Yuna's throat. Yuna proudly gagged around his black cock like the naughty student that she was and took it all the way down. Her school uniform was covered in drool in just a matter of seconds, but that didn't stop him from thrusting his hips and giving Yuna all of his cock.

Seeing Yuna on her knees with her mouth stuffed full of his brown cock only made him grow in confidence, and he decided to show her this by slapping the left cheek of her face with his right hand a few times, until it became red. Yuna was loving every single second of it, and she made sure to tell him by removing his hard dick from her mouth and slapping her face with it for a couple of seconds.

Yuna's efforts on his cock sent him to a point of no return, and he quickly grabbed hold of her hair and shoved his dick right back into her mouth. Yuna's eyes were wide open as she got caught by surprise, but she didn't mind it. She loved it, actually. Loved feeling his hard cock slide past her lips each time he went in and out of her mouth. Loved feeling his heavy balls hit her chin with each thrust. And she fucking loved when he eventually blew his load inside her mouth, sending multiple ropes to the back of Yuna's throat, filling it entirely.

She tried to swallow everything, but it was too much cum, even for someone like Yuna, and she had no other option but to spit half of his seed onto her uniform. It created a large stain that would be pretty difficult to hide, but that was the last thing on Yuna's mind right now...

"Fuck, I didn't know you had so much cum."

"Yeah, well...black men always cum a lot, you should know."

"True, but I don't think the cum I've sucked out of black dicks so far compares to yours."

"Didn't you turn 18 like a month ago or something?"

"I did, but I've got some experience already...Ryujin unnie is teaching me the ropes."

Yuna's reply made his cock twitch, and it only got harder when Yuna stood up and turned around. She gave him a brief smile over her shoulder before bending over and sliding down her soaked panties.

She shook her butt a little bit, as if she was begging him to slide his dick inside her.

"Yuna, what the fuck...I...I can't. It's still sensitive."

"But it's hard, and I want it. Don't you wanna fuck my tight pussy with that big cock?"

"You are crazy..."

"Crazy for cock, yes. Now shut up and fuck me. And don't you dare pull out. I want you to cum inside me."

There was no chance in hell that he was going to give up on this offer, and so he placed his hands on Yuna's waist and started teasing her by rubbing his hard dick between her pussy lips.

"Don't tease me, please. Put that dick inside me and fuck me hard."

"I need that huge cock inside me right now."

Cock was what she craved, and cock was what she got when the guy slowly slid his entire length into Yuna's cunt. Yuna was extremely tight, which was always going to be the case given how young she was, however, luckily for him, she was indeed very wet, and with the blowjob from earlier, it made his cock slip in and out of her Korean pussy not as difficult of a task as one might think.

He pumped her at a steady pace, not slow or fast. All he wanted was to feel her walls and the way they hugged big black cock perfectly, as if Yuna was born to take such a huge dick (which she definitely was).

The longer he fucked her, the more Yuna begged him to go harder, and once he did, she started moaning loudly. His reactions were insanely fast, and he quickly put his right hand over her mouth, preventing Yuna from revealing their location to the one or two people still inside the school library at that time.

"Are you fucking crazy? Do you wanna get caught?" He asked, removing his hand so she could answer.

"Sorry...Fuckkk, I can't help it. It's too good. Your cock is just so fucking perfect...It's much bigger than any other black cock I've taken so far."

"And no...I don't wanna get caught. All I want is your cum, so please...give it to me."

"Pull my hair and pump me full of cum. I wannabe your BBC slut."

With his hand back over her mouth and now a grip on her hair, he began fucking Yuna hard and rough. Her moans might've been muffled, but anyone who would come close to their proximity, could 100% hear the sound of Yuna's cheeks getting absolutely clapped and pounded with immense force...he did not hold back, whatsoever.

At that time, the library was nothing more than Yuna's sex chamber...a place for her to be fucked and ruined by a fellow classmate that had a ridiculously huge black cock.

Yuna took his cock like a pro and let him use her as his personal toy. A few seconds of rubbing her clit after putting her hand between her legs was all it took to make her cum on his cock, and once she did, her legs almost gave up. In fact, if not for him or the table that she was currently being bent over, Yuna would've collapsed to the ground. Instead, she was able to just remain there and take his big black cock over and over and over again, with her pussy being stretched to the absolute limit.

With fear that someone else might hear him, he didn't tell Yuna that he was close and instead kept hammering away at her pussy. He fucked her balls deep, and after a couple of more minutes of using Yuna as his personal cumslut, he unloaded inside her just like she asked.

"Oh my god, fuckkkk. It's so warm...I can feel your cock throbbing inside my pussy."

"I can't believe I just fucked a K-Pop idol inside the school..."

"It definitely won't be the last time. I can guarantee you that." Yuna replied, as the guy pulled out his cock and watched as his cum slowly leaked out of Yuna's pussy and ran down her thighs before falling onto the floor.

And she was right...it wasn't the last time. For the entirety of the next week leading up to the final exam, Yuna and him fucked her all over the school, in the most hidden of spaces. She took his cock everywhere...in her mouth, in her pussy and she even let him have her ass. Yuna let him use her as his personal cumdispenser. All that Yuna could think about was him and his huge black cock, that it actually caused a huge problem for her...she didn't study. She actually didn't study...not one bit. Yuna was fucked, and not in the good way.

The final exam was a disaster for Yuna. For the next two days after the exam, she prayed that it was enough to pass. When the day of receiving her grade arrived, her professor waited for the very last minute of the class to hand out the results. He had the exams on a stack on top of his table and told everyone to grab theirs and leave his classroom. Yuna was the very last one to grab hers because she feared the worst, and her professor confirmed her fears before Yuna even had the chance to pick up her exam and look at her grade.

"Shin Yuna...what happened?"

"Professor...I don't know..."

"It pains me to do this to you...to end your career, just because of a test..."

"Please, don't do this...this can't get out...I need a passing grade, or else it's all over...my dream of becoming an idol will end." She said, walking over to his side of the desk with the most pleading face she could pull.

"Yuna...I can't do anything for you. My hands are tied. I'm sorry."

"You can't, but...maybe I can do something for you..." Yuna said, slowly reaching over to his crotch with her hand.

"Yuna, what are you doing? I can't do this."

"Your dick says otherwise." She replied, feeling his cock already getting hard.

"I can't do this...I can't risk my job."

"Nobody is going to find out. Everyone has already left."

"It's just me, you, and your big cock." She added, felling him getting harder and harder with each rub.

"Yuna...fuckkkk."

"No...fuck...shit...I can't do it. I'm married."

"Oh, come on...I see the way you look at me when I'm in class. I know you want to fuck me." She said, as she stopped working on his pants and moved behind him to give him a massage on his shoulders.

"I see the way you arrive every day...stressed. Is your wife not doing the job, Mr. Professor?"

"Is she not draining those balls properly?" She doubled down, whispering in his ear.

"Don't you wanna fuck a hot, popular K-Pop idol?"

"Yuna, please don't do this...I can't cheat on my wife. We've been married for over 30 years."

"We met in this exact school. We are high-school sweethearts. She's the only woman I have ever been with."

"Well, time to add another one to the list, then..." Yuna said, lifting her school uniform and briefly flashing him her tits.

"Yuna, what the fuck!"

"C'mon, touch them. I know you want to."

Her teacher was unable to take his eyes off her small breasts, but he remained professional, and didn't reach out for them. In the end, it didn't really matter, because Yuna reached out to grab his right arm and placed his hand directly on her tits, forcing him to feel them.

"Yuna!!!"

"Shhhhhhhhhh." She said, by pressing her finger to his lips, forcing him to stay quiet.

"Here is what's going to happen..."

"You are going to pull out your cock, and I'm gonna suck it like the good little slut that I am."

"Afterwards, I'm going to let you use me as your anal slut and you're going to pound the shit out of my asshole until you paint my insides."

"And in return for giving you the best sex you will ever have, I want you to change my grade to A+."

"Do we have a deal...daddy?"

A hard cock in his pants combined with a handful of her tits plus the dirty talk...Yuna knew she had him on the palm of his hands, and he knew that too. It was physically impossible for him to resist Yuna and the chance to fuck one of the hottest K-Pop idols of all time, even though she was still only 18 years of age.

After a brief moment of silence and consideration, only three words left his mouth.

"Lock the door."

"Victory." Yuna thought to herself.

With a smile on her face, she turned around and did what she was told. After locking the door, she walked over back to him. She tried to lean in and kiss him, but he had other plans.

He spun Yuna around and pushed her against his desk, bending her over at a 90º angle. Her head was pressed sideways against the cold steel table, and despite wanting and needing this to happen, this wasn't in her bingo card.

"What are you doing, daddy?"

"I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"A lesson of what happens when cute little girls like you decide to behave like naughty dirty sluts." He added.

"Hmmm, well, you are my teacher, so...teach me. Teach me what happens to dirty sluts like me."

"You wanna know what happens, Yuna? They get punished, and that is what I'm going to do to you...I'm going to punish you for being a dirty slut."

"Hmmmm, okay...I like the sound of that. How are you going to do that?"

Her question went unanswered, with the professor opting to remain silent and let his actions speak for themselves. He grabbed her mini skirt and pulled it down slowly, watching her supple and round butt appear from under it, only made bigger and more inviting by her perfect wide hips.

"Pfffff...of course you're not wearing any panties...fucking slut..."

Yuna just smiled and waited for her punishment. In that position, Yuna thought she was in for a nice hard spanking coming from her professor, and her thoughts were confirmed when she saw him reach for a large wooden ruler on his desk, right next to where she was bent over.

With the 18-year-old folded in half over his table and her bare butt sticking out, he raised his right arm and started giving her some nice hard slaps across her buttcheeks, as a nice warm-up for what was about to go down.

"Slap me harder, daddy. I've been such a naughty student."

"Yeah...you have. Why did you stop studding? Your grades have fallen off a cliff this past couple of weeks." He responded, not only with his words, but also with a hard smack across her ass, leaving his handprint on her cheek.

"Fuckkk...I was too busy sucking cocks left, right, and center."

"You will not make it in this industry, Yuna. One day, people will find out how much of a slut you really are, and your career will be over."

"I don't care about the future...I care about the present...the now."

"I love being a naughty, dirty, slutty, cock hungry bitch. I love sucking cocks and getting fucked by guys with big dicks."

"And right now...I want that. I want you to punish me until you deem me worthy of your huge cock, daddy."

Lust had taken over Yuna's mind, and for her, this was no longer about her grades or her future. The only thing Yuna cared about was getting fucked and used by her teacher. Yuna wanted him to dominate her, and that is what he did. He grabbed her arms and put them behind her back before taking a few steps back and admiring his work. Yuna...the 18-year-old K-Pop idol...Itzy's maknae...bent over his desk wearing nothing but the school uniform, with her holes exposed for him and him only. The grin on his face said it all, and he was ready to put Yuna in her place.

He put the ruler in his hands and gave her a swift but not too hard slap. Yuna let out a soft moan once she felt the large wooden object hit her skin, and she smiled every time he spanked her with the ruler.

"Hit me harder, c'mon. Make me your slut." She said, shaking her butt from side to side.

Her teasing only made his cock throb against his pants even more, and if Yuna wanted it harder, she was going to get it. The professor pulled his arm further than before and began hitting her with his ruler. Yuna's cheeks shook with each spank and she bit her lip hard. She was enjoying the constant stinging sensation on her buttcheeks, and the handprint that was previously on her ass had been replaced by numerous red marks. However, unsurprisingly, she wanted more.

For a horny slut like Yuna, being butt naked and bent over a table whilst getting spanked in a classroom inside the fucking school was just simply wasn't enough for her. As for her professor, it was dreamland. He had easily the hottest girl in the school, half naked in front of him. That alone in any other scenario would be enough to send any man into a euphoric state, but Yuna wasn't any other girl...

She was an 'It Girl' of the K-Pop industry. Yuna was already so famous that it was practically impossible to step foot outside without seeing her face on a big ass billboard. To have someone that famous...that talented...that rich, right in front of you and at your mercy...it's something capable of turning any man into a lust-frenzied animal, and in this case it was no different.

Her teacher kept unleashing a barrage of spanks on her ass, and those were always met with the same word.

"Harder!"

Yuna was a complete masochist, and he fucking loved that. At the start, he was a bit afraid of hitting her hard, but now he wasn't holding back anymore. With each slap, the ruler left a nasty red mark, and the sounds of it hitting her ass echoed inside the classroom.

"HARDER!"

Yuna wasn't the only one taking a beating, as all this spanking was absolutely draining his energy, and Yuna could feel that because of the longer time between each hit. He took a step back for a little bit of a breather and admired the damage that he had done. Yuna's cheeks were so red that it was as if she had decided to tan only that part of her body.

"Do you want to spank me some more, or do you want to put your hard dick inside my mouth and make me choke on it?"

"S-Shut up...shut up and spread that asshole for me, slut." He said in between heavy breaths.

Yuna didn't waste any time and put her fingers between her asscheeks. As soon as her fingertips made contact with her skin, she felt just how much pain she was really in. It was going to be a long time before she could sit her sweet ass on any surface...

She was still eager to comply, so she grabbed her asscheeks once again and spread them wide, to give him the perfect view of her tight little hole.

"Take a good look, daddy."

"That's what you will be pounding in just a few minutes."

"I can't wait to feel that hard cock filling me up and stretching me out."

"I bet your wife doesn't even take it up the ass, now does she?"

The bare mention of his wife turned all that lust into pure rage. He didn't want to be in this situation to begin with, but Yuna gave him no other option, with how naughty she behaved and talked. Without saying a single word, he grabbed her hands and put them on the table before taking a few steps back.

Yuna was completely unaware of what her teacher was going to do. Her head was pressed sideways against the table, and all she could do was wait in anticipation. The professor held the wooden ruler with both of his hands, as if he was holding a baseball bat or a katana and lifted it above his head before smashing it against her right cheek with all his strength.

"FUCK, OH MY FUCKING GOD, FUCKKKKKKK!!!!!" She cried out.

He used so much power that the ruler broke in half once it made contact with Yuna's ass. Even he was in shock once he saw one piece of the ruler flying across the room and the other one still in his hands. Yuna was in complete pain, and she definitely bit off more than she could chew. It was safe to say that she learned her lesson. She had spent so many moments inside that classroom over the years, and yet, despite all the pain she was in, this was still by far her favourite moment of being there.

A short moment of silence settled in the classroom, with them realizing that they had both crossed the line in their lust for each other. Yuna slowly turned around and looked him in the eyes, with a painful look on her face. As for him, he had mixed feelings all over the place. He had just smashed a wooden ruler against his student's ass so hard that it broke in half!!! And it wasn't just any student, no...it was Yuna. Someone who could easily buy his whole house. Someone who made more money in two years than him in his entire career as a teacher. And to add to that, he had his wife in the back of his mind. Technically, he wasn't cheating on her...he still hadn't had sex with Yuna. He could stop right here and walk away, but his cock had a mind of its own, and he knew he couldn't resist Itzy's maknae any longer.

"Are...are you ready for your reward?"

"Yes, daddy. I've never been more ready for cock in my whole life. I'm so wet for you."

"I'm going to suck your cock so good, that you won't be able to think of anyone else." She added.

Yuna was treading through dangerous waters. She made sure to avoid his trigger word, but he knew very well what she meant by that. He shot her an unpleasant look, before moving on.

"Good. Then get down on your knees and open your fucking mouth."

Despite his order, there was no chance in hell Yuna could sit with how sore her ass was, so instead she just squatted and unbuckled his pants before pulling them down. A wide smile appeared on her face once she was finally had his big cock in front of her.

Her hands immediately latched onto it, but swatted them away, which brought out Yuna's puppy eyes. It was if someone had just taken away her favourite toy.

She wasn't left sad for too long though, as he placed his hand on the top of her head and started slapping her face with his big dick. Yuna stuck her tongue out after the first couple of slaps and happily let him use her face for his pleasure.

Yuna loved feeling his ridiculously hard cock hitting her face and tongue, and he knew it. And despite knowing how much she was enjoying herself, he knew what she really wanted, and he decided to make her beg for it.

"Tell me what you want, Yuna. Say it."

"Please, daddy...push your cock down my throat."

"That's not good enough!" He replied, slamming his fist on the table.

"Put that big dick in my mouth and make me take it like the slut that I am. I know I can give head way better than your lame, ugly wife."

"Oh, shut the fuck up and take my cock, you fucking slut." He said, grabbing her hair and forcing his cock down Yuna's throat.

Yuna knew exactly how to trigger him, and she got what she wanted from him...his cock right into the back of her throat. No going slow...no time to adjust...none of that bullshit. Just straight up intense facefuck from the very start.

The professor held her head and kept pounding away at her face, fucking her throat without any mercy. Yuna's jaw was forced wide open, and she couldn't help but gag around his length each time it went down her throat.

Her mouth was filled with cock and she had drool all over her chin. Spit was constantly leaking out of the corners of Yuna's mouth, despite her having her lips wrapped tightly around his cock.

The only thing that could be heard inside the classroom was the sound of his balls slapping her chin and Yuna's gagging. Her throat was being demolished by her teacher's dick, and yet, she didn't want to have it any other way. He kept on using her as his personal fleshlight for a while longer, until he decided to stop his thrusts into the back of her throat. However, instead of pulling out, he remained balls deep inside her throat, taking on the view that he knew he would surely only see once in his life...

He admired the bulge of his cock in her neck and how pretty she looked with his dick stuffed down her throat.

"You look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth, you know that?"

Yuna smiled around his length, which made a lot of saliva escape her mouth and drip down her chin before it landed on her school uniform.

"So this is why you failed in the final exam, huh? Turned 18 and discovered your true passion...acting like a slut, sucking dicks, getting fucked and draining big cocks, huh?" He asked, letting his cock slip out of her mouth.

