iskandersmuts

[iskandersmuts]

How about a story of ALICE Sohee, tripleS Yooyeon and H2H Jiwoo, being your older sisters that took you to marry them, but the reader actually wants to be their husband

YOU'RE OUR HUSBAND NOW

Sohee,Yooyeon & Jiwoo x Male Reader

You didn’t think they were serious. Not when they dragged you out of your shared apartment in the middle of the night, not when Sohee winked and tossed a ring box into your lap, and definitely not when Yooyeon whispered in your ear that tonight, you were going to be theirs forever.

But now?

Now you were standing inside a private suite at a luxury resort, freshly “married” to all three of them in a private, barely-legal ceremony that might’ve been a little sketchy… if it weren’t for how much you wanted it.

“You’re really quiet,” Jiwoo purred, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. “Nervous, baby?”

You shivered.

Jiwoo’s voice was velvet—sweet, warm, and dangerous. Her hands slid up your chest slowly, possessively, pulling your shirt up inch by inch.

“I think he’s just being polite,” Sohee teased from the bed, now wearing a silk robe far too short to be modest. “He knows it’s rude to drool.”

“You didn’t even give him time to breathe.” Yooyeon chuckled, lounging beside her in a black lace camisole. “We didn’t marry him just to bully him. Well... not only.”

Jiwoo giggled at that, fingers brushing your stomach now.

“Three wives,” you mumbled. “I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or dead.”

“You’ll be gasping soon enough,” Sohee smirked, leaning forward, robe slipping to expose the swell of her chest. “C’mere, husband. Let your noonas take care of you.”

You barely made it to the bed before Sohee pulled you in for a deep, slow kiss. She tasted like strawberries and wine, soft lips moving against yours in lazy, sultry circles.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you groan—and when you opened your eyes, Yooyeon was already beside you, trailing her nails down your chest.

“You’re so cute when you moan,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours. “Don’t hold back. Not tonight.”

Jiwoo was behind you again, running her hands over your back and hips, kneading your thighs, rubbing her lips against your neck.

“Let us love you properly.”

You didn’t even realize how naked you were until Sohee’s lips trailed from your mouth to your chest, then lower—licking, kissing, biting down gently.

“Jiwoo, help me hold his arms,” she grinned. “He’s twitching already.”

“Excited little husband,” Jiwoo hummed, her grip surprisingly firm as she pinned your wrists above your head, straddling your chest in just a lacy pair of black panties. “Sohee, make him beg.”

Sohee didn’t hesitate.

She wrapped her lips around your cock, slow and wet, her tongue curling perfectly along the underside as she bobbed her head—making obscene slurping sounds as she worked you deeper, deliberately messy.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, squirming under Jiwoo’s hold. “Sohee—noona, that feels—”

“I know, baby,” Sohee cooed, coming off with a pop before licking her lips. “I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks.”

Jiwoo ground down on your chest, moaning softly when your skin rubbed against the soaked fabric of her panties. She leaned down and kissed your cheek, voice like syrup:

“We all have.”

Yooyeon moved behind Sohee now, taking your cock in her hand and stroking it slowly while pressing kisses along your thighs.

“You’re already leaking,” she teased. “You’re not going to last, are you?”

“N-Noona, I—”

“Shhh.” Jiwoo’s fingers brushed your lips. “We’re taking turns.”

Sohee straddled your hips next, sinking down onto your cock with a shiver and a slow exhale.

“Fuuuck, I missed this,” she whispered, riding you in deep, slow rolls that made your stomach tighten. “Look at you… trembling already. You want to be a good husband, don’t you?”

You nodded frantically, gripping the sheets.

Sohee leaned in, tongue tracing the shell of your ear.

“Then let your wife use you.”

Yooyeon sat on your face while Sohee rode you—soft thighs squeezing your head, her slick folds smearing across your lips as she moaned and guided your tongue exactly where she wanted it.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Keep licking. You’ll make me cum, won’t you?”

You tried. You really did.

But the way Sohee bounced on your cock, moaning your name with every slap of her thighs against your hips, made it impossible to focus.

You whimpered against Yooyeon’s pussy as your orgasm hit you hard—hips jerking, cum flooding into Sohee as she gasped and held herself down on you, shuddering.

“Yes, baby, yes, give me all of it—”

“God, he came so much,” Jiwoo whispered, watching your cock twitch inside Sohee. “But we’re not done.”

They gave you a minute. Maybe two.

Jiwoo didn’t waste time.

She guided you onto your back again and climbed on, sliding your still-hard cock into her warm, tight heat with a satisfied groan.

“You can still get hard after that?” she laughed breathlessly. “You really were made to be our husband.”

You moaned helplessly, barely able to think.

Jiwoo was slower than Sohee—deeper, more deliberate. She rolled her hips in perfect circles, hands splayed on your chest, watching your every expression like it was her personal show.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you gasped.

“You’ll cum inside me too, won’t you?” Jiwoo whispered, leaning in, lips brushing yours. “Fill your wife like a good boy.”

You barely nodded before it hit you again—another orgasm, shorter but just as intense, your hips jerking as you spilled into her.

Jiwoo moaned, biting your lip, grinding down on your cock until you were twitching and dazed.

Yooyeon was the softest—but somehow, the most dangerous.

She kissed you as she slowly eased herself down on your cock, hands cupping your face.

“You’re beautiful like this,” she whispered. “All used up. All ours.”

She rode you gently, whispering sweet things, licking your lips, telling you how much she loved you—how lucky they were.

You were lightheaded, overstimulated, dizzy with how good it felt.

“Noona, I don’t think—”

“You can,” she whispered, clenching down. “One more for me. Please, baby?”

You couldn’t say no.

And when you came inside her, whining her name, Yooyeon kissed you softly and smiled.

Later—your head resting on Sohee’s thigh, Jiwoo spooning you from behind, Yooyeon playing with your hair—none of them spoke for a while.

Until Sohee grinned down at you.

“So, husband,” she whispered. “Think you can handle your wives every night?”

You blinked at her, still breathless.

“Only if we don’t do the wedding night thing every day…”

They laughed.

But the look in Jiwoo’s eyes said you weren’t off the hook.

Not yet.

You thought they’d let you sleep.

After they drained you dry, after you’d filled each of them once already, after your body twitched with overstimulation and your thighs stuck to the sheets from the sheer amount of cum—all you wanted was rest.

But then Sohee slid her bare thigh across your waist again, brushing your still-sensitive cock.

“Still breathing?” she whispered with a teasing grin. “That means you’re still useable.”

You let out a soft groan, not even sure if it was protest or arousal. Your cock twitched pathetically against her skin.

“Ohhh, look at him,” Jiwoo said, crawling up beside you, slick from your previous load and grinning like a demon in the dark. “He’s hard again. That’s our husband.”

“Maybe we should reward him,” Yooyeon purred, her voice low as she leaned down and dragged her tongue along your chest. “After all, he did make all three of us cum.”

Sohee shifted up, lifting her hips as she grabbed your cock and gave it a few slow, tight pumps.

“But he didn’t see this view yet.”

And then she straddled you.

Reverse cowgirl.

Her ass—round, smooth, flushed from earlier—sat perfectly above your cock as she lined you up and slid down with a loud, wet sound that echoed in the room.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Sohee moaned, rolling her hips slowly as her back arched. “You feel even better the second time.”

You stared—eyes wide, mouth dry—as her ass bounced against your thighs in long, punishing strokes. She leaned forward just enough to stretch, her spine bending like a dancer’s as she threw glances at Jiwoo and Yooyeon over her shoulder.

“Tell him how good he looks inside me,” she gasped, riding you faster now. “Tell our husband how much he makes me drip.”

Yooyeon didn’t hesitate.

She crawled up and kissed your cheek before whispering, “You’re throbbing inside her, baby. Look at how deep you are. You’re stretching Sohee out like you own her.”

Jiwoo moaned and grabbed your hand, sucking your fingers slowly before guiding them to her tits.

“Fuck, I wanna ride him next,” she muttered. “But I think he’s gonna blow.”

You were. Your hips jerked up as Sohee slammed down harder, her ass clapping against your skin. The wet squelch of her pussy wrapped around your cock had your head spinning.

“Cum,” she hissed, looking over her shoulder again. “Right now, baby. Fill me again.”

You groaned—loud, helpless—and spilled into her, your cock twitching wildly as she ground down and milked you for every drop.

But they still weren’t done.

You barely had time to recover before Yooyeon was between your legs, her lips wrapped around the tip of your cock while Jiwoo stroked the shaft beside her.

“Look at this mess,” Jiwoo muttered. “He came so much, it’s dripping out.”

Yooyeon moaned around your tip and pulled off with a pop.

“I want to taste all of it.”

You gasped, overstimulation kicking in hard as both of them leaned in—licking your cock from base to tip, tongues meeting, sharing the taste of you and Sohee mixed together.

“Fuck, fuck, please—” you whimpered, hands clenched in the sheets.

Jiwoo smiled darkly. “He’s shaking.”

“Good,” Yooyeon whispered, drool spilling from the corner of her lips as she kissed your tip. “He’s supposed to.”

Then they both took you in.

Yooyeon sucked the head while Jiwoo took the base—lips messy, saliva dripping, their tongues tangling around your shaft as they moaned into each other’s mouths.

It was sloppy. Filthy.

Yooyeon’s spit coated your cock, strings of it clinging to Jiwoo’s lips every time they pulled apart just to kiss each other again and swallow what they tasted.

“You belong to us now,” Jiwoo murmured, tongue dragging along your length before sucking your balls into her mouth with obscene noise.

“Forever,” Yooyeon added, lips wrapping tight again. “Every inch of you.”

You were dizzy.

Your cock was still hard—shiny, twitching, wet—and both their mouths moved in tandem, devouring you like you were their favorite dessert.

And then, somehow, you came again.

You moaned brokenly, hips bucking, cum shooting into their mouths—Yooyeon swallowing, Jiwoo licking the rest from your shaft like her life depended on it.

They lay beside you afterward, giggling, sticky, and proud.

Sohee leaned in from behind and whispered, “Still breathing?”

You couldn’t answer.

Jiwoo kissed your shoulder. “Still twitching. I think he wants another round.”

Yooyeon nibbled your ear. “You’re our husband now. We decide when the night ends.”

Your cock pulsed again.

They all laughed—soft, breathless, wicked.

And the night continued.

[iskandersmuts]

Sohee's Library Mating

ALICE Sohee x Male Reader

Tags : Library Sex, Exhibitionism, Impregnation, Breeding Sex, Mating, Dirty Words, Sedcution, Shy Male Reader, Lots of Kissing, Sweaty, Big Ass, Big Tits

Words : 3,261 Words

A Lovely Commision Work For My Friend @KariNeko From Ko-Fi. I Hope You All Like It. Enjoyyy

The library was quiet, the kind of silence that made your breathing feel louder than it should be. You sat at a secluded corner table, surrounded by towering shelves of books, your notebook open but untouched. The soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the occasional rustle of pages turning were the only sounds. You were focused—or at least pretending to be—on your studies when you felt it. A presence. Someone approaching.

You looked up, and there she was. Sohee.

She stood before you, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes bold and unflinching. She wore a fitted sweater that clung to her curves, paired with a short skirt that left little to the imagination. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing slightly uneven. She didn’t say a word at first, just stared at you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Hi,” she finally said, her voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. “Uh… hi.” Your voice came out softer than you intended, barely above a whisper.

She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re always here, aren’t you? Alone. Quiet. I’ve noticed you.”

Your face burned. You weren’t used to being noticed, let alone by someone like her. Sohee was… different. Confident. Magnetic. The kind of person who commanded attention without trying. And yet here she was, standing in front of you, her gaze locked onto yours.

“I… I guess I am,” you stammered, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook.

She stepped closer, her skirt swaying gently with the movement. Her perfume—something sweet and subtle—filled the air around you. “Do you ever take a break?” she asked, her tone teasing. “Or are you just too shy to talk to anyone?”

Your throat felt dry. “I’m not shy,” you lied, though the way your voice wavered gave you away.

She laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I think you are,” she said, leaning in just enough to make your breath catch. “But don’t worry. I like shy.”

Before you could process what was happening, she closed the distance between you. Her lips met yours in a kiss so sudden, so electric, that you froze. It was soft at first, tentative, but then she deepened it, her hands finding their way to the sides of your face. Her touch was warm, her fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as she kissed you with a hunger that left you dizzy.

When she finally pulled back, you were panting, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “See? Not so shy now, are you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you watched, wide-eyed, as she began to unbutton her sweater. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, revealing a simple bra underneath. Your gaze flickered downward, only for a moment, before you forced yourself to look away. But Sohee wasn’t having it. She grabbed your chin, gently turning your face back to hers.

“Don’t look away,” she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of command. “I want you to see me.”

Your cheeks flushed again, hotter this time. You could feel the heat spreading down your neck, your body reacting in ways you couldn’t control. She stepped even closer, her skirt brushing against your legs. Her hands moved to her waist, fingers hooking into the fabric of her skirt. Slowly, deliberately, she slid it down, letting it pool at her feet. Now all that remained were her panties, sheer and barely there.

“Sohee,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling. “W-what are you doing?”

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she replied, her tone playful. “I’m giving you what you’ve been too shy to ask for.”

Your breath hitched as she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear. “And trust me,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin, “you’re going to love it.”

Her hands moved to your pants, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper. You tensed, your mind racing. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. Her fingers trailed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your boxers. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body responding instinctively to her touch.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her gaze intense. “You’re so tense,” she said, her voice softening. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

Her words were soothing, but your thoughts were anything but calm. You could feel yourself growing harder under her touch, your restraint slipping away with every passing second. Sohee noticed, of course she did. Her smile widened, and she leaned in again, her lips grazing yours.

“That’s it,” she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go.”

Her hands moved again, this time sliding your pants and boxers down past your thighs. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sound threatening to escape your throat. Sohee didn’t miss it. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she knelt down in front of you, her fingers lightly tracing along your length.

“So eager,” she teased, her tone laced with mock innocence. “But don’t worry. I’ll take my time.”

She leaned forward, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your breath caught, your hands gripping the edge of the table for support. She looked up at you through her lashes, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “But let’s see if we can’t make you moan.”

Her lips moved closer, her breath hot against you as she paused just inches away. Your heart was racing, your body trembling with anticipation. And then—

“Hey! Is anyone back here?”

The sudden voice shattered the moment. Sohee froze, her eyes widening in surprise. You both turned toward the sound, the spell broken as reality came crashing back in. Footsteps echoed through the library, growing louder as someone approached.

Sohee shot you a quick glance, her expression a mix of frustration and amusement. “Guess we’ll have to continue this later,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

She straightened up, grabbing her clothes and slipping them back on with practiced ease. You hurriedly pulled your pants up, your face burning with embarrassment. The footsteps were closer now, and you could hear the faint murmur of voices.

Sohee leaned in one last time, her lips brushing against your ear. “Meet me tomorrow night,” she whispered. “Same place. Don’t be late.”

Before you could respond, she turned away, disappearing between the bookshelves just as the librarian rounded the corner. You sat there, your chest heaving, your mind spinning. What had just happened? And more importantly… would it happen again?

The librarian gave you a curious look but didn’t say anything. You forced a smile, pretending to focus on your notebook even though your thoughts were elsewhere entirely. Your heart was still pounding, your body buzzing with the remnants of what Sohee had started.

Tomorrow night, you thought, swallowing hard. What will happen tomorrow night?

The next night, you found yourself back in the library, your heart racing as you scanned the dimly lit aisles. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and the faint hum of silence that only libraries possess. Your mind wouldn’t stop replaying the events of the previous evening. Would she really come? Would she actually do it again? Just as the questions began to spiral, a soft hand gripped your arm, pulling you into the shadows.

“You came,” Sohee whispered, her voice low and sultry. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her bold eyes gleamed with intensity. She wore a tight, form-fitting outfit that clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

Before you could respond, she took your hand and led you deeper into the library, past rows of bookshelves and into a secluded corner you hadn’t noticed before. There, on the floor, was a mattress covered with a soft blanket. She turned to you, her gaze locking with yours, and gestured for you to sit down. Your knees wobbled slightly as you obeyed, the anticipation already sending a rush of heat through your body.

Sohee didn’t waste any time. She straddled your lap, her weight pressing down on you in the most tantalizing way. Her hands framed your face as she leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue teased yours, demanding more, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind. Your hands instinctively found her waist, gripping her tightly as she ground herself against you. Even through the layers of clothing, you could feel the heat radiating from her core.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she murmured against your lips, her voice trembling with need. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark with desire. “I want you. Right now.”

Her fingers worked quickly, unbuckling your belt and pulling your pants down just enough to free your cock. You gasped as her cool hand wrapped around you, stroking you firmly. She’s so confident, so in control. The thought only intensified the fire building inside you. Your cock grew harder with every stroke, until it was throbbing in her hand.

Sohee grinned, clearly pleased with the effect she was having on you. “Good,” she purred, shifting slightly to position herself over you. She reached down between her legs, pulling her panties to the side, and guided your cock to her entrance. The tip brushed against her wetness, and you both groaned softly at the contact.

“Ready?” she asked, though it was clear from the hunger in her eyes that she wasn’t really asking for permission. Before you could answer, she sank down onto you, taking you in fully in one smooth motion. You both let out a muffled moan, biting your lips to keep from being too loud. She felt incredible—hot, tight, and so impossibly wet—and you couldn’t stop yourself from thrusting up into her instinctively.

Sohee’s hands moved to your shoulders for balance as she began to move, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, and you could see the effort it took for her to stay quiet. Her breasts bounced tantalizingly in front of your face, and you couldn’t resist leaning forward to capture one of her nipples in your mouth through the thin fabric of her top. She shuddered at the sensation, her movements becoming more erratic.

“Yes,” she hissed, her fingers tightening on your shoulders. “Don’t stop.”

Encouraged, you reached up to cup her other breast, kneading it gently as she rode you. Her pace quickened, her hips slamming down onto you with increasing urgency. The wet, rhythmic sounds of your bodies meeting filled the small space, and you could feel the tension building deep within you. Sohee’s breathing became more erratic, her moans escaping in short, stifled bursts as pleasure overtook her.

“I’m so close,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours as she moved faster, harder. Her pussy clenched around you, and you knew she was teetering on the edge. The sensation was almost too much to bear—you could feel your own orgasm building, ready to explode at any moment.