Before Yuna could even answer, he started slapping her a few times with his cock, just to make a complete mess of her face. Yuna smiled and let him rub is dick all over her lips as much as he wanted, before finally coming to a stop and letting Itzy's starlet answer his question. "I can't lie...my music career is no longer my number one priority."

"All I really want these days is a nice fat cock to play with and drain as much as I want." She said, opening her mouth for him to stick his shaft back inside.

He was slow this time, just enjoying the way her lips felt every time he slid his dick past them. Yuna hummed around his length and made sure to match his movements by slowly bobbing her head back and forth on his cock.

"You love that, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy. I love having dick in my mouth. I love sucking huge cocks like yours." She said, releasing him from her mouth.

"Then prove it. Show me how much you love this dick, Yuna."

His words had barely left his mouth, and Yuna already taking his cock inside hers. She started to bob her head up and down his cock rapidly, making loud slurping noises each time his dick went past her lips.

Yuna made sure not to leave an inch of his cock untouched. She ran her tongue all over his balls, coating them in her spit before popping them in her mouth and sucking on them, all whilst rapidly stroking his wet cock. She then licked the underside of his shaft all the way to the tip before pushing his cock back inside her mouth, where she immediately deepthroated his entire length over and over again, gagging and coughing all over it.

She kept was choking herself on his dick and her eyes became watery, but not once did she think about stopping or pulling away. Yuna's face was turning red with each passing second, but that wasn't going to stop her.

What did end up stopping Yuna was her insatiable thirst for having his cock deep inside her holes, and after a couple more deepthroats, she released him from her mouth with a loud pop before standing up and turning around.

"Are you ready to pound my asshole, daddy?" She asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Is that what you want, Yuna? To get fucked by your teacher?"

"Yes, I need it so badly! I want to be your naughty, slutty student, bent over your desk, waiting for her teacher's dick."

"I'm going to make you scream on my fucking cock." He whispered at her ear, before pushing her back down on the table, with her head against the cold steel surface.

Instead of going straight into the action, he decided to tease her just a little bit by running his finger up and down the length of her pussy lips. Yuna's juices were starting to drip down her legs, and her teacher used it to lube her asshole up, rubbing his fingers against her tight hole.

He then spat on his fingers and shoved three inside her asshole, basically giving her a signal that he wasn't here to play nice...Yuna was going to get it and she was going to get it hard.

Yuna let out a couple of moans once she felt his fingers enter her tight little bumhole. Her professor began pumping them in and out, stretching her as much as possible to prepare her for his big fat cock.

"You don't need to waste any time stretching me, daddy. I want your cock right now."

"I want you to break me in half, fill my tight little hole with your hot cum and claim my asshole for yourself."

Yuna's request was loud and obvious, and he was eager to give her what she wanted. He grabbed his cock and pressed it against her hole before slowly pushing his hips forward until his entire length was buried inside her tight butt.

"Oh god...fuckkkkk. That's just what I needed."

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head once she felt his whole shaft inside her, and once he slowly pulled back, Yuna knew it was about to go down.

The teacher thrust his hips inside her and began fucking her asshole. Not slow, not fast. Just the perfect pace, giving her the perfect amount of pain and pleasure without blowing his load so soon.

Her moans became slightly louder with each thrust, and they echoed inside the room. Yuna's breasts were pressed against the table, and her asscheeks jiggled every time his hips met hers.

It was practically heaven for Yuna, especially when she felt his balls slapping her pussy. The longer they went at it, the better and louder it got.

"Give me that cock. Just fuck me as hard as you can. I can take it, daddy."

"Who's a good slut for daddy's cock?" He asked, grabbing her hair with one hand and slapping her sore asscheeks with the other.

"I am, daddy! I'm your anal slut."

"I am nothing but a K-Pop idol that loves taking huge dicks up her ass!" She cried out, closing her eyes as he kept on pounding her tight hole.

Just like she had said it, Yuna was indeed his anal slut, and he loved it. Yuna's walls were squeezing him for all his worth, and he could feel the pressure building up. It was time to dump his thick load inside her asshole.

He held her hips tightly and increased his speed. If when he was spanking her earlier on, he made sure Yuna couldn't sit for a week, now he was making sure Yuna wouldn't be able to walk for a week. Yuna was being treated like an absolute fuckdoll, and she was moaning every step of the way. She curled her toes as she felt his cock splitting her open and stretching her butt, and it was becoming too much for her to handle, even for a total cumslut like Yuna.

"Oh, Yuna...I'm so fucking close."

"Fill my ass with cum, please."

His dick was going in and out of her ass as fast as he could, and with a young moaning mess like Yuna bent over in front of him, begging for cum, it was too much for him to handle and he ended up unloading a huge amount of cum inside the 18-year-old.

Almost immediately he slumped backwards, balancing himself on a student's table, and watched as Yuna remained in position, unable to move due to the pain.

"Ahhhhh, fuckkkk...daddy. So much fucking cum for me." She said, reaching for her ass and feeling the cum leak out from her butt.

She put a finger inside and collected some of his seed before bringing it to her mouth, where she unsurprisingly poured it on her tongue to taste it.

"Hmmmm...so warm and tasty. I could drink this all day long."

Tired and drained from this extracurricular activity, her teacher stood up and quickly picked up a pen before changing Yuna's exam grade.

"There, done. You got what you wanted. Now, please....leave my classroom."

"Oh, we are not done yet. I'm not leaving until I get my pussy fucked and my face covered in cum."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not. Plus, I can see that your toy is still hard for me." Yuna said, making her teacher roll his eyes into the back of his head and sigh in disbelief.

"Don't you see how wet I am for you?" She added, grabbing his hand and making him touch her wet folds.

"You are fucking crazy, Yuna..."

Her teacher caved in and began voluntarily dipping his fingers inside Yuna's pussy as the two started making out with one another. The young starlet hummed into his mouth, and the older man explored the maknae's cunt. This lasted for a couple of minutes before Yuna's thirst for cock got the better of her.

"Your cock. My pussy. Now!"

"Is that what my cumslut princess wants?" He said, putting his thumb inside her mouth and making her suck on it.

Yuna shook her head up and down and slowly swirled her tongue around his finger. Her teacher smiled and told her to turn around and place her hands on the edge of his desk. The idol patiently awaited for his next move, and after a few seconds, she felt a pair of hands on her ass. It was still sore due to all the slapping that it had endured earlier on, and she let out a soft cry because of it.

Her whimper became a moan when the professor introduced his tongue inside her cunt and started lapping at her folds.

"Oh fuck, daddyyy, hmmm. Keep eating my pussy...just like that."

He feasted on Yuna's pussy like it was a goddamn buffet, constantly swirling his tongue inside it and tasting her juices before spitting in it. The deeper he shoved his tongue in Yuna's cunt, the louder she moaned. She shut her eyes and her mouth fell open as he kept working her over. The way he was going at it, it was only a matter of time before Yuna came, and she had zero intentions of letting that happen...the only way she was going to cum today, was with his cock buried in her young fertile pussy.

"I'm going to cum if you keep that up, daddy."

"And that's a bad thing because...?"

"I want you to do it with your cock, please."

"Fuck, you are such a greedy little cock slut." He said, standing up and slapping her ass one more time just for good measure.

Having sex with Yuna had drained so much energy from him, that he had to take a moment to grab a water bottle from his bag and take a sip, or else he might've had passed out inside her, not that Yuna would complain...she probably would've ridden his cock until he woke up a few hours later...

After several seconds, he made his way back to Yuna and grabbed her leg, putting it on top of the table. He had seen way too many fancams of her, so he knew she was flexible and could easily take his big white cock in this position. He grabbed his thick shaft and rubbed it all over her pussy lips, sliding it back and forth across her folds and coating it in her wetness, much to Yuna's annoyance, as she just wanted to get fucked hard and nothing else.

"What are you waiting for, daddy? Put it in and start fucking the shit out of me."

If it wasn't for Yuna begging for his cock like the absolute slut that she was, he swore that he could've spent hours just looking at Yuna in that position...a leg on the floor and another one on top of the desk, creating the most perfect 90º angle he had ever seen. Her holes were out and in full display, with some cum still dripping down her leg...she was impossible to resist.

Most people thought that Yuna was like the forbidden fruit...nobody could have her. Except, that very much wasn't the case. Any guy half decent looking and with a big cock could have a crack at her and her tight holes, and thankfully for her teacher, he was him.

After slapping her asscheeks with his hard shaft a couple more times, he pushed his cockhead past her cunt, and he watched how her tight teen pussy swallowed the entire length. Thankfully for him, it was no way near as tight as her ass, but even then, her pussy wasn't very far behind.

Yuna couldn't help but bite her lower lip as her teacher's cock stretched her walls out. She looked over her shoulder and watched him as he slowly began to pump his dick in and out of her tight pussy.

The face Yuna was making as she was getting her pussy pounded hard was so insanely sexy that he couldn't help but grab her hair and pull her in for a kiss. Yuna moaned into his mouth as he kept thrusting in and she couldn't wait for his second load of the day.

"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock, Yuna."

He stopped kissing her and put a hand on the side of her neck to be able to watch her dead in the eyes. Yuna's mouth was wide open and her forehead was touching his. The two were so close to each other that the teacher could feel the heat irradiating from her body, but he wanted more. His hands moved to the bottom of her school uniform and he pulled it over her head, leaving Yuna only with her boots on.

Almost immediately, her breasts became the center of attention, as her professor couldn't keep his hands off them whilst he continued hammering away at Yuna's pussy. Her back was completely arched, and the position she found herself in was a testament to how insane her flexibility was. Yuna was made to be fucked...simple as that.

Everything about her was pornographic. Her gorgeous face, her insane body and her tight holes. She was perfect, from top to bottom, and she very much was a bottom. Yuna loved being a submissive slut for guys with big cocks, and with the constant pleasure of getting her pussy railed hard and fast by her teacher, combined with having his hands pinching her nipples, she couldn't hold any longer and came on his cock.

Her orgasm hit her so hard, that if it wasn't for him holding her in his arms, she would've fallen face first into his desk. Thankfully that didn't happen, and instead he kept fucking Yuna like there was no tomorrow, feeling his own orgasm approaching. "You are such a fucking whore, you know that, right? Cumming on my cock like that."

"I know, daddy. I'm such a whore for big dicks. I love spreading my legs and letting guys use me however they like."

Her dirty talk was the final nail in the coffin, and he quickly pulled out and dragged Yuna onto her knees, where he started stroking his big dick and aiming it right at her face. Yuna wasted no time in sticking her tongue out whilst she rubbed her pussy like the good little slut that she was proud to be.

"Beg for it, Yuna. Tell me how much of a slut you are."

"I want your cum, daddy."

"I need you to cover my face with it and turn me into your personal cumdumpster."

He grinned from ear to ear and held her face close with one hand whilst he kept jerking off with the other until he finally shot his load all over Yuna's face, with some spurts going directly into her mouth. He took a few steps back and looked at the complete mess that he had done. Yuna's entire face was coated with his cum. Her cheeks, forehead, eyelids, nose, lips and even hair all had cum blasted on them.

Yuna giggled upon feeling so many warm spurts land on her face, and once she stopped feeling that pleasant sensation, she took his dick into her mouth to completely milk him dry out of every last drop.

Some of the cum on her face had started to drip down her chin and drop onto her tits when she released his girthy cock from her lips, and she wasted no time in collecting that same cum and pouring it in her mouth.

"Hmmm...just as tasty as the first time."

"Thank you so much, daddy."

"I love draining cocks dry, especially when they are massive like yours."

"The pleasure was all mine, Yuna...trust me."

Yuna smiled before standing up and picking up a tissue from her bag to clean up her face and try to be as presentable as one can be after being completely fucked for the past hour. As for her teacher, he put his clothes back on and watched the young starlet as she was fixing herself. Even though he looked at a naked Yuna dressing up, all he could think about was how on earth he had managed to have sex with an insanely hot and famous K-Pop idol, who practically threw herself at him.

"I should probably go." She said, grabbing her stuff.

"Hey, don't forget your exam...you deserve it, after...you know..."

"Thanks. I hope you had fun, daddy. And just remember...if you need your cock drained, or want me to be your little slutty student again, I'm all yours."

"My...my wife is out of town for the weekend, actually...if y-..."

"Say no more. I'm in!"

"Actually...I'm in as long as you promise me you'll fuck me where your wife sleeps."

"You fucking little slut....."

End of part 1

979 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 28 days ago

Text

P.S.T INTERLUDES. 2 | Deep in the Willow

Male reader x Seulgi, Wendy

10.2k words

tags: sorrow( :( ), whipped cream, threesome, anal, fucktoy wendy

━•✦•━•✦•━

"So? How's Europe?"

Rina was on the other side of the screen on FaceTime with you. She was in London, the second stop on the European leg of Aespa's tour. The cute angel looked tired, her hair loose and somewhat disheveled, already dressed in the blue pajamas she loved as she spoke to you at length about her recent experiences.

"And god, Minjeong has been clingier than usual!" Rina said in an exasperated tone. "Not having you around makes it a damn group task to keep her from going crazy."

"Speaking of not having any of us around…" You took a moment to consider the words, aware of how sensitive the subject was for everyone. "How's the new manager? I imagine the change hasn't been easy."

Rina's expression darkened as she looked down. It pained her to remember that Jihye was no longer her manager as much as it pained you to not have her by your side.

"Well… he's not Jihye, but he takes good care of us," Rina looked up. "At least he doesn't ask me to give him head. That's good."

You both burst out laughing at the memory.

"You can't complain, though," you pointed out. "That little favor led to those nights in Miami. I wouldn't trade anything for it."

"That's true," Rina smiled, and you heard her bedroom door open. "We have to do that again. You know, when the tide goes out a little."

"Jimin-ah!" you heard Minjeong say. "It's supposed to be girls' night and you're here. You said we'd watch Little Women!"

"Coming, coming!" Rina said. She squealed when one of the girls tickled her as a threat. "We were just catching up! We're leaving now."

Minjeong pulled Rina away from her own phone to say hello. Ning and then Aeri joined her on either side to do the same.

"How have you been, darling?" Ning asked.

Damn, what a question. How were you? Being in the eye of the storm day after day hadn't let you stop and think about it. It seemed crazy, but it wasn't. You didn't really know how you were. That's what happened when you were busy all the time: your mental health took a backseat, like going on autopilot through life. Honestly, you didn't know if that was good or bad.

"I've been fine, dear," you opted to say. "At least I'd like to think so."

Minjeong took the whole frame to herself.

"Any news about Jihye?" she asked, hoping for good news.

Another difficult question. Only you were expecting that one, and you were dreading it. You couldn't blame Minjeong for asking it; after all, she must still be feeling guilty about the whole thing.

Three months had passed since the events at the airport, and aside from rumors that were just rumors and the occasional leaked message from Gunwook, Jihye's existence had come to feel like a mere dream. Something that was once too good and beautiful to be true. Something that had been taken away from you.

Because yes, she was taken away from you. From you and the girls.

You took a deep breath and searched your phone for the last message Gunwook had given you about her.

"And I quote: Jihye and Irene are fine," you said. "She misses the girls and is constantly watching fancams and supporting them from Seoul. She also wanted me to tell you all that technically she was still your boss, just a few steps above you. So you better not disappoint her."

When you exited the messaging app and zoomed in on FaceTime again, you were met with faces full of mixed emotions.

"Oh… okay," Minjeong said. "Well, it's good to know we still have her support."

"I really miss her…" Ning added softly.

And a silence fell between you.

"I'll keep you updated, I promise," you said after a few seconds. "But right now you have a movie to watch and I have work to do."

The girls said their goodbyes one by one, Rina being the last. And so, your video call with the girls ended.

Bringing you back to the harsh and exhausting reality.

Shortly after the pool party, work had you by the throat with a grip that wouldn't loosen. Just as Gunwook and Jihye had anticipated some time ago, the level of paranoia among the upper management after the incident with the reporter had skyrocketed. Now they had you hunting down college boys and forcing them to cut off all contact with idols or trainees from their companies.

Interestingly, JYP was the complete opposite, considerably more flexible and permissive. They were somewhat strict, as you'd expect, but they were everything the other agencies weren't: humane. That confirmed to you that all this time, Gunwook had indeed been on the right side of history and was truly putting his effort into his fight to give idols decent lives. Thank god he was winning it.

That was a relief, because over the past three months, the two of you had become more than just coworkers; you could now call each other a friend. It would have been a shame to throw that away if he had turned out to be another heartless maniac.

And speaking of JYP, ITZY started preparing for their world tour not long after the pool party.

The stress was making them all miserable, but it was Lia who, sadly, finally gave in to the pressure and requested a hiatus so she could take care of her mental health after so many years of working day and night nonstop. She would be close to her family, right where she needed to be to heal, so you remained calm about it, knowing everything would be okay for her.

But that didn't mean you didn't miss her like crazy. Lia was one of those rays of sunshine who always helped you move forward, and now it was the ray of sunshine who needed help to move forward. It broke your heart, and you couldn't do anything but pray for her return as soon as possible.

Other than that, the only thing you could do while the girls were all on tour was throw yourself into your new job. Nayeon and Chaeyeon had been trying to distract you from that from time to time, and while they had usually succeeded, the most common thing was for you to joke about them having to make an appointment with your receptionist first.

The same receptionist who, at that time of the afternoon, was helping you with your notes. Being on the dirty side of the industry, Gunwook had suggested you keep a file as a burn book, and one of the day's tasks had basically been to update the records to stay current.

Of course, you weren't stupid. The file contained a long list of many things the agencies wanted kept secret that only a few of you knew, so the most sensible thing was to give code names to each of the idols involved in each case. Western names, mostly. And the password for that file was saved in a notebook in your personal safe.

You were just doing that last thing. But as you were entering the safe combination to store the notebook, your phone vibrated on your desk. Gunwook was the one calling.

It wasn't uncommon for him to call at that time of the afternoon, so you quickly assumed he'd either invite you over for drinks and karaoke, or invite you over to his house to show off his collection of fine liquors. So you took the call without fear.

"Hello?" you answered, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you continued doing what you were doing.

"Hey man," Gunwook said. "Look, I hate to make this call, but it's best to give you a heads-up."

Well, and there went all your hope for a peaceful, normal call.

"You're going to get a call soon, from my namesake at HYBE. I'm sure you remember him from the airport."

"Uh… yeah, I remember him. Unfortunately," you said, closing the safe and signaling for your receptionist to leave.

"Well, what he's going to ask you to do tomorrow is probably the most messed up thing you've done so far."

"Gunwook, you're scaring me," You sat up straighter in your seat and leaned back.

"Tomorrow you'll have to go to the HYBE building, using the same underground parking garage as always so as not to attract attention. And listen to me carefully," his tone became more imperative, but also lower. "You can't, and you won't, talk to the girl you're picking up. She'll be wearing a mask, cap and sunglasses, so you won't know who she is."

Suddenly, a chill ran through you. The words stuck in your mouth, and already feeling anxious, you stood up to pace slowly around your office.

"Look, this shit sounds wrong, Gunwook. What the fuck am I getting myself into?"

"You're going to take her to a clinic, and before you get her out, you're going to make sure there's only the necessary personnel inside for her… operation."

"So much secrecy for a simple cosmetic surgery?" you asked. "I've already taken idols to appointments like that. What's the difference here?"

"This isn't plastic surgery we're talking about, kid," Gunwook said, his voice shaking throughout the sentence.

That alone was enough to make reality hit you like a speeding truck. The chills returned, and with them the unpleasant feeling of your stomach crumpling like a cardboard bag.

"You don't have to say anything else, Gun," you said. "The topic is difficult for me to broach, let alone for you with your religious beliefs."

"You have no idea," Gunwook sighed. "The decision wasn't mine, but my priest will definitely find out about this at my next confession."

There was a much-needed silence between you.

"I know this is heavy, kid," Gunwook began again, his voice calmer now. "But we need you to be a professional tomorrow. With something this delicate, you're going to be under scrutiny all day, and yes, they're going to be on your trail too. I also recommend you don't write this down in your notes; it'll be like it never happened."

Just as he finished speaking, you received a second call. An unknown number. It had to be him.

"It's happening, dude," you said. "I'll call you back later."

"Sure. Good luck, bro. And God bless."

With that, you hung up on Gunwook and answered the other one.

As you expected, the HYBE representative told you everything Gunwook had already told you you would do, but lacked the tact with which your friend spoke about it. He even mentioned that the root of the problem had been this girl and her stupid boyfriend not using protection. To the surprise of no one.

The son of a bitch sounded like a robot: not a hint of emotion as he talked about the matter. He didn't sound worried, or disturbed, or anything. He didn't care at all. It was fucking sickening to hear him talk, especially since he talked about the girl—whom you decided to call Rosemary—as if she were a damn animal.

All you could hope for was that one day karma would knock on that bastard's door and force him to testify.

The weight of what was going to happen tomorrow fell heavily and oppressively on your shoulders on the ride home. You were one of those who believed that women could do whatever they wanted with their bodies, and that the decision was solely theirs. But in this case, you felt like the decision was everyone's but hers.

For the love of God, poor girl.

Much to your chagrin, you had to swallow all your worries and go with the flow. You were in the middle of a war, and as low and mean as that seemed to you, there were battles better lost. So tomorrow you'd be a good soldier and do whatever was asked of you.

But fuck. Poor girl. All because she was an imperfect human, like you and everyone else. The only difference was that, in Rosemary's case, she'd chosen the wrong industry in which to make mistakes.

The next morning, you arrived punctually at the meeting point designated by the HYBE representative: the underground entrance to the main building, which was accessible only with prior authorization. You parked right in front of the exit, as instructed.

Anxiety was eating away at you from the inside. Over time, you'd trained your stomach to cope with the pressure of dealing with these kinds of situations. But this absolutely surpassed all extremes. There was nothing about it that felt right or normal.

The demons didn't keep you waiting long. A couple of minutes after your arrival, a security guard came out, escorting a girl who perfectly matched the description Gunwook had given you. Rosemary hurried to follow the path the security guard indicated, head down and arms crossed as she was ushered into the backseat of the sedan you had rented for the day.

When the girl settled into the seat, the guard closed the door and approached your window, which you had to roll down. He bent down and rested a forearm on the edge of the window.

"Look, kid, I don't think I need to remind you how crucial it is that everything goes smoothly today," his tone of voice was subtle and kind, but you could see in his eyes that he was trying to intimidate you. "You can't, and you won't screw this up. There will be zero tolerance."

He then took a folded piece of paper out of his front jacket pocket and handed it to you.

"That's the address you'll be going," he pointed as you opened the paper. "Don't even think about using the GPS. Just follow the street signs."

"Understood," you nodded. "There'll be no problem."

"Good. Get out of here."

The guard stepped back and signaled for you to get going.

According to the address they'd given you, and according to your calculations, it would take you around 15 minutes to get there. 15 minutes in which you'd have to deal with the awkward silence inside the car, because you couldn't talk to her, and you also couldn't play music because it would be too out of place.

It was going to be a fucking horrible ride.

There was a huge chasm between you and Rosemary. No connection at all. When you got a taxi, the driver would at least try to make conversation once in a while, or play the radio at a considerable volume to keep the atmosphere pleasant. But at that moment, all you were forced to hear was the sound of the engine running and the air conditioning. Nothing else. It was unbearable. And it must have been even worse for her.

The worst part wasn't that, but the uncomfortable feeling that you weren't transporting a sentient person. The mask, the cap, the sunglasses, and the fact that she remained silent the entire trip certainly didn't help either. Rosemary was being treated like a disposable object, and that was exactly the feeling all of this gave you. Fuck, you just wanted it to end soon.

Your calculations were correct, and you arrived at the clinic about 15 minutes later. It wasn't exactly a seedy place, but it wasn't the kind of clinic a famous person would go to for medical problems.

"Stay here for a moment, please," you said to Rosemary, breaking the silence after all that time. "I'll pick you up right away."

Rosemary didn't say anything, just nodded distractedly.

Getting out of the car, you went straight into the clinic and followed the protocol they'd given you to the letter. You'd been told the staff was already aware of everything, so your job was to make sure everyone remembered the importance of everything running smoothly that day. Part of the job also involved questioning the nurses specifically, to prevent any potential leaks. You weren't going to be in charge of the doctors; coercing them would be the job of your superiors.

After making sure the staff was trustworthy, you left the clinic and opened the car door for Rosemary to get out. Then you escorted her inside, looking in every possible direction for onlookers. But even four eyes in your back couldn't have saved you from the car that was parking behind yours at that very moment. Instantly, a man you didn't recognize got out.

Then you remembered what Gunwook had told you: 'They're going to be on your trail too.'

Fuck, they were good. More than once, you'd looked in the car's rearview mirror to see if anyone was following you, and not once had you seen that car. Terrifying.

You simply motioned for Rosemary to walk inside. You followed her.

The nurses quickly took care of her, directing you to sit and wait on some benches near the reception desk. Anxious for everything to go well and your heart pounding, you nodded and sat down for a wait that seemed like an eternity. You weren't one to overthink things, but hundreds of ways this could somehow go wrong ran through your mind.

Fortunately, the doctor came out of the operating room half an hour later to tell you that everything had gone perfectly, and that she would be discharged in about an hour. Only then did you allow yourself to relax.

"So…" the doctor folded his hands behind his back. "About the payment?"

"Uhm…" you frowned. You had assumed HYBE had already taken care of that.

The doctor and you turned your heads toward the clinic entrance when the man who'd parked behind you walked in, a duffle bag in his hand, presumably full of money.

"Every won is in here, doc," the man said, placing the duffle bag on the ground. "With a little something extra as a thank you for your professionalism."

"Thank you," the doctor bowed and took the bag without hesitation.

"Now you know the drill: I need every tool you used to dispose of them. Including what was already discarded."

"Sure," the doctor nodded.

He turned to signal one of the nurses, who shortly returned with everything packed in vacuum-sealed ziplock bags, which were then handed to the HYBE man.

"Excellent. Pleasure doing business," the HYBE man now turned to you. "You're almost there, kid. Keep going and don't do anything stupid. I have plans tonight, and I wouldn't want to cancel because I have to clean up your messes."

"Whatever you say, man," you replied, already mentally exhausted, perhaps in a less than friendly tone. "I know what I'm doing."

"You better."

The man then turned around and left the way he'd come in. A few seconds later, you heard his car start and speed off down the street.

An hour passed until Rosemary finally emerged from the operating room, flanked by two nurses who had been guiding her.

The sight of the poor girl broke your heart.

Rosemary walked with her head down, slightly hunched over, hugging herself, her steps somewhat unsteady. As she got closer, you could notice her hands were shaking. In another context, you would have assumed she had some kind of severe concussion, but on second thought, the apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

For the love of god, what the hell was wrong with the world? That was exactly what a girl whose decision about her body had been ignored, trampled on, and spat on looked like. You would have said she looked fragile, but no.

That girl was already broken.

"All set to go, ma’am?" you asked one of the nurses.

"Yes, sir," a nurse nodded. "Make sure she doesn't get too agitated."

"It'll be no problem, thank you very much," you motioned for Rosemary to walk ahead of you. "Good afternoon."

And so, in a matter of minutes, you were back at the HYBE building, a journey that was uneventful but had left you feeling unpleasantly sick.

When you parked in front of the same underground entrance, you heard a girl talking. You thought it was someone outside the car, but when you listened closely, you realized it was Rosemary talking. Some medication must have loosened her tongue.

"This is bullshit," Rosemary said to herself with a chuckle. "I didn't do anything the other girls didn't do. Nothing. I just had bad luck. It's fucking bullshit…"

Your orders were not to speak to the girl, and you did your best to hold your tongue.

"I probably would have made that decision myself," Rosemary continued. "But it all happened so fast I didn't even have time to think about it."

There was another long pause. The HYBE employee was taking his considerable time appearing.

"So much work… so much effort put into all of this," Rosemary's voice cracked, and even you could feel the lump in her throat. "It was my dream. Fuck… it was my dream…" she sobbed. "All wasted for 20 minutes under the covers. I'm an idiot."

Your stomach lurched. You looked out the window, biting your nails, your face dismayed. It was so painful to hear her blame herself, so heartbreaking, that you couldn't help but glance at her in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, you can still debut," you said. "You'll be able to handle all of this, I'm sure. Lean on your other trainees…"

Rosemary started laughing through her tears.

"I can tell you're new on this side of the pond," she mocked. "A little naive and too sweet. I appreciate your concern, but my fate is already sealed. The company agreed to settle my debt in exchange for signing an NDA, and then they'll fabricate a bullying scandal in my name to get me out of the group. Simple as that."

Then finally, the same HYBE employee from a few hours ago came out to pick up Rosemary.

"Wait a second here," he said as Rosemary got out of the car.

The man motioned for Rosemary to come inside the building with him. And that was the last time you saw her.

He returned a few minutes later, carrying a duffle bag similar to the one given to the doctor, but not much smaller. He placed it on the passenger seat.

"Good job today, kid," he said, and without further ado, he walked back inside.

When the man disappeared from your sight, you opened the bag a little to confirm what it was: money, and quite a bit of it. As always, it was going to be a pain to declare it to the tax authorities, but thanks to Gunwook, you had made some contacts that would make things easier.

However, money was the least of your problems at that moment.

Despite having already finished the job, the bad feeling wouldn't go away. Not even when on the way home you'd put on some music in the car to try to wash your brain of the memories of that day. It was useless; you were on autopilot, unable to feel good even knowing that none of it was your fault and that there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.

It was a call from Gunwook that brought you back to reality at a stoplight.

"Hi," you answered halfheartedly.

"Hey bro, how are you holding up?" Gunwook asked.

You sighed, staring blankly at the red light. A light drizzle had begun to fall at that time of the afternoon, even though it was almost October and the rainy season had already passed.

"How do you think?"

"Sure, it was a stupid question, sorry."

"Nah, you good."

"I don't feel much better than you, if that helps, but hey, did you eat already?"

"I plan on doing it when I get home. I don't feel like stopping to eat anywhere right now."

"You can come over tonight if you want," Gunwook said. "You know, we'll grill some steaks and have a drink, and my wife can make us a salad."

"Honestly, I think what I need is time at home. I…"

"That'll work!" Gunwook interrupted. "I can take the steaks and beer over there."

"Gun, I appreciate it, but no. I just want to unwind."

"Well… okay," Gunwook finally relented, hesitantly. "Anyway, I'm just a phone call away, buddy."

"I know, thanks. Have a nice afternoon."

You hung up and waited a few more seconds until the light turned green again.

Once you got home, you went straight to the couch and sat down, surrounded by a cold and profound silence, wondering how much longer you could endure all that fucking torment. After all, the person you were willing to do all this for in the first place didn't show even the slightest hint of caring. So what was the point?

Your sense of time vanished as you sat there, sunk in the middle of a moral dilemma that was starting to give you a headache. Your stomach growled, but you didn't have the strength to get up and cook anything. You didn't even change your position during the thirty minutes you were dissociating.

But a soft, unusual knock on your door awakened all your senses, completely certain that you were now a loose end that they, the demons, needed to burn. It was probably just your paranoia, but you had reason to believe such a thing. At that point, you saw them as capable of anything.

The heaviest object within reach was an acoustic guitar Chaery had given you a while back. You picked it up by the neck and walked toward the door as cautiously as possible. Two more knocks, and you were already preparing to smash the guitar over someone's head.

"Hey, we know you're there," you heard… Seulgi? say from the other side of the door. "Don't play hard to get."

Of all the voices you expected to hear that night, Seulgi's certainly wasn't one of them. After leaning the guitar against the wall next to the door, you opened it to find two beauties standing in the doorway.

"Hey tiger, long time no see, huh?" Wendy greeted, as Seulgi threw her arms around your neck and hugged you.

The thoughts of wanting to be alone in your bubble of misery and dismay disappeared when you saw Wendy smile and when you wrapped your arms around Seulgi's body.

But the fact that the two of them were there, at that time of day and after everything that had happened, seemed suspicious. Something didn't fit.

"Wait a minute," you pulled away from Seulgi, somewhat distracted by the fact that they were both wearing outfits that left their midriffs exposed. "How did you know my day was a total mess?"

Seulgi placed her hand on your chest and led you inside. Wendy, being the last to enter, closed the door behind her.

"We don't know all the details," Seulgi began as you hugged Wendy. "And maybe this isn't what you want to hear right now, but Gunwook called Jihye and told her he was worried about you."

Wendy went to sit on your couch when you gestured for her to sit. Seulgi walked beside you, following the same path.

"He told her that today you'd have to do something you'd never had to do before and that he knew it would affect you," Seulgi sat down next to Wendy, and you sat down next to her. "After talking to Gunwook, Jihye shared her concern with Irene, and as soon as Irene got some time alone she called us and asked us to come check on you."

Knowing that Jihye still cared about you made you feel like an idiot. How could you even dare doubt the most wonderful woman you'd ever met? It was even insulting to the memory you had of her. Never again.

But Irene?

Was she showing signs of being a real, sentient person? Or was this just another one of her tricks? It's not like you held a furious grudge against her, but anything she did was enough to make you doubt her. It wasn't your fault, though; she'd earned that reputation the hard way.

"What, are you surprised it was Irene who sent us here?" Seulgi asked, curious by your silence. "I told you she wasn't all evil."

"She also forbade us from telling Jihye we were coming to see you," Wendy added. "She didn't want you to think it was a way to curry favor with you. She really does care about you."

Irene legitimately worried about you? Wow, that sounded idyllic. It was something to behold.

"And I thought nothing could surprise me anymore," you said, slumped in your seat with your arms crossed. "But it seems you all have tricks up your sleeves."

Then you began to share your day with them, perhaps skipping details and not explaining yourself very well on some things, but in a way that helped you vent and process everything with a cool head and out of the fire. Wendy and Seulgi listened attentively to every word, careful not to interrupt you more than necessary. When you finished letting out everything you were feeling, Wendy kissed your cheek and stood up to go to the kitchen, rummage through your pantry, and start making dinner for the three of you.

Seulgi snuggled up against you, her head resting on your collarbone on the left side, wrapped in your arm.

"I'm so sorry you're having to go through all this, darling," Seulgi said after a while, wrapping an arm around your abdomen to hug you. "And believe me, I'm just as devastated as you are for that poor girl." She turned her head to look at you closely. "But beating ourselves up about it won't get us anywhere."

"You knew this wasn't going to be an easy road and that you were going to need some serious balls to get through it. I have faith in you and your desire to help all these people, and I love your nobility. But it won't happen overnight, sweetheart. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You remained silent, not quite sure what to say to such kind words. Seulgi understood, and being the care bear she was, she only hugged you tighter. You hugged her back and closed your eyes.

"Thank you, little bear," you sighed. "In case I haven't thanked you enough for everything."

"I don't need you to. You deserve everything for always being so sweet to us."

"Guys, dinner's ready!" Wendy said from the kitchen behind you. "Come on."

You and Seulgi stood up and went to sit at the dining table. Wendy had prepared chicken wraps with orange juice, something quick and delicious that she knew you'd love.