“Cum with me,” Sohee pleaded, her voice desperate now. Her hips rocked furiously against you, and then she froze, her body tensing as a wave of ecstasy washed over her. Her pussy tightened around your cock in rhythmic pulses, and that was all it took to push you over the edge. With a muffled groan, you buried yourself deep inside her, your release flooding into her as she trembled above you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through your bodies. Sohee’s breath was hot against your neck as she pressed her lips to your skin, her kisses soft and lingering. Finally, she leaned back, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of satisfaction and something else—something deeper.

“That was…” she began, but her words trailed off as she caught the sound of footsteps approaching. Her eyes widened, and she quickly slid off you, pulling her panties back into place and adjusting her clothes. “We should leave before someone finds us,” she whispered, her voice tinged with urgency.

You nodded, still too dazed to speak, and hurriedly pulled your pants back up. Sohee grabbed your hand and led you out of the secluded corner, her movements quick and silent. As you walked away from the scene of your secret tryst, your heart was still pounding, your body buzzing with the aftermath of what had just happened. Sohee glanced back at you, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Same time tomorrow?“

The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional muffled cough. You were sitting at your usual table, surrounded by stacks of books, trying to focus on your studies. But your mind kept wandering back to Sohee, to the heat of her body pressed against yours, to the way her lips had felt on your skin. Just the memory of it made your pulse quicken.

You didn’t have to wait long. She appeared out of nowhere, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her bold eyes locking onto you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. She was wearing a tight skirt that hugged her curves and a blouse that left little to the imagination. The scent of her perfume, sweet and intoxicating, filled the air as she approached your table.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said, her voice low and teasing. She leaned over the table, her cleavage on full display, and you felt your face flush with heat. “Or are you just shy?”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. Her grip was firm, her touch electric. She led you through the maze of bookshelves, her hips swaying with every step, until you reached a secluded corner, hidden from prying eyes.

She turned to face you, her eyes dark with desire. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “About how you felt inside me.”

Her words sent a jolt of arousal straight to your cock, and you could feel it hardening against the fabric of your pants. Sohee noticed, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she reached down and cupped you through your jeans.

“You’re already hard for me,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of your cock. “Such a good boy.”

You couldn’t help but moan softly, your hips twitching as her touch grew more insistent. She unbuttoned your jeans with practiced ease, pulling them down just enough to free your cock. Her eyes widened as she took in its size, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” she breathed, her voice husky with arousal. She dropped to her knees, her hands gripping your hips as she leaned in and took you into her mouth.

The sensation was overwhelming. Her lips were soft, her tongue hot and wet as it swirled around the head of your cock. She took you deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked, and you couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a mix of triumph and lust.

“You taste so good,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me again.”

She stood up, her skirt hiking up as she pressed herself against you. Her hands fumbled with your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside before she began to undress. Her blouse fell to the floor, followed by her bra, revealing her full breasts. She stepped out of her skirt and panties, leaving her completely bare before you.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice shaking with need. “Right here, against the wall.”

She turned around, pressing her hands against the cool surface of the wall, her ass beckoning you. You stepped forward, your cock throbbing with anticipation, and gripped her hips. She was already wet, her slickness coating your fingers as you slid them between her thighs.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as you teased her entrance. “I need you.”

You couldn’t resist any longer. You positioned yourself at her entrance, pushing inside her with one smooth thrust. Sohee gasped, her walls clenching around you as you filled her completely. She was tight, wet, and so fucking hot that it was almost too much to bear.

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice loud enough that you were sure someone would hear. “Fuck me harder.”

You obliged, gripping her hips tightly as you began to thrust into her with a punishing pace. Her ass slapped against your thighs with every movement, the sound echoing in the quiet corner of the library. Sohee’s moans grew louder, her head thrown back as she lost herself in the sensation.

“Oh God,” she cried, her nails digging into the wall. “You feel so good inside me.”

Her pussy was dripping, her slickness coating both of you as you fucked her relentlessly. You could feel her orgasm building, her walls tightening around you as she trembled with pleasure. She reached back, gripping your thigh as she urged you on.

“Cum with me,” she begged, her voice desperate and raw. “Fill me up, make me yours.”

Her words pushed you over the edge. With a groan, you buried yourself deep inside her, your release flooding into her as she came undone. Her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm, her pussy squeezing you in rhythmic pulses as she cried out in ecstasy.

You held her up as she collapsed against the wall, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Her skin was slick with sweat, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. She turned to look at you, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper—something primal.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She reached down, her fingers brushing against her swollen belly. “You’ve made me so happy.”

You pulled out of her, watching as your cum leaked down her thighs. Sohee smiled, her expression soft and content, before she leaned in and kissed you deeply. Her lips were soft, her tongue teasing yours as she poured her gratitude into the kiss.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked, her voice teasing as she pulled away. Her hand lingered on your chest, her touch warm and reassuring.

You nodded, still too dazed to speak. Sohee smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief, before she grabbed her clothes and began to dress. You watched her, your heart still racing, your body buzzing with the aftermath of what had just happened.

As she slipped her blouse back on, she glanced at you over her shoulder, a sly smile playing on her lips. “You better be ready,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “Because next time, I won’t be holding back.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her hips swaying with every step, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling and your body still craving more

[iskandersmuts]

Synopsis: You live day by day selling street food in a city that never noticed you. Then Karina shows up—lost, desperate, searching for her sister. You give her warmth. A place to stay. A reason to laugh again. But she wasn’t here for love.

Word Count: 9,221

Karina X Male Reader

“Fresh and hot tteokbokki! Only right here!”

You call out into the cold night, voice louder than necessary, hoping it’ll echo enough to fill the silence that’s been gnawing at your ribs all day.

The city doesn’t look back. Neon lights blink like tired eyes.

An older man ambles up to your stall, slow and limping, drawn in by the scent of broth and chili paste. He peers at your setup like he’s been here before, or maybe just recognizes the tiredness in you.

“Hey, young man. One tteokbokki, please… and, uh, throw in a fishcake too, would you?”

You nod quickly, your smile reflexive, practiced. “Coming right up, sir!”

Even now—even when you’re dead on your feet, and the cold’s clawing at your fingers—you still smile. Because it’s easier than explaining why you feel like a ghost in your own life.

You turn, hands moving through the motions: the sizzle of rice cakes, the steam rising from the pot, the soft plop of fishcake hitting broth.

“Here you go, sir. Fresh and hot,” you say, setting it down with both hands. “Enjoy your meal!”

The man takes a bite, eyes crinkling. “You work earnestly, eh? How old are you?”

“Twenty,” you reply, wiping your hands on a stained rag. “Turning twenty-one this month.”

“Twenty? Already working like this? Shouldn’t you be at some party, or hanging out with classmates?”

You laugh, too fast. Too light. “Ah… not studying anymore.”

The words come out too easily now, worn smooth from being said so often. You stir the pot again just to keep your hands busy.

“Both my parents left.”

He stills. “Left?” he asks gently. “You mean… passed away?”

You shake your head, eyes fixed on the bubbling broth.

“Not really.”

You smile. That same broken, stitched-together smile.

“My mom left me and dad for someone richer. She just packed her things and left one morning. I took the rice cooker, too.”

You try to laugh. It comes out hollow.

“Dad stuck around for a while after that. Then one day he said he needed to ‘start fresh.’ Said he couldn’t handle it anymore.”

You pause.

“He’s with someone new now. Younger.”

You hand the man extra napkins. You don’t know why. Maybe you just need to do something. Anything.

“So,” you finish quietly, “yeah. It’s just me now.”

The old man puts his chopsticks down. The silence that follows feels heavier than any rush hour.

He opens his mouth—probably to say something kind, something useless—but nothing comes out.

You don’t mind. You’re used to people not knowing what to say.

You just go back to stirring the tteokbokki

“Have a great rest of your night, sir!”

You call out as the old man disappears into the dark, his shadow swallowed by streetlights and smoke. He’d left you a tip—maybe out of pity, maybe out of guilt. Either way, you weren’t the type to reject blessings.

You slip the bill into your pocket with quiet gratitude and turn back to your little stall. You’re just about to start packing up, the usual routine of folding tarps and draining pots, when a voice breaks through the stillness:

“Sir! Excuse me!”

You glance up, already halfway to saying no.

“Sorry, ma’am,” you call out. “Closed for the night.”

But she jogs closer, breathless. She doesn’t look dangerous—just lost. Or maybe tired in a way that feels too familiar.

“Please?” she says, voice softer this time. “I’m… not from around here. I don’t have any money. I was just wondering if I could maybe have some leftovers?”

Your heart sinks.

Not because she asked—people do, sometimes.

But because you were planning to eat those leftovers when you got home.

Still, you glance at her again. Her coat’s too thin. Her shoes are wet. She’s shivering, but trying to look unbothered. Pride clings to her like perfume—expensive but worn out.

You sigh quietly through your nose. Then reach for a clean plastic cup.

You don’t say anything as you fill it to the brim with steaming tteokbokki, then grab one of your fishcake containers and pack it generously. She watches you the whole time, arms hugging herself, like she’s not sure if she should run or cry.

“Here,” you say, handing her the food.

She blinks. “Are you… sure?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

A beat passes.

“Just eat it while it’s warm.”

“What’s your name?” you ask, sitting across from her on a small plastic stool, legs aching from the long day.

She looks up from her food, surprised.

“Karina,” she says. “Karina Yu.”

You nod slowly, committing it to memory for some reason.

“Nice to meet you, Karina. Can I ask… what you’re doing here? You said earlier you’re not really from around here, right?”

She stops chewing for a moment. Then flashes a smile—not forced, but not quite relaxed either. The kind of smile people give when they don’t want to cry in front of strangers.

“Oh. Yeah.”

She laughs under her breath.

“My sister’s missing. I’m… trying to find her.”

She says it casually, like she’s talking about a package that got lost in the mail. But her eyes—her eyes are carrying something much heavier.

“I don’t know if I’m doing it right,” she adds after a second. “But I couldn’t just sit around waiting for a call that might never come.”

She finishes chewing, then sets down the cup gently, like she doesn’t want to disturb the quiet between you.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

You shrug, wiping your hands on a rag. “Sure.”

“You work here every night?”

“Pretty much,” you say. “Six days a week. Sometimes seven.”

Her brows furrow, just a little. “That’s a lot.”

You smile, the tired kind. “Gotta eat. Gotta pay rent. You know how it is.”

She nods. Then, more softly: “Do you live alone?”

That one catches you off guard. It’s not a strange question, not really. But coming from someone you just met under a flickering streetlight, it lands heavier than it should.

“Yeah,” you answer. “It’s just me.”

You expect her to stop there. Most people do.

But Karina doesn’t.

“And your parents?” she asks carefully. “Are they… around?”

You hesitate—not because you’re offended, but because you’re not sure how much to say.

“They’re… not really in the picture anymore,” you say finally, keeping your voice light. “They had other lives they wanted to live. Without me in it.”

Her face softens. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I got used to it.”

Karina watches you for a second longer, like she’s trying to see something behind your eyes. Then she looks away, back down at the food in her hands.

“It’s weird,” she says. “We just met. But you feel kind of… familiar.”

You laugh, not sure what to make of that. “Familiar how?”

She shrugs. “Maybe just the loneliness.”

Karina doesn’t speak for a while after that. She just sits there, quietly finishing the last of the broth, her shoulders hunched against the breeze. You don’t say anything either. There’s nothing to say, really—not when silence feels more honest than small talk.

After a minute, she stands.

You follow suit, brushing your palms on your apron.

She pulls something from the inside of her coat—a small, folded piece of paper. A flyer. You can already tell what it is before she hands it to you.

A photo. A name. A number.

“If you ever see her,” she says, voice gentle but steady, “please call that number. Day or night. Doesn’t matter.”

You take it from her hands carefully, like it might fall apart in your grip.

Her sister stares up at you from the page—young, maybe younger than Karina, with soft eyes and a quiet smile. You glance at the number printed below it, then back at her.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” you say. “Promise.”

Karina nods once. “Thanks… for the food. And the seat.”

She steps back, tucking her hands into her pockets. That smile returns—but this time, it doesn’t reach her eyes.

You watch as she turns and walks down the street, disappearing into the city’s slow midnight hum.

The flyer flutters a little in your hand as the wind picks up. You fold it gently, slide it into your back pocket, and return to the stall in silence.

Somewhere in the distance, a train whistles. Somewhere else, a phone stays silent.

And you?

You stand there for a moment, wondering why she suddenly feels like a memory you haven’t made yet.

The next day comes like it always does—without warning, without pause. No text. No sign of Karina. Just the same gray sky, the same cold breeze, the same cart that needs unpacking before the city gets hungry again.

You arrive early, like always. Set up your little stall on the corner. Same battered cooler. Same scratched tongs. You try not to think too hard. There’s no room to.

By noon, you’re serving regulars. A construction worker, an old woman with a limp, a kid who always forgets to bring enough money. You don’t even flinch when he comes up short again. “Don’t worry,” you say with a grin, slipping in a second fishcake. “Tell your mom it’s on me.” The kid beams. You don’t miss the way his shoes are taped at the soles.

Later, a young woman with smudged eyeliner comes by. She doesn’t say anything at first—just stands there, fiddling with the strap of her bag. You recognize the look. Hunger dressed up as pride.

“Haven’t eaten?” you ask.

She shakes her head, eyes darting away.

You ladle some tteokbokki into a paper cup without another word, adding extra broth, even though you already rationed too tight this morning. You hand it to her like it’s no big deal. “Take your time eating,” you say. “No rush.” She nods quickly, eyes glassy. She doesn’t say thank you—but that’s okay. You’re not doing it for that.

Around mid-afternoon, your stomach starts to growl, but you ignore it. Again. You were going to save some for yourself, but what’s left isn’t much—and someone else might still need it. You can eat tomorrow. Probably.

As you’re wiping down your stall, you feel something crinkle in your back pocket.

Karina’s flyer.

You unfold it again, eyes scanning the photo, memorizing the face. There’s a faint smudge from last night’s grease on the corner. You smooth it out gently.

Still no calls. No updates. Just you. Just the cart. Just the ache.

But if she comes back—if she ever comes back—you want to be someone worth remembering. Even if that means no one remembers you.

Karina used to think the hardest part would be arriving in Korea. She was wrong. The hardest part is everything that came after.

It starts with people not taking her seriously. Police officers who smile too politely. Embassy workers who hand her forms she’s already filled out twice. Faces that glance at her missing person flyer and hand it back like it’s a menu they don’t want to order from. She tells them her sister is gone. Missing. Possibly in danger. They tell her to wait.

The waiting is unbearable. But worse than that is the knowing—knowing that if she were richer, louder, or more connected, someone might have done more by now. She’s not any of those things. She’s just Karina Yu, and all she has is the name of a younger sister and a handful of leads that keep turning into dead ends.

Hotel funds run out faster than she expected. She argues with the staff, begs for one more night, says her credit card is just acting up. They’re polite, then firm. Eventually, they stop pretending to be kind. She’s escorted out with all her things in a garbage bag, her pride stuffed in her back pocket next to a half-dead phone.

She tries a shelter, but they turn her away because she’s not a resident. She tries a church, but the food has already been distributed. She asks one restaurant if she can maybe have something small—just leftovers, anything. They pretend not to understand. She understands the meaning just fine.

She’s down to her last 3,000 won. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t scream. She just sits on a bench and stares at her sister’s photo like it might start speaking. She wonders if her sister is alive. If she’s warm. If she’s eating.

Karina isn’t.

The city moves around her like she’s invisible. She starts to feel like she is. Her coat smells like sweat and concrete. Her hair’s oily. The bruises on her pride throb louder than the ache in her stomach.

She remembers last night—your smile, your cart, the warmth of the tteokbokki. She remembers how you didn’t ask for anything. Didn’t make her feel like she had to earn the food. You just gave it.

It’s the only warmth she’s felt in days.

But she doesn’t know where to find you again.

So she keeps walking. Keeps hoping. Keeps asking.

And gets used to the sound of doors closing in her face.

She didn’t mean to pass by your stall again. Not really. She was just walking—letting her feet drag her down side streets and past closed doors, hoping maybe the city would open up for her just this once.

Then she heard your voice.

Warm. Bright. Still carrying that easy confidence that made her feel safe for one night in a week full of fear.

“Y/N! Come join us later—my son’s birthday!” a man called out from across the street.

“Will do, Mr. Park!” you replied, grinning as you handed over a cup of hot broth with practiced ease. Your hands moved quickly, like muscle memory, while your voice never lost its smile.

Karina stopped walking.

From where she stood—half-hidden behind a fruit stall—she watched you.

You were in your usual spot, apron stained and sleeves rolled, sweat beading at your brow. The steam from the pot danced in front of your face like a ghost. And yet, you looked… content. Peaceful, even.

She watched you laugh with a young boy who pointed too excitedly at the skewers. She saw the old ladies who paid you with wrinkled bills and the quiet respect you returned them with. Someone handed you a coffee, and your face lit up like it was Christmas morning.

And Karina—Karina just stood there.

Something in her chest ached. Not envy. Not quite.

Just… longing.

You didn’t have much, that much was clear. Your shoes were worn out. Your cart looked older than you. But the way the people around you smiled, the way they spoke to you—it was like you belonged to something. Like you mattered.

She hadn’t felt that in weeks. Maybe longer.

She wanted to walk up. Say hello. Ask if you remembered her. Maybe even ask for more food, though her pride was already frayed beyond stitching.

But she didn’t move.

She just watched you, alive and rooted in a city that had left her spinning.

You were okay. And she was not.

So she turned away.

Because she still had a sister to find.

And for now, that had to be enough.

You catch her from the corner of your eye—barely a figure, half-hidden behind a fruit stall across the street. She’s still. Watching.

At first, you’re not sure it’s her. But then the wind shifts, and her hair moves just enough. Her coat looks thinner than before. Her stance smaller. It’s her.

Karina.

You blink, and just like that, she starts turning away.

Your chest tightens. “Karina!”

She freezes. For a second, she doesn’t move at all. Then she turns, slow and cautious, like she’s expecting to be scolded.

You wave her over. “I’ve got food,” you call. “You don’t have to ask.”

There’s a pause. You see it in her—her pride fighting her hunger, the same wall she had up the first night. But this time, she walks toward you. Not fast. Not steady. Just… moving.