Wendy carried the plates to the table and sat across from you, Seulgi to your left. Then, you proceeded to eat while catching up. You hadn't seen Wendy in a while, so it was only natural that she did most of the talking throughout dinner.

The levity of the conversation managed to wash away all the bad feelings you had after the events of that day. It was strange, but lately, there were very frequent moments when you stopped to appreciate the wonderful friendships you'd made and all the good things that had happened to you thanks to the questionable career decisions you'd made so far. You were extremely lucky for that.

But at that moment, all your gratitude was directed toward those two women who were eating with you that night. Who knows where your thoughts would have gone if they hadn't shown up? The range of stupid decisions was wide, and every one of them ended with you either at a severe disadvantage or potentially in a black bag in the Han River.

Blessed were Jihye and Irene, after all.

"Hey, aren't you hungrier by any chance?" Wendy asked half an hour later, when you'd finished eating and talking.

"Hungrier?" you asked. "Why?"

"I don't know…" you heard Wendy take off her sneakers, and a moment later, you felt one of her feet on your inner right thigh. "I'm kind of hungry for more than just food."

Seulgi placed her hand on your other thigh, and you turned to face her. Where had her black jacket gone?

"I think me too, you know?" Seulgi said. Her fingers tightened on your thigh, and her hand moved up to grope your bulge. "I guess it's because I didn't have lunch today."

"You guys are big eaters then, aren't you?" you asked, as Wendy rubbed one of your thighs with her foot and Seulgi worked you up with her hand.

"Only on very specific days," Seulgi replied, and when you wrapped your left arm around her back to hold her waist, she kissed you.

Seulgi immediately unbuttoned your pants, unzipped your zipper, and pulled your hard cock out of your boxers, wrapping her fingers around it and slowly moving her wrist. Wendy added to the equation by lifting her foot slightly and rubbing the back of your shaft and your balls with her toes.

Since you found it impossible to stay still with Kang Seulgi by your side, you brought your right hand to her perfect tummy and caressed it with your fingertips before undoing her belt, unbuttoning her pants, and reaching in to rub her pussy over her panties.

Seulgi let out a soft moan against your lips and cupped the side of your face with her left hand, while the other moved off your cock to unzip her pants, pull down the top of her pink crop top and pull up the bottom so it was bunched up just below her breasts, which were currently covered by a black bra.

Wendy took advantage of Seulgi's release of your cock and leaned back in the chair to lift her other leg, take your shaft between her feet, and move them up and down.

Seconds later, Seulgi's panties became slightly wet from you rubbing circles on her clit. You then took your hand out of her pants, and before moving it to her breasts, you used your left hand to unclasp her bra, revealing those pretty mounds. Seulgi bit your lip and sighed when you pinched one of her nipples, returning her hand to your cock.

"Do you have any whipped cream?" you heard Wendy ask with a moan.

Frowning, you broke away from Seulgi's lips to turn to look at her; the question seemed odd to you. Wendy had already removed her black crop top and bra. Only her necklace remained, the cross perfectly positioned between her small, bare breasts.

Wendy just looked you in the eye and bit her lower lip. You didn't need any further explanation; you got it immediately.

"In the fridge," you replied. "I just bought it yesterday."

Wendy smirked, slid her legs off your lap, and stood up to go to the kitchen. Meanwhile, you and Seulgi stood up and walked over to the couch to kiss again. Seulgi grabbed the hem of your pants and boxers and pulled them both down. Returning the gesture, you took care of her pants and panties, and also took off your sweater so that both of you were naked.

Seulgi pushed you down onto the couch, then straddled you to cradle your face and deepen the kiss. Her pussy ground against your cock, and she ground her hips slowly to rub it between her wet folds. Your hands immediately went to grope her firm ass.

"Dessert is served!" Wendy said, standing behind you. "Come here, unnie."

Seulgi pulled away from your lips and looked up. You both looked at Wendy, who was holding the tub of whipped cream. Seulgi smiled and straightened her back, sticking out her chest so Wendy could cover her tits with whipped cream.

Wendy tapped you on the back of the neck with her middle finger.

"Come on, you know what to do," she urged.

Maybe your memory was failing at the moment, but you couldn't remember a single time you'd done that. Seulgi's tits looked stupidly hot, tho, and you loved whipped cream, reason enough to lean your head forward and start licking and sucking as slowly as you could.

Seulgi seemed to like it as much as you did, letting out small, muffled moans as she held the back of your neck, her fingers tugging at strands of your hair. Wendy joined you on the couch, sitting on your left side, completely naked except for her necklace. She knelt up and poured whipped cream on her small tits, so when you were finished with Seulgi, you could move on to hers.

Wendy moaned and wrapped her arms around your neck as you licked the whipped cream off her perky little nipples. Seulgi climbed off you and sat on your right side, grabbing the can of whipped cream and pouring just a little on the tip of your cock. Then, she bent down, licked it, and wrapped her lips around it to suck a few inches of your shaft.

"Hmm, I want to do that too," Wendy gasped. "Stand up."

You obeyed and stood in front of the couch. Seulgi and Wendy sat back on their heels, side by side, and both leaned toward your cock to lick and kiss it from different sides. It was Wendy who grabbed the can of whipped cream to pour it in a straight line from your base to your tip, and without a second's hesitation, she opened her mouth and took a sizable portion of your shaft inside until her lips closed and moved up. There was a bit of cream left near your base, but Seulgi was quick to lick it off.

Wendy sucked your cock with sensual pumps of her head, savoring the whipped cream she had collected as Seulgi poured more cream onto the few inches of your shaft that Wendy couldn't reach, using her tongue to lick it clean and suck on it.

When Wendy pulled out of her mouth, Seulgi took her place, sucking on almost the same number of inches of your cock as Wendy, who moved down to cup your balls, fill them with whipped cream, and bring them to her mouth. You moaned, one hand on both heads. You watched them have fun with your cock for a few minutes, letting them slurp and lick as much whipped cream as they wanted from it. Soon your cock was slick and saliva-soaked.

"Would you let me have a little fun too?" you asked, taking the can of whipped cream from Seulgi's hand.

"Oh sure, baby," Seulgi smiled, turning her back on you to lean forward and rest her hands on the back of the couch, her beautiful ass now at your mercy.

Wendy imitated her, and in a few seconds, both beauties were on all fours on your couch. The temptation to fuck them right away was there, but the desire to taste those asses and pussies was even bigger. So, you started by swirling whipped cream twice over each of Seulgi's buttocks, then bent your knees, grabbed her thighs, and licked the cream off, adding kisses and bites.

Moving to Wendy, you spanked her buttocks a couple of times and made her squeal, knowing she loved spanks. Then, on the red marks your hands had left, you poured cream the same way you did with Seulgi and repeated the process.

"Fuck, you must be in heaven, right?" Seulgi asked with a chuckle.

"You have no idea," you smiled, delighting in licking and kissing Wendy's cute, tight asshole. "And I haven't even eaten your pussies yet."

"Then what are you waiting for, hunk?" Wendy asked, looking over her shoulder at you. "Can't you see how wet you've got me?"

"What, needy already?" you asked back. "I can tell we haven't seen each other in months."

"Oh god, shut your mouth and… oh fuck yes," Wendy moaned when you grabbed her ass cheeks and brought your mouth to her pussy. "That's it, that's exactly it."

You gave Wendy a quick taste, licking and kissing between her folds. You also allowed yourself to move up a bit and pay attention to her butthole, making her moan louder since that was one of her sensitive spots.

"Hey, cutie," Seulgi called. "Over here."

Turning around, you found Seulgi spread-eagled, her head resting on the armrest at the end of the couch. Her pussy was covered in a line of whipped cream. Unable to resist, you moved away from Wendy and knelt on the floor in front of Seulgi, grabbing her thighs and wiping the cream off her pussy with a single upward lick.

Wendy lay between Seulgi and the back of the couch and hugged her, attacking her neck with kisses. Seulgi moaned, one hand in your hair as you savored the cream and ate her pussy, and the other cupping Wendy's face as she kissed her.

Seconds later, Wendy and Seulgi's lips met. The two women shared a passionate and sensual kiss, groping each other. Wendy rubbed Seulgi's clit, and Seulgi played with Wendy's small tits. The scene made your cock throb, especially seeing that pair of perfect tummies side by side.

Something occurred to you.

You left Seulgi's pussy and knelt in front of them, grabbing the can of whipped cream and pouring three lines on Seulgi's belly. You leaned down, grabbed her waist, and licked the sweet cream directly from her firm flesh. You did the same with Wendy, savoring the cream while you covered her toned abdomen with wet kisses and licks.

After indulging in that little treat, you went a little higher and, leaving the whipped cream aside, brought both pairs of tits to your mouth again. Seulgi reached down and grabbed your cock to rub it. Wendy, for her part, had you by the side of your neck while you were focused on her. A minute later, you rose up towards their faces, and the three of you merged into a dirty, saliva-filled triple kiss.

"Mmm, I'm assuming you're going to want to get fucked first, right?" you asked Wendy seconds later. "Seulgi can't protest; she already paid me a visit a few days ago."

Seulgi frowned.

"I don't know how that has to do with…"

"You're assuming right, sweetie," Wendy nodded, ignoring Seulgi. "You must be missing one of your favorite tight pussies, aren't you?"

"You can't imagine," you gave her a small kiss. "Wanna ride me?"

"No, right now I want you to pound my pussy like you've been saving that energy for all the days we haven't seen each other," Wendy replied, looking into your eyes with every word.

Wendy knelt up so you could wrap your arm around her small body and carry her to the opposite side of the couch, laying her on her back and spreading her legs. You spit on your cock to lubricate it, and without wasting much more time, you placed the tip inside Wendy's pussy and slowly pushed forward.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," Wendy gasped, watching as you buried every inch inside her tight pussy until it bulged her abdomen. "Oh my god, wait," she writhed with a hand on your abdomen. "You're the biggest thing I've ever had inside me, and it's been too long."

Seulgi moved to the other end of the couch, which had a wider space, and got on her hands and knees, facing you, her face directly above Wendy's. She stroked her beautiful short brown hair and grabbed Wendy's face to force her to look at you.

"Ask him to fuck you really hard, go on," Seulgi said in a low, silky voice. "I know you're ready. You just like feeling him stretch you from the inside out."

Wendy looked you straight in the eyes as you held her left thigh against hers and left the other loose. Her face was flushed, making her pale skin look even prettier.

"Fuck me really, really hard, sweetie," Wendy moaned, caressing your abdomen with her fingertips. "My pussy needs it. I need it."

Fuck, you'd almost forgotten how submissive Wendy had always been.

"Don't beg anymore, gorgeous," you said with the same gentleness Seulgi had used, starting to slowly move your hips. "You know I always spoil you."

With that, you spent only a few seconds fucking her pussy slowly until you drastically increased your speed, making Wendy smother moans against Seulgi's lips. Her tiny waist was your initial point of grip, digging your fingers hard into her flesh as you shook her petite body with hard, fast thrusts.

Seulgi quickly grew aroused just watching you fuck Wendy and let out little moans as well. She leaned forward over Wendy's body, lowering her head to suck and lick her tits. Her ass looked really inviting from there, with that beautiful back arched above Wendy's face.

Wendy started moaning louder when Seulgi reached out a hand and began rubbing circles on her clit, in perfect sync with your strong pumping. Seulgi then looked at Wendy's abdomen, which bulged every time your cock went all the way into her pussy, and leaned forward a little further to kiss that constantly rising portion of flesh.

As the seconds passed, Wendy had her first orgasm, arching her back loudly and hugging Seulgi's body on top of her. You heard her muffle her moans against something, but it was Seulgi's face twisting that made you realize it was her pussy.

"Oh girl, you shouldn't have done that," Seulgi gasped, and turned around to straddle Wendy's face, pinning her arms with her knees. She leaned forward, arching her back again so you could see in detail how Wendy ate her pussy. "You keep at it, champ. She's loving every second of this."

You went from holding Wendy's waist to her thighs, pressing both of them against her torso as you gradually resumed your rhythm. Soon you were pounding her pussy again, so hard that it made her breathing ragged and her nails digging into Seulgi's ass.

Wendy had another orgasm not long after. Her whimpers, muffled against Seulgi's tender, wet flesh, were like music to your ears as you gently fucked her and she squirmed her hips. She instinctively moved one of her feet to your mouth, and of course you accepted it with kisses and sucks on her big toe.

"Don't you think it's my turn now, baby?" Seulgi asked, knowing her ass looked irresistible from that spot.

You pulled out of Wendy's pussy and crawled over her until you were kneeling above her chest, just behind Seulgi's ass. Wendy's first instinct was to capture your balls with her mouth, giving them light suction and licking. But then she grabbed your cock herself and guided it into Seulgi's pussy.

"Fuck, what a view," Wendy said, watching your cock force its way between Seulgi's walls from below. "I fucking love being bisexual."

Wendy continued licking your balls and the underside of your cock until you buried every inch inside Seulgi. Then her focus shifted to her unnie's pussy. Seulgi moaned, both from feeling your cock stretching her and from Wendy's licking. You were just as overwhelmed with pleasure as she was.

"Thank god she's such a good girl," Seulgi moaned, propped up on her elbows. She was looking forward as she ran her hand through her hair.

With Seulgi, you prolonged the slow pumps a little longer, just wanting to feel a little more of the wonders Wendy was doing beneath you. As the seconds passed, you couldn't help going faster, but that didn't stop Wendy from eating Seulgi's pussy like it was a divine command.

"Oh my god, yes!" Seulgi moaned as you pounded her pussy from behind, hands on her waist. "Please don't stop, don't stop!"

One of your hands moved from her waist to her hair, firmly grabbing a handful of it and speeding up as you were close to your climax. Seulgi came first, trembling on Wendy's face, and the way her pussy suffocated your cock and throbbed around it made you explode with moans as loud as Seulgi's.

"God!" you groaned, leaving only your tip inside Seulgi's pussy as you came, so that when you pulled out, your entire load spilled from Seulgi's folds into Wendy's mouth. "Yeah, that's a good girl."

Wendy took every drop that fell from Seulgi's pussy, savored it, and swallowed it without hesitation, then stuck out her tongue and cleaned the rest herself. As a reward, you took your cock and guided it into her mouth. She took it with a moan and sucked it until it was glistening.

"Don't even think I'm done with you," Seulgi told you between gasps, looking back into your eyes. "You know exactly what I want, and I know you want to give it to me."

"I've never refused it," you replied.

You got off Wendy and went to Seulgi, taking up the space on that side she wasn't occupying. As soon as you lay down and rested your head on the small of the couch, Seulgi straddled you. And without even letting your cock soften, she took you back into her pussy and began moving her hips on you.

It was a little painful at first, but nothing you weren't used to with her, especially since she hated breaks. Seulgi bent over you and kissed you while moving her hips on your cock. Your hands went to her waist and quickly went down to her ass as she began to bounce, almost twerking on your shaft.

"Does it feel good for you now, baby?" Seulgi asked in your ear, knowing it had been a bit painful for you. She made you smile at her ability to be so sweet despite the lewd moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you nodded with a giggle, wrapping your arms around her back to hug her. "You're free to go wild."

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, as Seulgi took it quite seriously. She bounced faster and faster on your cock, showing off the excellent control she had over her hips. Then you heard a spank, one you hadn't given her. Glancing to your right, you saw Wendy kneeling beside you, playing with herself with one hand and holding Seulgi's lower back with the other.

"Pay no attention to me," Wendy said. She hadn't noticed that she still had a few drops of cum on her chin. "I'm just watching."

Despite being ‘just watching’, Wendy gave Seulgi another spank that made her squeal. But your amused smile turned into a grimace of pleasure when Seulgi planted her feet on the couch and began bouncing like an unstoppable force of nature on your cock, her hands on your chest and her eyes fixed on yours. Her body had picked up a light layer of sweat, giving it a soft sheen thanks to the living room lights.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!!" Seulgi moaned, reaching up for you to suck on her fingers. You did so without hesitation, playing with her tits until she came again with a grunt.

Seulgi lowered her knees back onto the couch and ground herself against it, your cock buried deep inside her pussy. She throbbed deliciously inside, her silky, suffocating walls making you moan. Her body fell towards you, and with her tits pressed against your chest, she moved her hips up and down as she rode out her orgasm.

Your cock accidentally popped out of Seulgi's pussy, and Wendy was quick to grab it with one hand and suck it with desperate, sloppy slurps.

"Do you want more, you submissive little whore?" you asked, reaching out to grab her ass.

"You ask that like you don't know me," Wendy replied with kisses to your cock, then released it to stand in front of the couch. "Come on, come."

"I love that you guys think I have unlimited energy," you sighed, looking at Seulgi, still panting and with her hair disheveled. "Get off me, big ass."

Seulgi got off you and let you stand.

Wendy was pretty predictable when she wanted something, and that something was you grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her up into the air so she could wrap her legs around your torso. Once that was done, she grabbed your neck and kissed you, letting you grab your cock and guide it inside her.

That woman was small and petite, so it was effortless for you to hold her in the air. This made it easy to manipulate her at will, bouncing her hard and fast on your cock while you held her ass. Wendy squealed against your lips. Her hand was behind your head, tugging at your hair when her arms weren't wrapped around your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seulgi get off the couch and kneel in front of you, right behind Wendy's ass. Her intentions were clear to you, so you spread Wendy's legs from around your torso, held them in the air with a grip behind her knees, and began pounding her pussy while Seulgi ate her butthole.

Wendy filled the entire apartment with screams worthy of the main vocalist she was, visibly overwhelmed by both simultaneous inputs of pleasure. Her eyes glazed over as her head fell back and her nails dug into the back of your neck. She wasn't much of a talker during sex, and this time was no exception. All her enjoyment was expressed in the way her face twisted and her moans modulated according to how close she was to orgasm.

In that case, her orgasm was very close, and a couple of minutes later, she exploded in spasms and intense screams that rattled your eardrums. Seulgi, her work done, stood up and buried her face in Wendy's neck, peppering it with kisses. Then she looked up at you.

"Do you have lube here?" Seulgi asked, while Wendy still wasn't fully recovered from her orgasm, which was still making her thighs tremble.

"Let's go to the bedroom," you said.

Not wanting to put Wendy down because you knew she wouldn't be able to walk, you picked her up and carried her on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around her thighs.

Seulgi led the way to your bedroom, followed closely by you. Upon entering, the first thing she did was go straight to your nightstand in search of the lube while you placed Wendy on the bed. She quickly found it and crawled into your bed to lie on her side and quickly pour the clear liquid on her ass and part of her thighs.

"Fuck, you really need it, don't you?" you asked, watching as she spread the lube until her ass was shiny and slippery.

"I lost count of the last time you fucked my ass, so yeah," Seulgi looked down at Wendy, who was face down with one knee raised higher than the other. Her ass looked too cute, and Seulgi knew it. "Do you want me to do the same to her?"

"She wants you to, but right now she can't string two sentences together without fainting," you replied.

While Seulgi prepped Wendy's ass, you got into bed, positioned yourself in front of her, grabbed your cock, and pressed it against her butthole, slowly inching it in.

"Oh, fuck, wait," Seulgi moaned, still holding Wendy's ass. "I'm not done yet… mmmgh!"

"You said you needed it, and now I'm a busy man. I can't wait forever," you joked with a half-smile.

Your cock slid easily into Seulgi's perfect, amazing, wonderful ass, every inch surrounded by suffocatingly tight flesh. Seulgi did her best to focus on finishing work on Wendy's ass, and when she did, she tossed the bottle of lube away to grab onto your wrist.

"Fuck me hard then, busy man," Seulgi hissed. You were already moving slowly. "Make up for all these months of not treating me."

It was no secret to either of you, but Seulgi's ass always managed to make your head spin, and you couldn't really put your finger on why. It was simply the ass you loved being inside the most besides Aeri's, Chaery's, and Wendy's. Your moans and the way you clung to her waist proved it.

"That's it, that's it," Seulgi moaned, her body increasingly rocked by your thrusts. "Just like that, baby. Didn't you miss your favorite ass?"

Fuck, of course you did, but at that moment, you couldn't respond; you were focused on fucking her faster and harder. The bedroom soon began to reverberate with the sounds of your pelvis colliding with her sticky ass, coupled with Seulgi's moans. You pressed her thigh back and against her torso with both hands, trying to hit her at that angle you knew she'd love. You knew you'd succeeded when Seulgi brought a hand to her mouth and arched her back, squealing.

"Oh god, yesss!!" Seulgi screamed. "I knew you wouldn't forget. Fuck, fuck!!"

Seulgi slammed her hand on the bed when, a minute later, she came in that way you so vividly remembered from your first sessions with them. Like she was possessed, basically. Her face looked damn sexy while she did it, tho. And her ass was squeezing your cock like hell.

Wendy was already watching, eager for her turn, so with a swift movement, you pulled out of Seulgi's ass and straddled Wendy's thighs to guide your cock between her slick buttocks, find her butthole, and slowly enter it.

The big difference between Seulgi and Wendy was that the latter felt everything there, but multiplied by ten. That meant that for every inch of cock you buried inside her ass, the more she lost her mind, to the point where she couldn't even move from the immense pleasure she felt. Within a few seconds, you reached that point, with your cock disappeared between her firm buttocks.

"You love this, don't you, Seungwanie?" you asked Wendy, one hand on her lower back and the other on the back of her neck.

Wendy just nodded weakly, unable to do anything else. Even her face was in a state of partial paralysis; only her mouth moved occasionally to emit muffled sounds and gasps. Then you started fucking her as hard as you were fucking Seulgi a moment ago.

That ass was on par with Seulgi's: just as tight and just as warm. Every inch of your cock slid in and out of her, fast and hard, up and down. Wendy was happy to be pinned to the bed like that; her fingers, both her hands and her toes, wrinkled in approval. Her blank eyes also urged you to keep going.

Within seconds, Wendy had a silent orgasm, but physically you knew it was considerably the most intense, aggressive, and mind-melting of all. The way she writhed, pulling the sheets off the top corner of the bed, made every drop of sweat worth it. But you needed to cum urgently.

Seulgi got on her hands and knees for you, and you returned to her ass to pound it hard from behind, pulling her hair and delivering spank after spank. A while later, when you'd given Wendy enough time to recover, you returned to her and flipped her over onto her back to spread her legs and also fuck her ass like a madman.

You spent a considerable amount of time switching between both asses, and after making them both cum once more, you reached your climax while fucking Wendy.

"Oh fuck!!" You groaned, your fingers digging into Wendy's tiny waist until, with a sudden thrust, you exploded inside her. "Fuckkk!!"

It didn't surprise you that, as you emptied your balls inside her, Wendy came again, and this time she whimpered until tears streamed down her cheeks. You slumped forward and kissed her, filled with nothing but gratitude and affection. Wendy cupped your face with trembling hands and kissed you back, until, out of nowhere, she fainted. It was also normal for her, so you weren't alarmed.

You pulled yourself out of her, and your cum spilled from her butthole onto the white sheets.

"Do you want us to spend the night with you, sweetheart?" Seulgi asked from beside you, lying on her own arm.

"Yes, please," you nodded between heavy gasps.

"And you want me to comb your hair right now?"

"Fuck, yes please," you sighed.

"First let me help you clean Seungwanie and the sheets."

Seulgi stood up, and on shaky legs, went to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper and come back to clean up the cum-soaked mess you'd made. Then, she settled onto a pillow on the right side of the bed and held out her arms for you to curl up between them.

Mentally exhausted from all the day's shit and now physically exhausted from being drained by those two, you hugged Seulgi like a helpless koala and let her cuddle you until you fell asleep.

755 notes · View notes

elvhensinner · 30 days ago

Text

Hot Couture

~15k words, one-shot, smut, male reader, basically no plot

The door to the hotel room shot open and in walked one of the most beautiful Japanese girls you have ever laid your eyes on. She walked briskly across the room to where you were sitting, her eyes locked on yours, hips swaying like a model with each step.

“Welcome back beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Momo sighed, tossing her bag to the side and wasting no time in straddling your lap, “miss me?”

“All day,” you replied. Your hands quickly found their way to Momo’s body, like two opposing magnets, like a moth to a flame, it just felt as easy as breathing. “I was looking at some videos, you looked great.”

“You should have just come,” Momo voiced, tinged with that adorable little whine, accompanied quietly with a slight pout on her lips and a focused expression as her fingers worked on unbuttoning your shirt – she could make you melt in her hands. “You could have seen me in person instead of through a screen.”

“I told you I already had plans,” you sighed as you lifted your back off the chair and helped her out. “And I couldn’t bail just like that.”

“Why not?” Momo grunted, smiling proudly once she eventually managed to yank your shirt off. “It’s just dinner, surely I’m worth more than that, no?”

“It wasn’t just dinner. And how exactly do you imagine that conversation would go?” you chuckled, kneading your fingers into her ass through her shorts. “How do I even explain this? ‘Oh, last night I hooked up with a girl, she’s actually famous and she invited me to attend her concert tonight, I have to cancel, sorry, fuck your meeting!’”

“Sounds reasonable enough to me,” Momo purred, sliding a finger down your chest. She leaned in and kissed your neck softly a couple of times, her warm breath brushing smoothly against your skin. “That’s exactly what happened anyway.”

“They’d never believe it. I still don’t entirely know if I believe this yet,” you murmured as your hands mustered up the audacity to slide down the back of Momo’s shorts and into her panties.

“Oh you better believe it,” Momo’s breath grazed your skin softly as she filled the room with the sound of her wet kisses on your skin. “The night’s only just starting, and I have all of tomorrow to recover this time.”

“Your friends?”

“They stopped for food, we have enough time,” Momo replied casually, before sucking hard against your neck. “I can already feel how… ready… you are, it would be a shame to waste more time, don’t you think?”

“I’ve been ready ever since last night,” you moaned softly as Momo’s fingers made their way to your lap. “Seriously, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“And why would you?” Momo whispered, finally leaving your neck with a temporary tattoo of her lips before leaning back, slipping off her top and bra in a singular, swift movement.

There they were – so fucking captivating, alluring, absolutely entrancing, staring right back at you. You could never take your eyes off her tits, something you realized very soon after you met Momo. They were so delightful. Heavy and perky, accentuated further by Momo’s thin waist and framed pleasantly by her adorably-mischievous smile that you paid absolutely no attention to – no, you were too fixated on just one, rather two, things about her right now.

“Where the fuck have you been my whole life,” you moaned as blood rushed to your cock.

“What matters is that I’m here now,” Momo smirked, pinching her nipples gently and tilting her head back, softening her features.

“Then let’s stop wasting time,” you replied, giving her ass a hard spank. “Lead the way sweetheart.”

“Come on then,” Momo matched your energy as she hopped off your lap and dropped to her knees next to you. She propped herself up with her elbows on the couch next to you and turned to face you - ass up, back arched. “Don’t leave a girl waiting.”

“Never,” you moaned, nearly drooling at the sight of Momo lowering her shorts down to her knees and arching her back for you. “Especially not if that girl is you.”

In just a fraction of a second, you removed the rest of your clothes and found yourself on your knees behind Momo with nothing but a tiny pair of purple panties covering her fit body. You gave yourself a couple of quick strokes, taking a moment to make the most of the view, before bringing your hand down hard onto Momo’s ass, squeezing deep before yanking down her panties.

“Fuck,” you moaned at the view. Your heart rate skyrocketed as Momo’s pussy glistened before you – she was calling to you. Pressure was building up between your legs as your cock began leaking just at the thought of taking her. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me, now.” she purred, looking back at you over her shoulder. “Give it to me hard, make me scream again.”

“You’ll me screaming alright,” you mumbled as you fumbled with your tip around her pussy, “but not yet.”

Before slipping it in, to Momo’s audible frustration, you pulled your tip away. Instead, because you honestly couldn’t control yourself, you gently spread her cheeks and leaned forward, pressing your tongue firmly against her pussy. She’d have to wait just a bit, because you needed a taste.

Momo was upset, you knew it. You may have only met her a day ago, but if there was one thing you knew about her it was that she loved getting dicked and hated waiting. Really, more than anything, nothing made her feel better – except maybe a fresh load in her mouth, that was a close second. Nonetheless, Momo played along, letting you enjoy that body she worked so hard to build.

“You like eating my pussy, don’t you?” Momo moaned softly, grinding her hips in small circles as you ate her out. “Oh baby, I can feel your tongue inside me.”

In an act of pure desperation and lust, you shoved your face as far forward as it could go, closing your eyes as Momo’s ass cheeks pressed into your face. You sucked, licked, and lapped up as much of her as physically possible, like a starving animal finally getting fed. Once you felt your lungs begging for air, after getting her nice and wet, you pulled back and took a deep gasp.

It wasn’t easy, you felt like you were physically and mentally fighting your own body as you tried to pull back. It just made no sense, you had two equal parts begging you to keep your mouth glued between her cheeks while the other half wanted nothing more than to shove your cock into Momo’s soft pussy.

She was drenched at this point, beads sliding down her inner thighs. You rubbed her pussy, slipping a finger in for just a moment to feel how wet she was inside, coating your palm in her wetness as she flowed down your hand. You used her slick to coat your shaft before sliding forward and pressing your tip against her pussy.

“Come on, fuck me,” Momo whined, dropping her face into the seat cushion and spreading her cheeks for you. Her patience was wearing thin by now. She spat on her palm and reached back between her legs, grabbing your shaft and stroking it slowly. That clawing motion she made against your tip was unreal, she had full control of you right now.

The teasing didn’t last long, only a few more seconds of toying with her was all you managed before you just had to slip it in, really, it was like you had no other option, no more power. She felt good, amazing even. Momo’s pussy beautifully hugged your cock, squeezing it tight, clamping down hard. You eased yourself all the way in, nearly tearing your lower lip open as you bit into it subconsciously. Fuck, this felt nice.

“Oh you’re so big,” Momo cooed, letting go of her ass and gripping the cushions until her knuckles turned white. “You make me feel so full.”

“Momo you feel so good,” you grunted, giving her ass another rough slap as you took grip of her body.

The view was perfect, you were completely enthralled by your cock disappearing inside Momo’s pussy. The way her cute ass would bounce, the way her pussy gripped your cock, almost as if it was begging for you to stay inside her body, it was divine.

With just a few rhythmic pumps into Momo’s pussy you quickly realized how impossible it was to hold back. Adjusting yourself forward, sense of control rapidly disappearing, you began thrusting harder. Each one sending shockwaves through her body. Soon, you found yourself intoxicated with the view yet again – your cock plunging into Momo from behind, her perfectly sculpted body accepting it.

“I want more,” she gasped, “I need more.”

The next couple of minutes went by in a blur. It felt amazing. For all you know, it wasn’t even minutes, it could have been seconds or hours, it was just pure euphoria. What you realized though was that no matter how hard you pumped, Momo could take it. Your brain was falling in love with this girl, the harder you went the more she got into it, this was all you wanted – she was all you wanted. Your entire purpose in this world became fucking Momo with every ounce of strength in your body.

So you did just that, and she still took it. With sweat dripping down your body, lactic acid burning your muscles from within, you pushed and pushed well past the physical limitations of your body. In this moment, you could do anything, and that anything was Momo. She was everything. She was yours – yours to fuck.

“That’s right!” Momo cried out. “Fuck me baby, til I can’t walk! Fuck, please!”

A miracle was the only thing stopping you from unloading inside her right now. The delight of riding your orgasm to the absolute edge was shooting pleasure up your spine at a rate you simply, physically could not handle. You could feel your body beginning to go numb as all sensation became hyper-focused in one spot. You had no idea how long you had been plowing Momo anymore – nothing really made sense anymore truthfully. The harder you tried to understand the world around you, the less anything mattered.

If this wasn’t enough for Momo, you’d have to make it up to her later, because that was it. You had hit your breaking point – your body was done. In a sudden rush, a heavy wave of pure ecstasy filled your body as you launched your first gush of white as deep into Momo’s pussy as possible. Each following pump felt better and better until slowly, eventually, you felt yourself regaining your senses.

And as your brain began making sense of the fog, the unbelievably addicting feeling of euphoria soaring through your cock was becoming overwhelming. Momo’s warm body, the perfect blanket for your shaft, slowly massaged as you eased yourself back and forth a few final times before falling forward into Momo’s body, embedding your cock deep inside her pussy.

As you felt your cock eventually empty itself, you became acutely aware of how deep into Momo’s cheeks your fingers were pressing. You let go of her, giving her ass another hard slap, earning you a muffled, low energy shriek from Momo as she pressed her face into the cushions. She looked as spent as you right now with her entire body heaving up and down and a slight tremble in her legs.

Gingerly, you stood up, leaving your cum leaking out of Momo’s body, and took a seat on the couch next to her. She turned to look up at you, face flushed with pressure, a small bit of a sweat forcing her cute bangs to stick to her forehead. You brushed her hair out of her face as she smiled at you.

“I can feel your cum dripping out of me,” Momo giggled, scooting over a bit closer to you. “So warm.”

“Sorry, couldn’t hold back.”

“That’s a dumb apology,” she lifted herself up slightly and moved over your lap.

“Momo!” you cried out, body jolting as she took your cock into her mouth. “Please, it’s too…”

“Sensitive?” Momo smiled as she let your cock slip from her mouth. “I love watching you squirm,” she added before sliding her tongue along your shaft.

Initially, you found yourself pulling back again, wincing as sensation shot up your spine, but she was gentle - it began feeling good, really good, like a massage for your cock.

“Round two? How long do you need?” Momo asked excitedly, her tongue finding your tip and prodding it with utmost care. “I think we still have time.”

“You sure? I really don’t want your friend to walk in on this,” you asked, gently stroking Momo’s hair as she played with your cock. “What was her name? Sana? She didn’t seem too fond of me last night.”

“Oh look at you, learning our names,” Momo chuckled, giving your balls a final kiss before getting up and sitting next to you. “Don’t worry about her, she was just jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of you,” Momo answered, reaching between her legs and spreading the mess you left around her pussy. “It’s not very often one of us finds someone fuckable who isn’t a starry-eyed fan.”

“Fuckable… I’ll take it.”

“Shut up,” Momo rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, fans can be fun too, but there’s something nice about a person who isn’t really aware of who we are.”

“I must admit,” you glanced down at her chest. “I feel like I’ve been missing out.”

“That’s fine,” Momo smirked, grabbing your hand and placing it on her tits, “plenty of time to catch up.”

“Hey, I’ve actually already been working on it,” you chuckled. “Momo, Sana, Mina, you’re all Japanese, you sing and dance.”

“Wow great job, you really did a deep search. A for effort!” Momo chuckled. “I know you didn’t do much more than Google our names if you’re scared of Sana.”

“Huh?”

“That girl is sunshine and rainbows,” Momo laughed before suddenly the door clicked and her smile disappeared. “Oh shit–”

Almost as if on cue, the door swung open, and sure enough in the doorway stood the girl of the conversation.

“Oh my God,” Sana stormed into the room, slamming the door behind her as she threw her bag onto the dresser. “I see why you weren’t checking your phone.”

“You’re back early,” Momo commented casually, crossing her legs and arms in an attempt to maintain some dignity.

“Yeah, and you’d know that if you weren’t too busy getting fucked,” Sana snapped. “One request. All I asked is that you don’t use your stupid toy in front of me.”