You don’t say anything when she gets close. You just reach for the freshest batch and fill a cup to the brim—extra broth, extra fishcake. No hesitation. You slide it toward her.

She sits down on the same plastic stool from before, like her body remembers it better than she does. She doesn’t meet your eyes.

You’re holding your coffee, almost cold now, but you pass it to her without thinking.

“Here,” you say. “You need it more than I do.”

She hesitates, then takes it. Her hands wrap around the cup like it’s a lifeline. She doesn’t sip yet—just holds it, lets the heat sink into her skin.

“You remembered my name,” she says quietly.

You sit across from her. “Of course I did.”

For a second, neither of you speak. You just watch her eyes scan the food, the coffee, the steam rising between you.

“Are you okay?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

She gives a tight, humorless laugh. “Do I look okay?”

You don’t answer. She doesn’t need you to.

“I haven’t had a real meal in two days,” she admits, voice low. “I’ve been sleeping in train stations. The embassy told me they’d call me if anything came up. They didn’t. Police won’t even print new flyers. I… I’m just tired.”

You nod. You don’t say I’m sorry. You just let her speak.

“No one looks me in the eye anymore,” she adds. “It’s like the longer I stay here, the more invisible I get.”

You swallow the knot in your throat and lean back slightly, eyes still on her.

“Well,” you say, voice soft but steady, “you’re not invisible to me.”

She looks up at that. Really looks. And maybe, just for a moment, something in her face untangles.

“I can help you,” you say, watching her cradle the coffee between her palms. “If you have spare flyers… I can hand them out to my customers.”

She blinks. “Really?”

You nod. “Yeah. Most of the people who come by are locals. They know the streets better than I ever will. Someone might’ve seen something.”

She stares at you, like she’s trying to figure out if this is real. Then, quietly, “Why would you want to help me?”

You think about it for a second. Not because you don’t know the answer, but because it’s hard to say out loud.

“Because you look like someone who’s been carrying too much for too long,” you say. “And because I know what it’s like… when nobody helps. When you ask and ask, and they look at you like you’re asking for too much—when really, you’re just asking to be seen.”

She doesn’t speak right away. She just stares down at the food again, like it’s suddenly too heavy to lift. Then, with a quiet voice:

“My sister… she’s all I have left.”

You nod. You don’t interrupt.

“She’s the loud one. The brave one. She gets into trouble and finds a way out. But this time… she didn’t. And no one believes me when I say she didn’t just run off. That something’s wrong.”

Her voice cracks, but she covers it with a sip of your coffee.

“I sold my laptop. My guitar. Took the first flight here. I thought I’d find her in a few days. It’s been almost three weeks.”

You lean forward, resting your arms on your knees.

“I don’t have a lot. But I have time. I have hands. And I see people every day. Let me help you.”

Karina doesn’t answer right away. She just nods, quickly, before the tears can fall.

The next morning, she’s back.

This time, she has a stack of flyers in her hand and two mismatched clips holding her hair out of her face. You greet her with a small smile, and she returns it—shy, but real.

She stays for hours. Not just to drop off flyers, but to help. She wipes tables. Passes napkins. Smiles at strangers. People start recognizing her face.

When there’s a lull, you sit beside her again. She laughs at one of your dumb jokes. You don’t remember what it was—you’re just glad she laughed.

She comes back the day after that. And the day after.

She still hasn’t found her sister. But she’s no longer alone in the search.

And neither are you

It’s late when you start closing up. The city’s quieter now, the streets still damp from a short-lived drizzle. Karina’s still there, sitting on one of the plastic stools, hugging her knees to her chest like she’s trying to make herself smaller.

She watches you pack up, like she’s memorizing the way you fold the tarp, how you secure the lids. Then, as you’re locking up the cart, she speaks.

“You never told me your name.”

You glance up at her, surprised.

She gives a small smile, sheepish. “I mean… I know it’s Y/N. But not your full name. Not really.”

You rub the back of your neck, then grin. “Y/N L/N.”

She repeats it softly under her breath, like she’s testing how it sounds in her mouth. Then nods.

“I like it.”

A beat of silence.

“Where are you headed?” you ask.

She hesitates. You catch it before she can hide it.

“I’m… still figuring that out,” she admits. “I was gonna try another 24-hour diner or subway bench. I’ll be okay.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Karina.”

She meets your eyes, like she knows what’s coming but doesn’t want to burden you with the ask.

“You can stay with me. Just for the meantime. I mean—my place is nothing fancy. It’s actually kind of falling apart. But the lock works, the water’s mostly warm, and there’s a fold-out couch that hasn’t collapsed yet.”

She blinks. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You helped me today. Let me help you back.”

She opens her mouth, maybe to refuse, but the look in your eyes stops her.

“…Okay,” she whispers. “Just for a few nights.”

You nod once. “Just a few nights.”

That night, you walk together in the quiet. She carries the leftover fishcakes. You carry everything else. She doesn’t talk much, but you notice her eyes—always watching, always thinking. When you get to your apartment, you apologize for the squeaky stairs and peeling paint. She just smiles, like she’s used to worse.

You set out a blanket and an extra hoodie. She thanks you with her eyes more than her words. You don’t pry. You just let her rest.

The next morning, she’s up before you. You find her already at the cart, sleeves rolled, trying to wipe down the table with too much soap. She grins when she sees you.

“I figured if I’m staying under your roof, I might as well work under your sky.”

You laugh, shake your head, and hand her the right rag.

She works beside you all day.

And for the first time in weeks, the ache in your chest feels a little lighter

The day is warmer than usual, and it feels like the city itself is taking a breath.

Karina works beside you at the cart, sleeves rolled up, hair tied loosely with a pen she swiped from your drawer. She’s completely in her element—wiping tables, handling cups, laughing awkwardly when people talk to her in quick Korean she barely understands. You translate in between servings, not that she needs it half the time—her eyes say more than words do.

You watch her fumble with the lid of the sauce bottle, her brows furrowing in pure concentration, tongue peeking out at the corner of her mouth. You want to laugh. You kind of want to take a picture, too.

“You’ve got tteokbokki on your cheek,” you murmur, leaning closer and gently wiping it with your sleeve.

She blinks up at you. “Oh. Thanks!” She doesn’t even blush. Just smiles like you handed her the weather report.

That’s when it starts.

An old customer—Mrs. Han, who always buys five sticks of fishcake and three for her dog—walks by and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? New assistant?” she teases. “Or is she your girlfriend?”

Karina looks up, mouth still full of rice cake. “Huh?”

You freeze. “She’s—uh—no, we’re not—”

Mrs. Han chuckles. “Ay, no need to explain. You two look sweet together. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding!”

She walks off cackling. Karina blinks again and turns to you. “Was that… a joke?”

You nod, fighting back a laugh. “Apparently, we’re dating now.”

“Oh! I didn’t even realize,” she says cheerfully, then pauses. “Wait—not like, us, I mean—like, she thinks—oh no.” She hides her face behind the rice cake ladle.

You laugh, for real this time. “Relax. It’s just an old lady being nosy.”

But it doesn’t stop there.

Later, one of the regulars asks if you’re “training your girlfriend for a new stall,” and Karina just waves and says, “I’m only here temporarily!” like that clears it up.

Another one tells you you’re lucky to have a pretty girlfriend who knows how to handle customers. Karina just bows, totally missing the context.

By the time a kid asks if you’re “married already,” you’re the one blushing.

“You know,” you mutter as you hand Karina a bottle of water, “you could at least deny it.”

“What? Why?” she asks, genuinely confused.

You look at her—hair a little messy, face flushed from the heat, smile soft and crooked—and you realize she has no idea how she’s being seen. Or how she’s slowly, quietly turning your world into something warmer.

“No reason,” you say, handing her a skewer. “Come on, future wife, we’ve got more orders.”

She snorts. “That one I understood.”

The cart is packed up. The customers are gone. The city’s slowed to a low hum—buses sighing past, lights flickering behind windows, and the occasional bark echoing from an alley somewhere down the block.

You and Karina sit on overturned crates beside the cart, sharing a cheap bottle of soju and a pack of half-stale chips you found in your cabinet. She makes a face after her first sip—scrunches her nose and shakes her head.

“God, that’s awful,” she mumbles.

You laugh. “You’ll get used to it.”

She stares at the bottle for a moment, then back at you. “Is that what you did? Got used to everything?”

You don’t answer right away. You’re not sure how. She doesn’t push.

“I didn’t really have a choice,” you say after a moment. “When my parents left, it was like… the whole world moved on without me. I waited for someone to notice. They didn’t.”

You take another sip. The burn is easier now.

“So I stopped waiting. Just started surviving.”

Karina looks at you carefully. The teasing is gone. Her smile too. All that’s left is something quieter—something closer.

“Do you still wait?” she asks softly.

You pause. Then shake your head. “Not really. But sometimes… when the day ends and it’s just me, I catch myself hoping. Like maybe someone’ll come back. Even if I know they won’t.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while. Just sips her drink, then glances up at the night sky like she’s reading a story only she understands.

“My sister used to say I was the careful one. The planner. The worrier,” she says. “But when she stopped answering… I didn’t even think. I just got on a plane.”

She laughs, but it’s hollow.