“It’s not my fault you changed your plans,” Momo shook her head, a smile creeping up on her face. “Sana, don’t be so upset, if you want you can use him too.”

“Um excuse me–” you began.

“Shut up,” both of the girls snapped in unison.

Sana suddenly began eyeing you up and down – never in your life have you felt so judged. The most embarrassing part was how quickly your cock came alive as Sana stared at you, and your hands definitely weren’t doing a great job of concealing yourself. It was almost comical how quickly the tone in the room shifted. Sana went from ready to murder to something much more akin to curiosity. Instead of glaring at you, she seemed to be admiring, and for some reason you were becoming incredibly shy in front of her.

“Hmm,” Sana hummed softly, taking off her jacket and tossing it aside, leaving her in nothing but a crop top and skirt. “Who said that’s what I want?”

“I think he likes you,” Momo teased, grabbing your wrists and uncovering your cock. “He’s probably bored of fucking me by now.”

“N-No, I… I’m…”

“Look at that, he can’t even speak anymore,” Momo giggled as she took hold of your shaft, teasingly stroking it. “Come on Sana, I know you want this, it could be yours.” Momo bent down over your lap, facing Sana, and slid her tongue up your shaft. You found yourself shutting your eyes tight as Momo began swirling her tongue around your tip. This girl already knew how to make you click, and it only took one night. “I know he wants you, too, I can taste it.”

Sana, still wearing that sharp – almost aggressive – expression, stepped forward until she was right in front of you. She held eye contact, not even glancing at your cock as Momo, who sat back up, stroked it. No, she was fully focused on staring into your eyes, which felt as if she was staring directly into your soul. Even as she straddled you, just like Momo did earlier, pressing her body against your cock, she still kept her eyes glued to yours – and damn her eyes were stunning.

“Is it true?” Sana whispered, placing her hands on your shoulders. “Do you want me?”

Instead of embarrassing yourself with the inability to form words, you chose to nod – perhaps a bit too enthusiastically – Sana definitely noticed.

The tiniest of smiles teased her lips before she spoke again. “And what makes you think I want you?” she asked, her voice almost too innocent for the situation.

“Well, you’re sitting on my cock right now,” you spoke clearly as you finally found your voice.

“And yet,” she let go of your shoulders and leaned away, “you haven’t even put your hands on me.”

“I…” you hated your brain right now as you lost your voice just as quickly as you found it. Usually you’d be quick with it, but Sana had you turned to mush, it felt like you were lost in a field of haze. “Because I…”

“Why are you so nervous?” Sana whispered, moving her face closer to yours. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Do you not like me?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“So you like me?”

“I just met you.”

She smirked, bringing her hands back to your shoulders.

“What do you like most?” Sana whispered the question, annoyingly confident, as she began slowly moving her hips back and forth, as slowly as physically possible. “Don’t be shy, tell me.”

The way she pressed her body a bit harder against your cock, or perhaps because of how she stuck her chest up towards your face just a bit more, you knew she wanted you to touch her. That being said, your answer must have caught her off guard – at least a bit.

“You have a sweet smile.”

She kept a straight face, still staring deep into your pupils.

“I’m not smiling.”

“Behind this act you’re trying to put on,” you continued. “I can see why you’re so popular now, pictures don’t do your beauty justice.”

Thankfully, she was at least slightly flustered by your choice of words, you were sure of it. The way she blinked faster and the way her cheeks betrayed her facade by staining a light pink, she couldn’t hide how she felt. She even stopped grinding against you, the only part of her that remained composed was her gaze. That ethereal confidence she was sporting just seconds ago was fluttering away as she became shy herself, and your own confidence began returning.

“That’s very kind of you…” Sana muttered, her sharp gaze slowly fading, “...but you–”

“I can see it in your eyes,” you cut her off. “Modern-day Aphrodite, I get it now, I get why you can make stadiums scream, I get why there are hours and hours of you all over YouTube, every angle possible, every moment captured. Fans wouldn’t dare to miss even a breath.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s not that I want to fuck you, really, not that simple,” you cut her off. “I want to make love to you, all night. I want to hear that beautiful voice scream and moan, I want you gasping for more, I want you begging for more, and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

“You–”

“And I won’t stop until you can’t take it anymore. I don’t care if you can or can’t walk tomorrow, I don’t care if you spend the whole day in bed,” you continued. “I want to make this the best night of your life, one you’ll think about forever, one you’ll crave for the rest of your life, a feeling you’ll be chasing. I’ll do it all, whatever you need for however long you want.”

Did she know she was biting her lip?

“A girl like you deserves–”

“What the fuck,” it was Momo’s turn to interject, “at this point even I want to fuck her.”

Ignoring the smile that crept up on your lips, you continued staring Sana in the eyes. “Maybe you don’t want me, that’s your choice to make,” you whispered softly, now that the dynamic had shifted into your favor, “but you’re still sitting on my lap.”

Sana opened her mouth for a moment and paused, as if she couldn’t find the words, before she gently closed her mouth again, cheeks bright red. At this point, words didn’t really need to be shared – you both knew what the other wanted.

“What do you say?” you whispered, placing your hands up the sides of her thighs. “Are you going to let me make your night?”

Each inch of Sana’s body felt amazing as you began to slowly slide up her leg. You pressed with modest trepidation, very intentionally keeping your hands moving as slowly as you could up her side. She felt so tender, perfect in your hands, the ideal body. Your hands made their way leisurely towards her hips where they found refuge, the thought of holding Sana’s body down against your cock while the thought of fucking her began engulfing your mind, and at this point it was the only thing on your mind.

“Then what are you–” the words hadn’t even escaped her lips before she was picked up and turned around, her back dropped onto the couch where you were sitting just a second ago. “Waiting for…” she gasped out the rest of her thought, eyes wide in pure lust and desire for you.

“Ooooooooh,” Momo cheered, giggling as she watched the show, sliding up next to Sana on the couch and helping her friend take off her top. “Finally.”

And for the first time, Sana’s eyes moved to your cock properly. You began smiling as you saw her lick her lips, probably without even realizing it. She was completely engrossed in the sight of your cock, you could probably make her beg right now if you really wanted to – yet, you had no desire to do such a thing. You let her enjoy the view as much as you were enjoying the view of Momo unclasping her bra, freeing Sana’s tits.

Maybe it was because you wanted her just as badly as she wanted you. She was, after all, truly one of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen in your life. It was an odd type of lust, the fibers in your brain were being torn apart; on one hand you wanted to fuck her softly for the rest of the night, and on the other hand you wanted nothing more than to fill her up in under a minute.

The only thing that was certain was that you wanted – no, needed – to fuck this girl right now. Laying there, cheeks rosy pink, Sana looked up at you again. The sheer desire in her eyes, the vulnerability of her slightly parted lips, each breath deep, legs bent at the knees waiting for your next move. You reached forward and flipped her skirt up, the fabric bundling up around her slim waist.

She was wearing light pink panties, stained completely dark in the crotch at this point. The scene before you had your cock twitching – relief was coming soon, you told yourself. First, on pure instinctual lust, you dropped to your knees and pressed your face forward, just like you did with Momo.

Her taste, her scent, her everything was unbelievably intoxicating. Just the thought of having your face between the legs of this goddess, the type of girls men would go to war for, was enough to make you blow. You couldn’t take it any longer, with one swift pull you exposed Sana’s pussy.

A faint gasp escaped her lips before immediately transforming into a soft moan as you pressed your lips against her pussy, no fabric in the way this time. You pushed your tongue into her entrance as deep as it could go, succumbing to her taste, engulfing as much of her pussy as you physically could in your mouth.

She began moaning hard, the sign that you couldn’t stop. In fact, it was probably a crime to stop right now with the way she was gasping with each flick of your tongue. She was so turned on that anything you did was sending her to the moon, the smallest little bits of pressure against her soft pussy was all it took. You’ve never had it so easy before and you were addicted.

And fuck she tasted good. The thought of fucking her was temporarily erased by the mind-numbing experience of pressing your tongue against her clit. You were pretty sure it felt better for you than it did for her at this point, somehow, not that it made any sense. Yet, you were so invested into eating out Sana��s pussy that you barely noticed each time her leg would jerk and hit the side of your face, and soon even the sounds of her moans were fading away.

Your world was just Sana’s pussy. Not even your throbbing cock was enough to distract you from it, and at this point you had honestly forgotten about the other naked Japanese girl in the room. Right now was Sana’s turn, her pussy was all you had to worry about. Her pussy was all that you would worry about.

After showing her clit some love, just for a moment, you pressed your mouth against her entrance again, teasing around it with your tongue as your lips gently massaged her pussy. You would go back and kiss her clit from time to time, but your focus was on pressing your tongue flat against her skin and pushing down from side to side. At this point you weren’t entirely sure if it was your own saliva or Sana’s pussy that was filling your mouth, but it was becoming impossible to swallow it all.

Sana had to be the wettest woman on the planet right now, surely. Her pussy became a fountain at this point, filling up your mouth as you desperately tried to lap it all up, leaking all over your chin. As if there was any doubt anymore, the ultimate confirmation came alongside a shrill shriek as Sana’s pussy squirted deep into your mouth.

As she squirted in your face, you began moving your head side to side, urging her to let the pleasure flow through her body. You had it down to a science at this point, quickly adjusting as you noticed what worked for her – it helped that she was so vocal. You worked her pussy until your upper body was soaked, and then you pressed your lips down to her body again, revelling in her taste some more.

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of Sana’s mess, you backed up, gasping for air. Sana, face completely flushed, stared at you with her chest heaving up and down. You lunged forward, palming one of her tits while shoving your mouth against her lips. With your other hand, you fumbled around with your cock between her legs, trying to find her entrance. It was so incredibly wet, you weren’t sure if it was possible.

Once you finally felt your tip against her, you brought both of your hands up to her face, holding her warmly with the kiss and pushing your hips forward. She gasped into your mouth hard before launching her head back. You leaned back as well, watching with jubilant appetency as inch by inch your cock disappeared into Sana’s pussy.

She was the perfect fit, warm and wet, squeezing your shaft gloriously. You were completely mesmerized by Sana’s body. With pure pleasure, you watched your cock enter her pussy over and over and over, her soft tits bouncing up and down in small circles with each slow, methodical thrust. You started slow, giving her all the time she needed to adjust to your cock, easing it in all the way before pulling back. It felt amazing. Part of you felt like cumming already, but you couldn’t just yet, not after just three pumps – imagine her disappointment.

Your hands made their way to her hips, holding her down, slightly pulling her back onto your cock each time you pumped into her pussy, speeding up drastically now. You squeezed down, and the added roughness was working as you felt her pussy tighten around your cock. She spread her legs wider, shutting her eyes tight with her mouth open.

Momo, clearly interested in getting involved, leaned over and began kissing Sana. Seeing their tits squishing against each other nearly launched you over the edge, but you slowed down just enough to hold yourself back. In fact, you found yourself stopping entirely, knowing just one more thrust would have you cumming buckets inside Sana’s pussy, and you simply watched as the two girls made out.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a wave of jealousy hit you. Sana almost looked like she was more into the kiss with Momo than she was with you – and that absolutely couldn’t be the case, you wouldn’t let it. You grabbed her legs and yanked her off the couch into your arms, ignoring her squeal as you turned her around and bent her over the couch.

“What the fuck,” Sana gasped before taking a drawn-out inhale as you pushed your cock into her again, pressing your hand against her lower back.

That long, satisfied breath she took was to die for, her soft and sultry voice was making your cock throb. That alone nearly sent you over the edge yet again as you used all of your power to hold back.

Momo got off the couch with a smirk and walked around your body, picking up on what just happened immediately. She wrapped her arms tenderly around you, leaning right up against your ear as you began pumping Sana from behind.

“Don’t be upset babe,” she whispered, her breath giving you the energy to fuck Sana even faster. “She’s still yours to fuck, all yours, no one else can take her from you and your big cock.”

Momo’s whispers almost sent you into a frenzy, and again you had to slow down to enjoy the moment some more.

“And when I say she’s all yours, I really mean all,” Momo whispered, giving your earlobe a small nibble before letting go of you and sitting on the couch next to Sana.

Momo leaned over, spreading Sana’s cheeks wide for you while staring up at you, both of you making eye contact as Sana cried out in pleasure. Then, slowly, Momo bent over, still staring right at you, and gently rubbed her tongue against Sana’s asshole, toying with it.

“Momo!” Sana gasped as her pussy gushed out onto your cock again.

“What do you say?” Momo teased, slowly rubbing a finger against Sana’s asshole as you plowed her pussy. “I think she wants it.”

“Fuck…” you moaned, incapable of forming a sentence, before slowly pulling your cock out.

“That’s right,” Momo smiled. “You should take what you want.”

This was actually happening – you were about to fuck Sana in the ass. Before that, however, you took Momo’s advice and grabbed the back of her head, guiding her to your shaft. You pushed yourself down Momo’s throat as far as you could go. The desire to shove your cock down Momo’s mouth just came out of nowhere, and you didn’t bother thinking before acting.

“Not exactly what I meant,” Momo gasped, coughing slightly as you let go of her face before smiling up at you.

“Not my fault, you just look so damn good with my cock in your mouth,” you teased, giving her a small pat on the cheek.

“Come on,” Sana moaned quietly as she rubbed her pussy, shaking her ass towards you. She was still dripping all over her inner thighs.

“Sana,” you mumbled, rubbing your tip against her asshole. “Can I?”

“Just do it, stop asking,” Sana moaned in response, looking back over her shoulder at you and winking.

This girl would be the death of you – how the fuck did you end up here? Momo, just as excited for what was about to happen as you, leaned over Sana’s body and let her saliva spill from her lips before using her fingers to coat Sana’s asshole.

“She’s playing it up,” Momo giggled, teasing a finger into Sana’s asshole. “You should see what I’ve put in here.”

“Momo!” Sana groaned, hitting her on the arm.

“Don’t be shy now,” Momo replied with a mischievous little smirk. “After the mess you’ve already made everywhere, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about anymore.”

“Give her a break,” you chuckled as you lined yourself up with Sana’s asshole.

“Not like you’re going to,” Momo replied as she positioned herself on the couch in front of Sana and spread her legs.

With Sana preoccupied with Momo’s pussy, you took the opportunity to push your cock in. It definitely wasn’t her first time. Still, you went slowly as her asshole was incredibly tight nonetheless, but damn did it feel good. It was a whole different sensation, tight and warm, not as wet, but so tight.

“Fuck,” you moaned softly, adjusting your posture to give better leverage. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Not too hard,” Sana’s muffled voice cried out softly.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” you grunted, pushing your cock halfway into her body.

Her toned back was fully flexed before you, sweat filled each sexy little ridge her muscles made. You eased yourself into a gentle rhythm before fixing your gaze on Momo. The girl had her eyes closed, hand on the back of Sana’s head, and the other hand cupping a breast. The view before you was actually to die for.

For Sana’s sake, you only pushed your cock halfway into her ass with each thrust as you could see her straining. It still felt great, you had nothing to complain about, and you were starting to feel yourself getting closer.

Alternating between slow and fast was how you kept yourself going long enough to see Momo cum against Sana’s face. You paused for a moment, letting Sana focus fully on Momo’s pussy. It was a glorious view, Momo’s tits up towards the roof as she arched her back while Sana fully committed to eating her pussy.

Then, as Momo relaxed, you went back to the task at hand and started slamming into Sana’s ass again. This time, she was tighter, and you could tell she was struggling a lot more. You only got a few more thrusts in before Sana gasped out and reached a hand back against your thigh.

“Alright enough!” Sana screamed out, pushing you away, moaning as you pulled your cock out of her ass. “Please, I need a break.”

“First time I’ve ever seen you tap out,” Momo teased as she got off the couch and grabbed Sana’s hand. “Was that too much?”

“No,” Sana whined as she rubbed her asshole. “I just haven’t done that in a while.”

“Come here, let me make it all better,” Momo giggled, guiding Sana to the bed where she lay her down with her head towards the base. Momo climbed onto the bed between Sana’s legs before motioning for you to come over. “We haven’t done this in a while either.”

“That’s because you never share your toys,” Sana pouted as she craned her neck upwards towards you and opened her mouth.

“Don’t stand there like an idiot, you know what she wants,” Momo laughed before disappearing between Sana’s legs.

In this position, with Sana’s adorable eyes looking up at you, just slightly squinted as Momo worked her pussy, you felt a rush of warmth shoot up your body. The moment you stepped up to the bed, Sana had already started licking your cock, pressing her tongue against the base of your shaft where it met your balls.

“Fuck that’s nice,” you moaned, stroking yourself.

“Come on,” Sana looked up at you and let out the most adorable little giggle you’ve ever heard. “Shove it down my neck.”

Who were you to deny that request? While trying to hide how excited you were, you slowly pressed down on your cock and slipped it between Sana’s lips, entering her warm mouth. Just like when you tried her asshole, her mouth was also an entirely new experience. It was nice and wet, and her tongue was working magic against your cock.

Then there was the sound. The gentle gagging, a mix of slurping and moaning, it all made for the most mind-numbing experience ever. You barely moved your hips, you just let Sana do the work, and she knew how to use her mouth. She strained her neck as far back as she could to get your cock as deep as possible.

For the next couple of minutes, the three of you were in your own little worlds. Momo, happy as ever, was enjoying Sana’s pussy to her heart’s content, while you got to enjoy Sana’s mouth, and Sana herself was having the best time of all as her whole body was vibrating and trembling in pleasure.

Then, over all the noise Sana was making against your cock, there was a knock on the door. Your heart skipped a beat as you paused for a moment, worried you were about to get caught. It didn’t last long, though, as Momo took care of your concern.

“I got it,” Momo lifted her head up from between Sana’s legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand and quickly wrapping a towel around her body. “It’s probably Mina, she doesn’t have a key.”