“I thought I’d feel brave. I don’t. I just feel stupid and scared.”

You lean a little closer, resting your arms on your knees. “You’re not stupid.”

She looks at you. Really looks. There’s something fragile in her expression—something she’s been trying to hold together this whole time.

“You’re the first person who didn’t treat me like I was asking for too much,” she says quietly. “You didn’t even know me.”

“I didn’t have to,” you say. “I saw you.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward—it’s full. Like something unspoken just passed between you and neither of you needs to name it.

Karina takes another sip, then smiles faintly.

“I think I like it here,” she says. “Not just the cart. Just… here. With you.”

You don’t trust yourself to answer right away. You just look at her, at the way the streetlight softens the tired lines under her eyes, at how something heavy seems to have lifted from her shoulders.

You raise the bottle between you both.

“To not being invisible anymore,” you say.

She clinks it with yours, soft and sure.

“To being seen,” she echoes.

And for the first time in a long time—for both of you—it feels like more than just words.

Morning creeps in quietly.

Sunlight seeps through the cracked blinds in slanted beams, painting gold across the cluttered floor of your apartment. The air smells faintly of fishcake and instant coffee, and you’re already halfway through brewing a pot when you hear the soft rustle of blankets behind you.

Karina sits up on the couch, her hair a little messy, her eyes squinting against the light. She blinks like she’s not quite sure where she is for a second, then sees you in the kitchen and relaxes.

“You always up this early?” she mumbles.

“Cart opens at ten,” you say, pouring two mismatched mugs. “We don’t sleep in luxury over here.”

She stretches, yawning. “Luxury is a roof. I’m good.”

You hand her a cup, and for a second, it’s almost normal. Just you and her, sitting side by side on the floor with coffee that’s too bitter and silence that’s soft instead of heavy.

But then her phone buzzes.

She stiffens.

You watch her reach for it with hesitant fingers. The screen is cracked, but the caller ID is clear.

EMBASSY LINE – UNKNOWN NUMBER

She hesitates. Looks at you.

You nod once. “Take it.”

She presses the phone to her ear, voice suddenly sharper, more awake. “Hello? Yes, this is Karina Yu—”

You don’t hear the other side of the conversation, just watch her face shift in slow, cautious layers.

From confusion.

To disbelief.

To something like hope—shaky, untrusting hope.

“You what?” she whispers. “You found a lead?”

You sit up straighter.

Her hand covers her mouth.

“Yes. Yes—I can come. Right now?” She glances at you, her eyes wide, heart clearly racing. “Okay. Okay, I’ll be there.”

She ends the call and just… sits there for a second.

“Karina?”

“They found someone,” she says. “A girl matching her description. She was brought in last night, but she didn’t have ID. She wouldn’t speak. But they think—” Her voice cracks. “They think it might be her.”

Your breath catches.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

She looks at you, eyes glassy and full. Then she nods.

“I don’t think I can do it alone.”

You’re already grabbing your jacket.

The embassy feels colder than it should. Not the air, but the walls. The silence. The way everything echoes.

You walk beside Karina without speaking. Her shoulders are tense, jaw clenched so tightly it’s a wonder she hasn’t cracked a tooth. She hasn’t let go of her phone since the call—like it might ring again and undo everything.

An officer leads you both into a small room. “She’s in the next room,” he says gently. “We’ll give you a moment.”

Karina nods, tight and shaky. She doesn’t look at you, just stares at the door. You want to reach for her hand, but you don’t. Not yet.

When the door opens, she steps in first.

There’s a girl sitting on a bench. Thin. Dirty. Her hair is long and tangled, head bowed so low you can barely see her face.

Karina’s breath catches. “Soyeon…?”

The girl looks up.

And everything stills.

It isn’t her.

She’s close. So painfully close. The same frame. Same hair. Even the same tired look in her eyes.

But it’s not Soyeon.

Karina doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” the officer says quietly behind her. “She matches the description, but there’s no ID, and she won’t speak. We thought—”

Karina steps back.

You catch her before she stumbles.

“It’s not her,” she whispers. “It’s not her.”

You guide her out of the room, your arm steady even when she isn’t. The hallway blurs at the edges. She presses a hand over her mouth, like if she opens it, she’ll fall apart completely.

You lead her back outside.

The sun is too bright. Too normal.

She sits on the steps and stares at the street. Doesn’t cry. Doesn’t say a word.

You sit beside her.

After a while, she speaks. “I really thought it was her.”

“I know,” you say.

“I let myself believe it. Just for a second.”

You nod, because what else is there?

Her voice cracks again, quieter this time. “I don’t know how many times I can do this.”

You finally reach for her hand.

She doesn’t pull away

It starts small.

You mention another flyer idea, one that could cover more ground, maybe tap into nearby train stations. She doesn’t respond.

You keep talking—trying to brainstorm—but she just stares out the window of your cramped apartment, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Eventually, you ask, “Karina? You okay?”

Her voice is flat. “I don’t need more flyers.”

You pause, unsure. “We haven’t tried the west district yet. Someone might’ve seen—”

“She’s not there,” she snaps. “She’s not anywhere, okay?”

You freeze.

Karina’s breath catches like she regrets it—but the words are already out, and you’re already stunned silent.

She turns around, eyes tired and sharp. “I can’t keep doing this. Waking up hoping. Pretending like you fixing my coffee and handing out flyers makes this better.”

You flinch. “I never said it did.”

“I’m dragging you down. You’ve already done more than anyone ever has and it still isn’t enough. I can’t ask you to keep wasting your life on mine.”

You’re quiet, and it hurts more than yelling.

She adds, softer, more broken now: “You’re too kind. You’ll stay even when you’re breaking. I can’t let you do that for me.”

“Karina,” you say, voice low. “You’re not a burden.”

She looks at you, tears threatening but never falling. “You don’t get it. I’m already too far gone. If I stay… I’ll ruin you too.”

And before you can reach for her—before you can tell her she already saved something in you—she’s out the door, leaving behind the blanket you lent her, the coffee you made, and the warmth she hadn’t let herself believe in.

Days pass.

The cart is still open, but slower. You move like you’re underwater. No Karina at your side. No quiet laugh when you burn the sauce. No second pair of hands to ease the ache in your wrists.

You start skipping meals. Telling yourself you’re too busy. Lying to yourself that you don’t care she’s gone.

You keep giving out food anyway—because if you’re not helping someone, what are you even for?

Then one night, she returns.

Karina’s coat is different. Her eyes sunken. She looks like she hasn’t slept. But she’s running.

Down the alley. Across the street. Her breath catching in her throat.

She sees you—slumped against your cart, hands trembling, face pale.

“Y/N?”

You turn your head slowly, but the world’s tilting. Your knees give way.

She catches you as you collapse.

“Y/N?!”

You try to speak—maybe her name—but everything’s heavy. Your arms. Your eyes.

“I’m here,” she says, voice shaking. “I’m here, okay? I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—I shouldn’t have left—”

You fall unconscious to the sound of her voice, breaking open in the night.

Your skin burns.

Not from the sun or the heat of the stove—but from something deeper. Fever, maybe. Maybe exhaustion, or hunger, or all three. You’re barely conscious, everything turning hazy, but you feel her voice—Karina’s—cutting through the noise.

“Y/N? Y/N—stay with me, okay? Just stay awake—please.”

Sirens blur. Then stop.

When you open your eyes again, you’re not in a hospital bed.

You’re in your apartment. The air smells faintly of instant soup and rubbing alcohol. The blanket you lent Karina before—she’s draped it over you.

You try to sit up.

She rushes to your side, hands gentle but firm. “No. Don’t.”

Your voice is cracked when it comes out. “Where…?”

“The hospital wouldn’t take you,” she says quietly, brushing sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. “No insurance. No next of kin. They gave me a thermometer and told me to watch your vitals at home.”

Her eyes are red, but dry. She’s past the point of crying.

You see the pharmacy bag on the table. Cheap fever medicine. Saline packets. Half a liter of lukewarm water and a can of peach juice she must’ve gotten from your stash.

“You shouldn’t’ve—”

“Don’t,” she cuts in gently. “I left you. You still called my name when you were falling.”

You try to smile, but it hurts.

She dabs a cold towel against your neck. Her hands are shaking.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she says. “I’ve been looking for my sister like she’s the only person who matters, and you’ve been right here, giving everything to everyone and leaving nothing for yourself.”

You try to speak again. She stops you.

“I’m staying,” she says. “I don’t care how scared I am. I’m not leaving you again.”

Your eyes flutter closed again.

But this time, her hand is wrapped around yours.

You’re still running a fever, wrapped in every blanket you own, but Karina hasn’t left your side. She sits cross-legged on the floor, chewing at her thumbnail, her other hand resting just inches from yours like she wants to reach out—but doesn’t know if she’s allowed.

“I fought with her,” she says suddenly. Her voice is small. “Before she disappeared.”

You blink through the haze and look at her.

“Soyeon,” she adds. “My sister.”

You wait.

“She wanted to take a gap year. I told her she was wasting her life. I screamed. She slammed the door. I thought she’d come back in an hour. Maybe two. She didn’t. The last message she sent was: You don’t get to control me anymore.” She laughs, but it sounds like it hurts. “I’ve been chasing her ever since.”

You slowly reach out, placing your weak, shaking fingers over hers. “You didn’t make her disappear.”

She flinches. Like she wants to believe it but doesn’t know how.

Before you can say more, there’s a knock at the door.

You think maybe it’s Mr. Park from next door or someone dropping off supplies. You’re not ready for who it really is.

Your father.

And his new wife.

He looks exactly like you remember—disappointed, sharp around the eyes, like nothing was ever enough. He scans the room, lips twisting.

“You’re still here?” he says. “Thought you’d have grown out of all this.”

You sit up slowly, your body screaming, heart heavier than your limbs. “What do you want?”

“Someone said you collapsed. I figured I’d check. You know, be a decent man.”

You want to laugh, but Karina’s still in the room, watching this unfold, her face frozen. Your father’s eyes fall on her.

“She yours?” he asks, like she’s a stray dog you let in. “She the reason you’re wasting yourself in this dump?”

“She’s the reason I’m still breathing,” you say, flatly.

He scoffs. “She looks like she belongs here. Pitiful.”

Karina lowers her head, shoulders folding in.

And that’s when something snaps in you.

You stand, ignoring the dizziness, and you yell—louder than you ever have.

The room goes still.

You step closer. “You left. You abandoned mom, and me. You built your new life and pretended we didn’t exist. And now you walk in here to insult the only person who didn’t leave me?”

His eyes narrow. “I came to help.”

“No, you came to judge,” you spit. “She stayed. She wiped my face when I was shaking. She held my hand when I couldn’t speak. What have you ever done for me?”

“I WILL NEVER BE THE COWARD OF A MAN YOU ARE.” Shouting with all the strength you have with you

Behind him, the new wife tugs at his sleeve. “Maybe we should—”

“Just Go,” you say coldly.

He doesn’t move.

You open the door wider, staring him down with the last strength you’ve got. “Leave.”

And when he’s gone, and the door clicks shut, you collapse against it, breath heaving.

Karina kneels beside you in seconds.

“I didn’t mean to be a burden,” she whispers, trembling. “I really thought I ruined things by staying.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t ruin anything. You saved me.”

She looks at you with glassy eyes, tears finally falling.

And this time, she doesn’t stop herself.

She wraps her arms around you, holding you close like she’s afraid to lose you next.

And this time, you let yourself be held.

The room’s quiet now.

You’re both on the floor, backs against the wall, your legs covered by the old blanket she kept tucking back around you even when you kicked it off in your sleep.

Karina’s arm brushes yours. She doesn’t say much. Just breathes beside you like she’s waiting. Like she knows something’s still stuck in your throat.

And you speak. Not because you’re ready—but because the silence feels like it’s holding its breath for you.

“You know what’s messed up?” you say, voice hoarse. “I don’t even hate them. My parents.”

She turns toward you.

You don’t meet her eyes.

“I used to. Thought about wishing them dead. Wondered if it’d feel easier that way. If grieving them would hurt less than being forgotten by them.”

You laugh. Quiet. Bitter.

“But… they didn’t die. They just left. My mom for someone richer. My dad for someone younger. They didn’t choose me. They chose comfort. Escape.”

Karina stays still. Listening.

You glance down at your hand—thin, pale, resting limply on your lap. You flex your fingers like you’re holding onto something invisible.

“I wouldn’t want to wish they were dead,” you say softly. “They’re just people. People who wanted to survive.”

Karina swallows, her breath hitching.

“I think that’s what we all do, in the end. We survive. Maybe that’s what being human is. You save yourself first. Even if it means leaving behind the ones who can’t.”

You finally look at her.

Her expression breaks your heart more than your words ever could.

“They left me,” you whisper. “Because they believed I’d sink slower than they would. Because I wasn’t worth saving first.”

She doesn’t speak. Just reaches out and cups your face with one trembling hand.

And you lean into it—not because you want comfort, but because you’ve forgotten what it feels like to be held like you matter.

She still has her hand on your face.

Your cheek is warm against her palm, the skin still slightly clammy from the last of the fever. But your eyes—they’re clear now. Raw. Honest in a way that scares you.

You wait for her to say something. Maybe shift away. Maybe pity you. But she doesn’t move.

Her thumb brushes beneath your eye.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says softly.

You don’t respond. You can’t. Your chest tightens at the sound of it—because you’ve heard so many people say things they don’t mean.

But Karina leans in a little closer. Her voice is low, trembling, but certain.

“I promise.”

Still, you flinch. “Don’t say things just to say them.”

“I’m not.” She exhales shakily. “I left once. And I hated myself the second I did. I thought pushing people away would make the pain easier. But I was wrong.”

You look at her—really look.

There’s no pity in her face. Just grief. And resolve.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone. To look around and feel like you’re the only one still searching, while everyone else already gave up. But I found someone who looked at me like I was worth waiting for.”

Her voice cracks—just once.

“I’m not leaving the person who saved me.”

She pulls her hand away, but not before squeezing yours.

It’s been a week since she promised to stay.

She meant it.

She’s back at the cart during the day—her sleeves rolled up, hair tied with the same pen she always forgets to return. She laughs more now. Smiles with her whole face. You still see the grief in her eyes sometimes, but it’s softened around the edges. Not gone—but quieter. Bearable.

At night, she sits by your window with her old phone, still cracked, fingers flying across the screen as she talks to every number that might lead her closer to her sister.

Right now, she’s on a call with the embassy again.

You watch from the kitchen—barely doing anything, just holding a mug of tea gone cold in your hands. She’s seated by the window, legs folded beneath her, her voice low but focused.

“No, I sent that document last Thursday—yes, I can resend it—but the lead in Incheon said the girl matched Soyeon’s age range, so please…”

A pause.

“Yes. I understand. Thank you.”

She ends the call.

You expect her to sigh or swear or shut down—but she doesn’t. She closes her eyes. Exhales slowly. Then picks up the next number.

And you just watch her.

Something clicks.

It’s not dramatic, not some thunderclap in your chest. It’s quieter than that.

It’s watching the way she’s never given up—not fully—not even when her hands shook, not even when she ran from you, not even when she found you on the ground and thought you might not wake up.

It’s the way she folds your blankets when she thinks you’re asleep. How she steals glances at you across the cart. How she takes her coffee now the same way you do—out of habit.

You’re falling in love with her.

Right here, in this tiny room with broken lightbulbs and steam-stained walls and two cracked cups between you.

You’re falling in love with the way she stayed.

The way she fought.

The way she’s still fighting, even when the world keeps saying no.

She looks up suddenly, meeting your eyes. “Sorry. That was the sixth dead end this week.”

You smile, soft. “You don’t need to apologize.”

She tilts her head. “You okay?”

You nod. You want to tell her. You want to say something huge and terrifying like I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, or I think I might be in love with you, but instead all you say is—

“Yeah. Just… I like seeing you here.”

Her expression softens.

“I like being here,” she replies, so casually it breaks your heart.

She doesn’t know you’re falling.

Or maybe she does.

But either way, you stay in that silence—her in the window, you on the floor—held together by hope and things unsaid.

And for now, that’s enough.

The cart is alive again.

Not in the loud, bustling way it was before—but in the slow, rebuilding kind of way. A couple regulars return. New faces peek in. Karina still trips over the fishcake tongs sometimes, but you swear she’s doing it on purpose now, just to hear you laugh.

It’s almost sunset when Mr. Park waddles by again, as he always does—grinning with his hands behind his back like he’s got something mischievous brewing.

“Well, well,” he says, eyeing the both of you. “The husband-and-wife team is still going strong, I see!”

Karina chokes on her drink.

You nearly drop a skewer.

Mr. Park just cackles, waving as he walks off. “Invite me to the wedding, alright?”

Karina’s still sputtering. “Wh–what did he just say?”

You smirk. “He thinks we’re married.”

She groans, covering her face with her sleeve. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, being married to me would be that bad?”

Her eyes peek over her sleeve. She’s flushed. “That’s not what I meant…”

You laugh, shaking your head, turning back to the pot. But something in your chest is burning—a warmth that lingers even after the teasing’s passed.

Later that night, you walk side by side under dim streetlights, the last of your earnings tucked away, the cart covered and tied down.

She’s quieter than usual.

You don’t press.

Until she says—softly, without looking at you—

“Sometimes I get scared when I feel happy.”

You turn to her.

She’s staring at the ground, hands stuffed in the oversized jacket she’s been borrowing from you all week.

“Like it’s temporary,” she murmurs. “Like it’s going to be taken away the second I let myself enjoy it.”

You say nothing. Not yet. You let her speak.

“I’ve been running for so long—looking for her, holding everything together. But here, with you… I forget, sometimes. I forget I’m supposed to be broken.”

You stop walking. She does too.

And this time, it’s you who reaches out—your fingers brushing against hers, then folding around them.

“You’re not broken,” you say. “You’re just tired of being alone.”

She looks up at you, and it’s different now. The closeness. The weight in the air. Her eyes flick to your mouth. Then your eyes. Then back again.

You lean in—just slightly. Not kissing her. Just close enough that she knows she can.

But she doesn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, she says, “I’m scared of falling.”

You smile. “Me too.”

You don’t kiss her that night.

But when you walk her back home, she doesn’t let go of your hand once.

You don’t say anything about your birthday.