“Should I stop?” you asked as you gave Sana another chance to breathe, stroking your cock gently above her face.

“Does it look like she wants you to stop?” Momo giggled before giving you a slap on the ass and walking over to the door.

In front of you, Sana was extending her neck to reach up and lick your balls, with her fingers replacing Momo’s face between her legs.

“Just a bit more,” Sana moaned, rubbing her pussy frantically. “I’m really close, please, fill my throat just a bit longer.”

What a fucking request. With that, you pushed your cock downwards slightly and slipped it back into Sana’s mouth, grazing your balls against her face as you pushed all the way into her throat. Sure enough, through all the cock you had in her mouth, she screamed out loudly into the hotel room. She clamped her legs down on her hand and started shaking and trembling all around the bed with your cock still down her throat.

While watching her finger herself desperately, you bent forward and cupped her tits in your hands, playing with the soft skin between your hands while shoving your cock deeper down her neck. You could see the outline of your shaft pressing against her skin, threatening to go all the way down, to hit the back of her throat. Once she was done, you pulled out of her mouth slowly, leaving a mess of Sana’s saliva all over your cock.

“Thank you,” Sana gasped, staring up at you for a moment trying to catch her breath before sitting up. “Your turn.”

“That’s–”

Sana hushed you before laying down flat on her stomach and looking over her shoulder at you. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up,” she said casually while shaking her ass at you. “I’m all yours.”

“You’re fucking insatiable,” you mumbled as you climbed on the bed at pressed your cock between her ass cheeks, sliding it up and down slowly.

“Fuck me, as much as you can,” Sana giggled, spreading her cheeks with both hands to give you more room between them.

With her holes staring beautifully right into your eyes, you grabbed your cock and slipped it into her soft pussy once more, thrusting into her slowly.

“Oh fuck that’s right, that’s good – oh yes that’s perfect,” Sana purred softly. “Grab my neck.”

For the first time, you hesitated at Sana’s request. She noticed the pause, glaring back at you over her shoulder as you fucked her steadily, her ass jiggling with each thrust. She didn’t have to say anything, the look was all you needed for you to wrap your fingers around her neck.

As soon as you squeezed, you felt her pussy tighten. It was fucking magical. You’ve never felt better, pure ecstasy, a high like no other. Her pussy was just perfect, and you found yourself pressing your body down against hers, pushing your cock in deeper than ever with each thrust. Then, you leaned closer to her ear.

“You just love it when you can’t breathe, don’t you?” you whispered into Sana’s ears as you pressed your fingers harder against her neck. “The harder I squeeze, the tighter you get.”

“Then hurry up and fucking use me,” Sana rasped, completely out of breath still. “However you want, for as long as you want, make my world go numb.”

“You mean–”

“Anything, fill my little asshole up if you want, I don’t care,” she moaned before dropping her face into a pillow. “But this time if you’re fucking to fuck my ass, go all the way in.”

“I love you,” you moaned spontaneously as you pulled your cock out and lined it up with her asshole.

“Yeah sure, now tell me that when you’re not about to fuck my asshole and maybe I’ll believe you,” Sana giggled. “Also this time, don’t stop. No matter how much I scream, fuck me until you cum.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want you to fuck my ass until you fill me up,” she repeated firmly before turning away from you and bracing her body. “Now stop asking questions and hurry up – go until you finish.”

“Really Sana, I might just love you,” you mumbled, and before she could reply you pushed your cock deep into her ass.

“Oh fuck!” Sana cried out as she pressed her face down into the bed, tensing up her body.

Unlike last time, you were thrusting your entire cock into her ass, and you had to admit it felt a lot better. Still as tight as ever, but more accepting, Sana’s ass was divine, a warm envelope that soothed and massaged every cell in your body. You didn’t bother easing in slowly at all, from the first thrust into Sana’s ass you were already making sure she was taking your entire length.

With your hips moving at full speed, you wrapped your fingers around Sana’s neck again, and for the last few moments of ecstasy, you went as hard as you could, giving it your all. That pure bliss, melting away all your worries, it was a feeling you could never get sick of, a feeling you’d dream about for years to come, and that feeling was how amazing Sana’s ass felt on your cock.

As quickly as it started, you felt the end approach. One thing was certain, you were going to follow Sana’s wish, and with a final – deep and hard – thrust, you felt your cock start unloading into Sana’s ass. Some jumble of words, or maybe just sounds, escaped your lips as your entire body went numb, the only sensation reaching your brain was the euphoria shooting through your cock as you held it steady, deep inside Sana’s asshole.

Sana, the angel she was, lay there and took it all, never once complaining, gently moving her hips up against your body, back and forth just slowly enough to massage your cum out. She waited patiently until you finished, until you pulled out and gave her the reprieve she so desperately needed. Even then, with her ass full of your cum, she didn’t care about how harsh that was, instead she simply lay there as relaxed as ever.

With all that was happening, you didn’t even notice that Mina, the third member, was sitting on the other bed watching everything intently. Momo, who sat next to her, slowly got up from the bed and lay down on top of Sana. Momo immediately shoved her face between Sana’s cheeks, her cum-addiction coming through in full force as she began sucking it right out of Sana’s asshole.

While they had their moment, you took the opportunity to get up and walk over to Mina. You walked up to her with all the bravado from the high Sana just gave you, but you immediately felt a bit awkward being completely naked, stared at by Mina. She looked so elegant and graceful even while sitting there, and she had you all embarrassed, so, you quickly grabbed Momo’s discarded towel and wrapped it around your waist before sitting down next to Mina.

“Hey,” you smiled at her warmly.

“H-Hey,” she stammered back, her eyes dropping down to your body for a moment before her cheeks blushed red. She turned away from you and took another sip from the wine bottle she had on the side table.

“Straight from the bottle, classy.”

“Y-Yeah,” she replied, nearly dropping the half-emptied bottle as she went to put it back. “Sometimes, a glass is just too much work.”

“I get that–”

“Oh!” she quickly reached for the bottle again. “I’m sorry, I forgot to offer.”

“Thank you,” you smiled once more, grabbing the bottle with one hand and her wrist with the under. It was adorable how much she was shaking, and it was extremely obvious she was nervous. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, after everything you just experienced, you were feeling bolder than ever. You moved a bit closer to Mina, the towel you had wrapped around your waist slipping off as you reached over her to put the bottle of wine back. “Oops,” you chuckled as Mina’s face burned red. “I guess there’s no reason to hide, you did just watch me and Sana.”

“Umm, yeah,” Mina stammered, her eyes repeatedly darting towards your crotch before she would try to look away.

“Tell me,” you leaned in closer to her and placed a hand around her body, resting it against her hip, “are you just as wild as your friends?”

Mina looked down at your hand, almost as if she was scared, before looking back up at you.

“N-No, definitely not,” she answered nervously. “I just like to watch.”

After letting go of her hip, you stood up from the bed and faced towards her. You tossed the towel to the side, leaving you standing there completely nude in front of her. Mina, no longer hiding it, stared right at your cock as you stroked yourself to life.

“You just like to watch?” you repeated. “I won’t lie, Mina, you are fucking gorgeous and I’d love nothing more than to have a good time with you.”

“Th-Thanks,” Mina stuttered, trying to avoid eye contact again.

“Hey,” you dropped down to your knees in front of her. “No pressure of course, but I can tell you have that side of you that wants to let loose. You’d be surprised about what could happen – it’s up to you.”

“How?” Mina looked back into your eyes. “I don’t even know what to do, I’m not as experienced as them…”

“That’s nothing to worry about,” you stood back up and stepped closer to her. Gently, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your cock. “Just get comfortable, let things flow naturally.”

Mina hesitated for a moment before nodding and gripping your cock. She stroked slowly, it was obvious she was still nervous, but you were patient with her.

“You’re doing great,” you moaned softly as Mina began stroking a bit faster. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

“Really?” she looked up at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, really,” you smiled back before giving the shoulder of her shirt a little tug. “Wanna get more comfortable?”

Mina let go of your cock and gave you a nod before reaching over for the wine and taking another swig. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, then put the bottle back and slipped her shirt off. As she tossed it to the side, you climbed onto the bed with her and unbuckled her bra for her, exposing her cute tits.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you gushed softly as Mina covered her chest up with her hands. “Don’t be shy, you’re so fucking hot and you should own it.”

Mina blushed hard again, flashing you a small smile before slowly moving her hands away and letting you admire her tits freely.

“These, too?” you suggested, giving her shorts a small tug.

“Umm,” Mina whispered back shyly, avoiding your gaze again.

“Don’t stress it,” you smiled at her before climbing onto the bed and laying next to her. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, we can go slow,” you added, leaning in and kissing her neck, “just tell me what you like and what you don’t.”

“I’d like that,” she whispered as you planted kisses all along her collarbone while softly pressing your palms against her tits. “This is nice.”

“Good,” you breathed against her skin, exploring her body with your hand. You slid your fingers down her tummy, slipping them just slightly into her waistband before pausing. “This?”

She bit her lip softly before nodding at you, her eyes wide and nervous.

With her permission, you eased your hand into her shorts, carefully feeling around for her folds. You were gentle and careful, making delicate little circles against her pussy as you sucked on one of her tits. You let the sound of her moans guide you.

“Mina,” you whispered quietly. “Can I go down on you?”

Her body froze briefly at the suggestion before she answered. “I… I’d prefer if you didn’t… is that fine…?”

“Of course–”

“But you can put it in,” she added softly.

“Fingers?”

“No, not fingers.”

Lifting your body up to see her properly, you looked down at her and confirmed. “You want me to… you sure? It’s completely up to you.”

She nodded, her expression screaming ‘please be gentle’.

“Then, these will–”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Mina reached down and took off her shorts. She still seemed a bit embarrassed to be nude in front of you, so you did her the courtesy of not looking – you even grabbed the blanket and pulled it over your bodies.

“You ready?” you whispered as you moved between her legs.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, spreading her legs wide for you.

Feeling around under the blankets, you found her pussy with your cock, and slowly, inch by inch, you pressed forward until you entered about halfway into Mina’s soft pussy.

She was incredibly tight, hugging your shaft wonderfully. It took a lot of restraint to hold yourself back, to fight the urge to just slam your cock as hard into her little pussy as you could, but you could see she was struggling to warm up to you.

“How’s that?” you asked, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

“Tight,” she moaned, clenching her jaw. “Keep going.”

So you eased in a bit deeper before pausing again. You gave her a moment before you pulled back, then pushed forward again, moving your hips in a slow and steady rhythm. Even going this slowly and carefully, Mina’s pussy felt fucking amazing.

“Hold on,” you paused and reached above Mina’s head. You grabbed one of the pillows and placed it under her hips. “Better?”

“A bit,” she nodded as her body relaxed and her breathing steadied.

“Good,” you leaned forward and kissed her before you began moving your hips again.

It was so painfully difficult to hold back, but you wanted her to feel good. Still, the moment was phenomenal. Mina was more beautiful than ever, her expression screaming to you every detail of every inch she took. Her face could tell you a story as it contorted with each thrust.

This went on for a bit more before Mina began moaning gently. Even her moans were graceful and calm, even as her chest began heaving up and down with deep breaths, her voice was soft and majestic. You pumped a bit faster, still being careful not to go too deep, but being more daring with each thrust, reading her expression the whole time.

Your hands began exploring around her body, from her tits to her face to her hips and her thighs, you touched and grabbed anything you could, kissing anything your mouth could reach. You engulfed as much of her warmth as you could, straining yourself as you kept your body moving steadily, building up a sweat against Mina’s soft skin.

Then, you felt Mina tense up and her pussy burned hot, hotter than ever before. Her gentle moans became just a touch more aggressive as she let loose, as her pussy quivered and vibrated, taking your cock even deeper now.

As tenderly and lovingly, you fucked her for as long as she could ride out her orgasm, making sure to give her the best experience possible. At this point, you had your hands pressing against her hips as you looked down at her, watching in delight as she squirmed.

“Oh fuck,” Mina shrieked, the loudest noise to come out of her mouth all night.

Quickly, you pulled out and brought your hand to her pussy, pressing down on her clit. She writhed and twisted to your touch, arching her back hard. You rubbed her softly until she finally relaxed, until her breaths turned shallow and rapid. Then, you leaned in to give her one final gentle kiss on the lips before sitting up.

“How was that?” you smiled at her while rubbing her thigh.

“Really good,” Mina sighed before getting embarrassed and shutting her legs.

“Here,” you ignored her embarrassment and grabbed the bottle of wine, handing it to her.

She took a huge swig, using her other hand to cover herself up. “D-Did you finish?” she asked timidly while putting the bottle back.

“Don’t worry about that,” you handed her back her underwear and shorts while averting your gaze. “All that matters is that you had a good time.”

“But–”

“It happens sometimes, but it doesn’t mean anything about you at all,” you smiled at Mina who was now using her shorts to cover herself. “You had a good time, right?”

“I did.”

“Then I’m happy,” you leaned in a bit closer. “Can I kiss you?”

She sat up and met you halfway, tilting her head to the side and softly pressing her lips against yours.

After your lips parted gently, she smiled at you, her cheeks still tinted red – probably from the alcohol. “I’m going to freshen up real quick.”

“Sure, I’ll see you in a bit,” you responded warmly.

Mina got off the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, taking the bottle of wine with her. You watched in admiration, trying not to stare too much while also blatantly peeking at her cute butt. Truthfully, you wanted more, she felt incredible, but you weren’t going to push it.

“So,” Momo plopped down onto the bed next to you. “Hours and hours all over YouTube?”

“I told you I did some research.”

“Clearly,” she giggled, snuggling up into your arms. “Did your research lead you to think you’d end up in this situation?”

“Not exactly,” you smiled back, resting your hand on her ass. “Although what was it, the Hawaii vlog? I had a gut feeling that you and Sana definitely got up to some fun off camera. Or maybe it was because of that middle of the night VLive–”

“Wait a minute,” Momo muttered as she sat up and turned to face you, her eyebrows raised. “How much did you actually look into us?”

“Eh, the rabbit hole is deep, I barely scratched the surface.”

“I’m kinda impressed,” she dropped back down into your arms and wrapped hers around your chest. “I guess you are just another fan after all.”

“Does that change anything about tonight?”

“Maybe a little,” Momo giggled softly, “but why are you saying that as if the night’s over?”

“Uh, well, Sana’s literally passed out and Mina sounds like she’s filling up a bath.”

“And you have your hands on my ass,” Momo replied casually, “since we’re pointing out the obvious.”

“Well damn, you have a point,” you gave her a rough spank before rolling over so that she was below you. “So, tell me, what do you have in mind?”

“I couldn’t help overhear your conversation with Mina.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Momo echoed. “I appreciate how much you care about her feelings, but you should still get to finish.”

“It’s really not–”

“Shush,” Momo pressed two fingers against your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I… you…” you stammered under her gaze, losing control despite being above her.

“Alright then, very specific,” she giggled. “Let’s just go with the flow for a bit?” Momo suggested with a smirk, her voice dripping with warm, sexual urge as she rolled over so that she was on top of you now.

She sat up with her legs around your hips. “You’ve been working so hard tonight, I can see that,” she noted, sliding one of her fingers down your sweat slicked chest slowly before bringing it up into her mouth. She slowly pushed her finger until the second knuckle, her eyes smiling at you with her lips pursed, before slowly easing her finger back out, releasing with an exaggerated pop. “How about you let me do the work?”

“I can do that,” you moaned as Momo began rubbing her body against your cock gently. “I can definitely do that.”

“Good,” Momo smirked as she lifted herself up just slightly and began reaching between her legs to find your cock.

She fumbled around until your tip was lined up before leaning forward and placing both hands on your pecs. Then, while keeping the most provocative eye contact you have ever experienced, she slowly – excruciatingly slowly – lowered her body onto your cock.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, closing her eyes, drawing out the word until they stretched across your brain, lowering herself all the way down. “It really never gets old.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” you gasped as she began moving her hips back and forth slowly.

It was impossible to decide if you should be staring at her cute face as she softly scrunched up her features in pleasure, or if you should be admiring her massive tits hanging down in front of your face. They moved so methodically, swaying gently as Momo began riding your cock slowly, making sure you felt each and every inch go into her with every movement.

“You like that?” Momo cooed softly as she began speeding up just a bit. “You like fucking my pussy?”

She moved her hands up to your shoulders, leaning forward a bit more so that her tits were even closer to your face. At this point there was no other option, you were completely fixated by her tits. They were so perfect. Absolutely mesmerizing. You were in a trance, one you couldn’t snap out of even if you tried – You just had to reach up and grab them.

Despite being far from the first time you’ve had Momo’s tits in your hands, they somehow felt softer than ever. You squished into them, pressing your fingers deep, but that only lasted a few seconds before you were overwhelmed by the urge for more. You let go of her soft tits and hugged Momo, pulling her down onto you so that your face ended up nestled between her soft tits.

“Oh you really like them,” Momo gasped out breathily, moving her hips even faster as she rode your cock hard.

Momo wrapped her hands around your head, pushing you deeper into her chest as you opened your mouth and began desperately trying to fit as much of her soft tits into your mouth as you could. It was an impossible task, yet you still tried, smearing your saliva all over her chest until you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

With all that pressure building up in your cock, you knew you had to make the most of what energy you had left. So, you bent your legs, putting Momo at a better angle, and gripped her ass hard with both hands. Then you began, with every remaining ounce of effort that you could muster, shoving your hips up into Momo’s pussy as hard and fast as you could.

She moaned out loudly, a stream of profanities as apparently this slightly adjusted position was hitting all the right spots, and even through the muffling of Momo’s tits squishing your face you could hear her amorous clear as day. It was driving you mad, her moans and cries easily drowning out the sound of your skin slapping against hers.

Sudden carnal instincts had you giving Momo’s gorgeous ass a few more spanks as you felt yourself hitting the point of no return, yet again. With sweat building on your skin and Momo’s tits in your mouth, you gave the final push, making sure to go as deep as you could with each thrust, earning you the most luxurious shouts of pleasure from the girl riding your cock right now.

Just like that, you felt the first gush of cum launch up into Momo’s pussy. You opened your mouth wide, letting go of Momo’s tits, and cried out as you emptied your balls into the beautiful girl who had her massive tits hanging right there in front of your face.

“Fill me up baby,” Momo moaned out, looking down at you in the most passionately erotic way possible.

Other than the raw, unadulterated pleasure coursing through your cock right now, there was another feeling. One that caught you a bit off guard. This whole ordeal has been nothing deeper than a brief escape from reality, something that was supposed to disappear after this weekend, yet for some reason this girl had your heart pumping hard – not from exhaustion.

That same feeling from earlier with Sana as you lay on her back, it was consuming you. Were you now falling in love with Momo as well? Was that possible after just one weekend or was this just the hormones talking? You didn’t even know of their existence 48 hours ago, yet for some reason… No, now wasn’t the time to think about this, not with Momo riding your cock as you pumped her full with your cum.

Just as suddenly as those feelings filled your brain, they vanished – thanks to the grip Momo’s pussy had on your tip right now. She lifted herself up, turning slightly to the side, and picked herself up off your cock. A rush of warm cum spilled out of her lips and back onto your cock, glazing it thoroughly in white.

“Look at how much there is,” Momo swooned as she gripped your shaft and began playing with the mess. “You’d think you’d be out by now.”

Then, she got off you entirely and bent over your lap. Unlike before, she didn’t just give you a few gentle licks, she immediately engulfed your entire shaft.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned out as the warmth of Momo’s mouth soothed your sensitive cock.

Momo didn’t really care about how sensitive your cock was. All she cared about was how much cum there was on it. She swirled her tongue around, making a proper mess, before lifting her mouth up and holding it over your cock. With a devious little smile, she stared directly into your eyes as she opened her mouth and let a glob of white spill from her lips, back onto your shaft. Before you could comprehend what happened, she had lowered her mouth onto your cock again, licking up the whole mess.

It was nearly impossible to speak as Momo had your cock in her mouth. Even after all that happened, you were already hard again, and Momo could not be happier. At this point, she was just sucking your cock, there was no cum left to swallow.

“You keep cumming inside me instead of down my throat,” Momo whined, kissing your balls and inner thighs trying to find as much cum as she could. “Always making me do extra work, sucking it off your cock, out of Sana’s ass…”

“Sorry,” you chuckled, grabbing the back of Momo’s head and guiding her around your cock.

“It’s fine, still worth it.”

“Mina’s been in there for a while,” you grunted as Momo gave your tip a few licks. “Should someone check on her? Make sure she’s fine?”

“We could,” Momo answered before putting your tip back into her mouth and sucking any last bit of cum out. Slowly, she released your cock from her pursed lips with a small pop and smiled up at you. “Or how about you go and go check on her, see if she needs anything, if you know what I mean.”

“You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Momo replied as she stood up from the bed and grabbed your cock with her hand. “Clearly you still have enough in the tank to go again.”

“Somehow, yeah,” you sighed as Momo gently stroked you back to life yet again. “Fuck, what a night,”

“Good, she deserves it,” Momo let go of your cock and climbed next to Sana in the other bed. “It’s nice to see her finally let loose with a fan. Don’t knock, it won’t be locked.”

So you got off the bed, wrapped up in a robe as you waddled over to the bathroom. Sure enough, the door was unlocked, and inside was Mina laying in the bathtub with her eyes closed.

“Mina?” you whispered, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep

She opened her eyes slowly and turned to you, her face immediately lighting up.

“Hey!” she slurred while lifting herself halfway up from the tub, her cute tits hanging over the edge. “Come here.”

“What’s going on princess?” you walked up to her, kicking away the emptied wine bottle to the side. “You good?”

“I’m fucking great,” she giggled, reaching her arms out towards you. “I wanna try sucking it.”

“Oh?” you quickly grabbed her arm as she slipped into the tub.

“Oops,” she giggled again before lifting herself back up. “Yeah, I’m sure, come here.”

“Be careful,” you advised her as you stepped closer, letting her undo your robe and drop it to the floor. “Maybe we don’t do this right now?”

She opened her mouth wide, completely ignoring you, wrapped her lips around your shaft and immediately began blowing you. Her lips were soft and her face was fucking stunning, but her movements were uncoordinated and messy. You knew she was trying, and you applauded her for it, but you could tell she was struggling. She struggled to coordinate her mouth, and she kept losing balance. After just a minute or so, Mina pulled back, gasping deeply for air.

“Mina, you good?” you began asking before she waved you off.

Mina took your cock back into her mouth, this time moving faster and with more conviction, but her movements were still awkward. It felt nice, there was no denying that, and it definitely looked fucking great, but you could tell something was off.

Suddenly, she stopped.

“Everything alright?”

“Do you think you could…” her voice trailed off and she looked to the side, gripping the edge of the tub tightly and breathing deeply through an opened mouth.

Frankly, it wasn’t fair how stupidly cute this girl was. Her shyness just made her so insanely adorable. No matter what her next words were, you already knew your answer.

“Yes?” you gently encouraged her to continue.

“Could you…” she hiccupped as she turned up to face you again, her face bright red. “Take me like how you took Sana earlier?”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, taken aback at the request. “You mean in your–”

“No no no!” she quickly stammered. “I just mean from behind. Unless… well, actually I don’t think I’m ready for…”

“I understand,” you replied warmly with a smile before leaning in and kissing her. “Anything you want. Come here.”

Mina smiled brightly – putting the sun to shame – nodding eagerly before lifting herself up and out of the bathtub. She took your hand as you guided her over to the counter, water dripping off her slender body, and placed her hands on the hard marble. She stared into your eyes through the mirror, something clearly on her mind.

“What is it?” you asked gently.

“Do you think I could…” she hesitated, biting her lip. “Does it hurt?”

“You mean in here?” you asked as you slid your hand between her cheeks, carefully prodding her asshole. She nodded, expression screaming vulnerability, before you continued softly. “It can, sort of depends on the person.”

“Do you want…” she hesitated again, the timidness in her voice made each word hang suspended in the air. “If you do, I’d try.”

“How about we start with what you want first, and then we’ll see later?” you suggested with a tender smile as you moved your hand up to her lower back. “Bend over princess.”

She obliged, pivoting at the hips until her soft breasts hung just a couple of inches from the countertop, swaying just slightly, her elbows holding her body up. You leaned over her from behind and placed a prolonged, tender kiss on her back as you began gently kneading her ass with both of your hands.

“Ready?” you asked, spreading her slightly.

“Yes,” Mina whispered, brushing her hair out of her face before locking eyes with you in the mirror again.

She was so insanely beautiful. With caution, you lined yourself up and began slowly pushing forward into Mina’s tight little pussy. The moan, with the way her eyes shut tight and the way her forehead wrinkled ever so slightly, it was enough to make you melt. It wasn’t even your first time putting it in her tonight, yet somehow you had forgotten how amazingly tight she was.

“That’s good,” you mumbled quietly, rubbing your hands up and down her sides slowly as you began softly thrusting into her. “Tell me what you need.”

“Hard,” she answered, to your surprise, gritting her teeth. “I want to try.”

“Okay,” you whispered back, bringing your hands to her hips and tightening your grip.

Then, as per her request, you pulled your hips back and slammed them forward, shoving your cock all the way balls deep into Mina’s pussy for the first time. She screamed out, her feminine voice echoing against the marble walls, and her knees buckled, nearly dropping her body to the cold tiles below.

“Are you–”

“Again,” she sobbed, cutting you off, lifting her head up and opening her eyes, full of determination.

This girl would be the end of you. After taking a deep breath, you squeezed her hips once more before moving back. This time, you plowed forward and immediately pulled back before doing it again, and again, and again. You let her soft squeals fill the air as her legs began giving out, pressing her hips hard into the countertop, slamming into her pussy a couple more times, with as much power as you could muster, before pausing.

“Mina?” you slowed down, easing your cock as slowly into her as possible, massaging her back tenderly until her body stopped trembling. “You alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “D-Do I feel… good for you…?”

“You feel fucking amazing,” you whispered, leaning forward onto her back and wrapping your arms around her body, hugging her tight. “But you don’t have to do anything for me, I’m here for you, not the other way around.”

“I just want you to feel good…” she whispered back. “Since you’re my first.”

“I’m–” your voice hitched, getting stuck in your throat.

With your heart beating out of your chest, you leaned back, easing yourself out of Mina’s warmth carefully before grabbing her and turning her around. You stared tenderly into her eyes – they were still damp from earlier – before cupping her face in your hands and pressing your lips against hers. You kissed her until you could feel her physically relax – only then did you let her go. Mina stared back at you, lips slightly parted, breathing deeply.

“I had no idea that I was your first,” you broke the silence.

“I hope you don’t think I’m regretting anything,” Mina replied, her lips curling into a small, shy smile. “Tonight has been amazing.”

“Is that you or the wine talking?”

“Definitely me,” she giggled adorably. “I sobered up pretty quick after you slammed your…”

“Sorry–”

“Don’t apologize, I asked for it,” Mina cut you off sternly. “As much as it hurt, it also felt nice.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled at her as you brushed her hair out of her face, “but I don’t believe you.”

“You’re right,” Mina giggled softly, wiping her eyes again. “That really hurt.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, closing the distance between your mouths and kissing her tenderly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s fine,” Mina whispered back, sliding her hands around your body. “Does the other hole hurt that much more?”

“Mina,” you muttered, leaning back slightly and pushing her hair behind her ear. “If you want to try, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it, just tell me.”

“I’m just…” she hesitated again.

“No pressure, whatever you want, I’m yours,” you replied softly, giving her another kiss. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” she asked, looking up at you with glossy eyes that could melt the fibres of your heart.

“I’d never.”

“It’s really stupid but…” she began slowly. “I just saw how you looked earlier with Sana… I’m just a bit jealous I guess.”

“Mina, it’s not a competition,” you reassured her gently, leaning in closer to her until you could feel her warmth on your skin. “I’ve loved every moment with you, seriously.”

“It’s not just you. It feels like every fan we’ve had in the room just goes crazy for her,” Mina continued. “And meanwhile, I never even have the courage to do anything with them, I just watch or wait for them to finish before I come back to the room.”

“Mina, you are amazing,” you wanted to rip your hair out in frustration, desperately trying to figure out how to convince this beauty of a woman how perfect she was.

“So what am I doing wrong?” she asked with tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t even make you cum.”

“Nothing!” you replied, almost angrily. “Just, maybe you just need to be more of yourself, and not like Sana or Momo.”

She paused for a moment, pondering your line, before nodding slightly up at you. “How?” she asked earnestly. “What should I do?”

“That’s what I mean,” you pushed her hair behind her ear. “You have to tell me. Whatever feels right. I can’t decide for you.”

Mina hesitated, but then she grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the toilet. She sat you down on the seat and took your cock in her gentle fingers, stroking you softly while staring into your eyes.

“Alright,” she whispered as she dropped down to her knees.

She leaned over your lap and slowly lowered her lips to your cock and began sucking your tip. With a tight seal around your cock, she used her hand to stroke you up and down softly. It already felt a million times better. This time, she wasn’t timid, she wasn’t nervous, she was confident. That made all the difference.

“That’s nice,” you moaned as Mina worked.

The girl was so unbelievably beautiful with your cock in her mouth. Each movement was delicate and graceful. There wasn’t a rough cell in her body, she was pure cloudy softness. Her tongue and lips created this beautifully stunning little medley of pleasure against your tip, combined with her steady and gentle strokes, it felt amazing.

Just as you felt yourself nearing completion, Mina let go of your cock. She had no idea how close you were just now, but she also seemingly didn’t care as she had her mind set on what was coming next. With that same grace and elegance that her entire body exuded, Mina got up from her knees and straddled your lap.

As she began lowering her body slowly, you helped her by holding your cock steady. Even now, in your hands, your cock was throbbing at the sight of Mina’s soft pussy. Her entrancing folds leisurely spread apart, making room for your cock to enter. Just like that, in a single movement, Mina lowered herself onto your shaft.

She rested her hands on your shoulders, her mouth wide open and eyes shut, as she began bouncing up and down carefully on your cock. The beauty of Mina’s movements was how perfectly calm they were. She wasn’t jumping around all crazy, she wasn’t rough, it was just a melodic rhythm of her pussy working your cock.

And fuck did she look good. You gradually worked your hands up Mina’s hips towards her gentle tits, caressing each curve on the way, pressing into her soft chest. You took her nipples between your fingers, squeezing them softly, quickly wiping the saliva off your lips as you felt yourself drooling over the view of Mina’s tits.

She kept bouncing, just as steadily and carefully as ever, making little circles with her hips against your cock. Her pussy was warmer than ever before, and still just as tight. Then, she began moaning, and you felt her pussy contracting. Yet, despite the waves of tightness you felt her pussy emanating against your cock, she didn’t scream or cry out. She let the most delicate breaths escape her lips, her eyes still shut tight, and her pussy gushing all over your cock.

While she finished, you felt yourself nearing as well. Your hands, which had let go of Mina’s tits, gradually made their way down her body again, resting against her ass. Mina’s ass was softer than ever, the perfect handfuls. You pulled her cheeks apart slightly, giving them each a couple of slaps as your cock throbbed and cried with the final few little bounces Mina took.

Working in tandem with her movements, you gave your hips just a couple of small thrusts before pulling Mina down on your cock and holding her steady as you felt the first spurt of cum shoot into her. You moaned out, way louder than expected, before grabbing Mina’s back and pulling her into a tight hug around your body.

She wrapped her arms around you as well, squeezing back just as hard, letting her pussy drain your cock of all the cum you had left inside you. The two of you held together in silent warmth, tears filling your eyes with how good Mina’s pussy felt and how hard you were cumming inside her. You quickly stopped yourself once your body began calming down and you felt your nails digging into Mina’s back.

“Sorry!” you gasped, voice raspier than ever.

“Don’t,” Mina whispered back, her eyes dewy and soft as she finally opened them to stare at you.

Even though you wanted to tell her how amazing that felt, and how perfect she was, you couldn’t find the words nor the ability to share them. So, instead, you settled by leaning in for a kiss. Mina noticed the second you leaned forward and met you, crashing her mouth against yours, grabbing the back of your back with her hands.

The two of you kissed for a long while, your cock gently softening inside Mina’s warm pussy until you felt it slip out. Only then, did Mina let the kiss end, leaning back and staring at you through tears.

“That was so perfect,” you whispered, stroking Mina’s hair out of her face.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “For everything. Seriously.”

Mina, taking your hand, carefully got off your lap. She took a glance down between her legs and saw streaks of your cum going all the way down her thighs. You grabbed a wad of toilet paper and carefully wiped her clean as she stood before you with her hands on your shoulders for balance.

“So what now?” Mina asked, smiling her thanks as you finished wiping her off. “Back to one of them?”

“No,” you replied softly before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Mina’s pussy.

“Oh!” she gasped, jolting slightly but not pulling back. She quickly warmed up to the kiss, running her hands through your hair as you gave her pussy a final few sucks.

“I’m done, and happy to end with that,” you added as you pulled back and stood up in front of Mina.

Mina looked to the side, her cheeks blushed bright red, but you didn’t let her look away. You calmly pushed her face back towards you and leaned in for another short kiss before holding your hand out for her to take. She accepted, walking with you out of the bathroom. The two of you walked back into the bedroom to find Momo and Sana passed out in each other’s arms.

“I guess they’re also done,” Mina giggled softly. “It looks like you’ll get your wish. Heading back to your room then?”

“I don’t know,” you began replying as you hugged Mina from behind and placed your chin on her shoulder. “I really enjoy holding you, and my room is pretty empty.”

“Unfortunately I don’t feel like getting dressed, so I can’t go back to your room with you,” Mina giggled again before grabbing your hand and pulling you with her to her bed. “But how’s this?”

“Perfect,” you lay down on top of Mina’s body and tossed the blanket over your back. “I guess I’m staying the night.”

Mina looked up at you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen before reaching over and hitting the light switch, leaving the room in darkness. Then, she pulled you closer and kissed you again with her legs wrapped around your waist. The two of you ended up making out for the next hour or so, not caring at all about anything else in the world.

Eventually, you both drifted off, still tangled in each other’s warmth. It felt like an ending, but also a beginning – like no one could know what the future might bring. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the girl in your arms, and with that, you found the deepest, most peaceful sleep you could ever imagine.

A/N:

This might just be the horniest piece I've ever written. There's actually like 95% just smut, 5% plot. Whatever, I was horny, enjoy. It's about time I give these three some pure smut, they deserve it so much. This was easily long enough to be 2 or 3 parts, but it was all literally one scene without any natural breaks, so one part it is.

I've just been finishing up a bunch of my partially completed fics recently, thus the frequent uploads. The pace will obviously slow down again, but I've also started up a couple of new fics again. I just keep getting new ideas and wanting to write them. Anna from Meovv still on the to-do list at some point!

A few of you have been asking for Exchange, but sorry that series is still taking a short break, not super motivated to work on it at the moment and I don't wanna just rush a mediocre update. Debauchery part 1 did quite well, so I'll probably try getting part 2 out soonish. I'll give TPM and DS a bit longer before I post the next parts, but just know they're already being worked on. And of course, I still have a handful of Roommates fics in progress, I'll get to those eventually too!

Love y'all, be safe, watch your health, stay horny. I'm still reading your asks and messages whenever I can! <3

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