But Karina finds the date written on the corner of an old receipt stuck to your fridge—“21st: cart closes early (Y/N bday)”—and suddenly she’s all movement and hushed plotting.

The cart closes early that afternoon.

She drags you to the park by the old river bend, balancing a small cake box in one hand and a half-wrapped plastic bag of yakitori skewers in the other.

You laugh. “You planned a whole feast?”

“It’s what I could afford,” she grins. “Well, technically you bought everything, but—I assembled it. With flair.”

You sit under a tree. She lights a single candle with a lighter that takes three tries. You pretend not to notice how the tip of her thumb turns pink.

The flame wavers in the breeze, and she gestures. “Make a wish.”

You look at her.

For once, you don’t wish for money. Or health. Or a better life.

You just close your eyes and wish, please don’t let her disappear again.

That Night

You’re fast asleep by the time the call comes.

Karina sits near the window, your blanket draped over her shoulders now. Your chest rises slowly from across the room—finally resting, finally safe. Her phone lights up beside her. The number’s familiar. She freezes.

She answers in a whisper. “Hello?”

“Miss Karina Yu?”

She straightens. “Yes?”

“We… we have her.”

Silence.

“Your sister,” the voice continues, cautious but clear. “She’s at a private shelter under a provisional name. She was admitted two nights ago after being picked up during a raid on illegal housing. There’s no ID—but the fingerprints match. It’s her.”

Karina doesn’t speak.

“Miss Yu?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it.

“How soon can you come?” they ask.

She glances across the room—sees you, sleeping in the dark, breath gentle, face finally peaceful.

Then back at the phone. Her throat closes.

“Tomorrow,” she says. “Tomorrow morning.”

The call ends.

She stares at the screen.

Fingers trembling.

She wipes her face, quickly, quietly.

It’s everything she wanted.

So why does it feel like something’s about to be ripped from her

The apartment is cold.

Too quiet.

You sit up slowly, blinking in the gray morning light—your head still fogged from sleep.

No kettle boiling.

No humming by the window.

No Karina.

Your heart drops before your mind can catch up. You call out her name, once, twice—nothing. She’s not here.

You stumble to the table.

There’s a note, hastily scribbled, your name at the top.

I’m sorry, Y/N. I have to go for a while.

—Karina

No details. No time. No warning.

Just gone.

You don’t hesitate.

You throw on your jacket—barely remembering to grab your wallet and phone. You sprint through morning traffic, breath catching in your throat. It’s raining lightly now, misty, like even the sky is holding back something worse.

You reach the terminal panting, sweat cold on your back.

And then—you see her.

At Gate 13. Suitcase by her side. Hair damp from the drizzle. Phone in one hand, passport in the other.

“Karina!”

She turns.

Eyes wide. Caught.

“Y/N—what—what are you doing here?”

“You left,” you say, breathless. “No goodbye. No nothing. Just a note?”

“I didn’t want to wake you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice cracks. “It’s my birthday, Karina.”

She falters.

You step closer. “You could’ve told me. I would’ve gone with you. I would’ve waited. I just—why did you leave like that?”

Something in her face changes.

Her walls fly up. Her shoulders square. Her voice hardens.

“Because I didn’t come here for you.”

You freeze.

“I came here to find my sister,” she says, voice sharp, shaking. “That’s why I stayed. That’s why I fought. That’s why I kept going.”

“I know,” you say. “I know that. But we—Karina, we had something.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t do this right now.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I was never here for love, Y/N!” she snaps, louder now. People glance. Her eyes shimmer but never spill. “I’m here for my sister. That’s all it’s ever been.”

You feel the air go still.

Your hands curl into fists.

She turns back toward the gate, throat working like she’s trying not to cry.

You call her name again.

She doesn’t look back.

And just like that—

She disappears into the crowd

You walk back and left the airport with nothing but yourself, you start with yourself you end with yourself, that’s life

“Ever since my parents left,

I’ve lived with the belief that I could overcome anything.

That pain had patterns.

That endings were not chaos, but nature.

I told myself everything eventually leaves.

That it’s the course of life—

an invisible tide pulling people in and out

like breath from a sleeping body.

And if you don’t learn to adapt,

you get left behind.

And when you get left behind,

you meet others like you—

the ones still chasing shadows,

still reaching for warmth that was never promised.

That’s where I found you.

Two strays beneath the current,

clinging to something that resembled stillness.

You smiled like someone pretending not to drown.

I offered you food I couldn’t afford to give.

You stayed in my broken apartment

and patched a hole I never realized had grown in my chest.

I thought—maybe this is what peace feels like.

Maybe I don’t have to chase the world anymore.

But you—

You were still learning to survive.

Still adapting to the same brutal nature I had already given up on.

You were built to keep going.

And when you finally adapted—

when the world cracked open and gave you your path back—

I caught myself still standing in the ruins.

Still behind.

Still small.

Still unchosen.

I watched you walk toward the future

with the same fire you used to warm me.

And I—

I stayed where the light used to be.

Because that’s what I know how to do.

Not adapt.

Not move.

Just wait for things to leave.

And learn to live with what remains”

[iskandersmuts]

"BlackedPink: Rosé’s Ultimate Betrayal"

Context: Rosé, the famous BLACKPINK idol, is in Los Angeles for the LACMA Art+Film Gala, where she shined as a global ambassador for Gucci. After the event, Jesse, a black music industry mogul, invites her to a private party at his mansion, where they discuss a possible collaboration. The arrival of Cali Sweets, Jesse's girlfriend, triggers a fight, and Rosé gives in to her BBC addiction, risking her career in an explicit betrayal.

Tags: black cock worship, idolxBBC, humiliated Rosé, pornfic, bbc kink, QOS, kpop slut, idol fuck, bbc degradation, submissive Rosé, fanfic +18, erotic stories, interracial sex, submission, dirty talk, black domination, marked idol, cumplay, whitening, filming kink

Rosé still felt the echoes of the camera flashes from the LACMA Art+Film Gala, where hours earlier she had shone like a vision of lust and power. The black Saint Laurent dress with floral prints clung to her body like a second skin—short enough to be an invitation to sin, yet precise enough to cover just the essentials. A delicious cruelty that made men drool and women grit their teeth in envy. The fabric hugged her small but firm breasts, the asymmetrical neckline revealing her delicate collarbone and bare shoulder, as if begging for a tongue to trace its path. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, and the sheer stockings let the texture of her skin peek through, the white stretch marks on her inner thighs glistening under the light—a secret few could see. Every step made the dress ride up another centimeter, nearly exposing the tiny black panties she wore underneath (or their absence, depending on the angle).

Her stiletto heels clicked against the floor like the crack of a whip, and Rosé’s narrow hips swayed with a practiced, almost hypnotic rhythm, her golden hair cascading loose, framing an angelic face that hid a soul hungry for destruction. At LACMA, she had been the center of attention—Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and E! News couldn’t stop talking about her, and fans flooded Twitter with photos and videos, comparing her look to other iconic appearances. But her gaze, direct and languid, said more than any headline: "I want to be fucked tonight, and I know exactly who’s going to do it."

Now, she stood in Jesse’s mansion—a Black music industry mogul who’d invited her to a private after-party. The place was a spectacle of excess: pulsing lights, heavy electronic beats, the scent of expensive whiskey and premium weed in the air. Celebrities and music elites mingled, but Rosé knew every eye was on her the moment she entered. She moved through the crowd like a feline among prey, the dress inching dangerously higher with each step, the sheer stockings slightly torn on her left thigh, revealing the sword tattoo near her groin—a mark of submission few here would recognize, but one that screamed to those who knew what to look for. She smiled, sweet and taunting, because she loved being desired, because she wanted to be claimed. Because tonight, she wasn’t BLACKPINK’s untouchable idol—she was a woman ready to surrender to the abyss.

On the other side of the room, Jesse watched her, holding a glass of whiskey, his muscular body gleaming under his half-unbuttoned black shirt. He was a real beast—tall, broad, with a presence that made the air around him feel heavier. Jesse’s dark eyes locked onto Rosé, trailing down her dress, her legs, the curve of her thighs, and he let out a low chuckle, a deep, predatory sound that made her shy clit throb beneath her panties. He knew exactly what she was—a Queen of Spades, a little white slut who lived to be dominated by men like him—and Rosé knew he knew.

"Rosé, from BLACKPINK, right?"

Jesse said, his gravelly voice cutting through the music as he stepped closer, each stride making the floor seem to tremble.

"I’ve been following your success… how about a collaboration? You were fucking fire at the LACMA today—shit, everyone’s talking about you."

Rosé blushed, her voice sweet and hesitant, but her eyes glinted with something darker.

"That would be amazing, Jesse… BLACKPINK is always open to new projects," she replied, though she could barely focus. The scent of his masculine sweat enveloped her, mixed with the whiskey in his hand, and she could feel her pussy growing wet, her slick arousal soaking through her panties, the acidic tang of spoiled lemon blending with her expensive perfume—a telltale sign she was nervous and fucking turned on. Her nipples hardened beneath the fabric of her dress, visible against the floral print, and she knew Jesse noticed because his grin widened, turning more dangerous.

"You’re a fucking vision… that dress is an invitation to bend you over right here," he said bluntly, his voice low and direct. He took another step closer, his body casting a shadow over Rosé’s delicate frame, and she felt her heart race, panic and lust warring inside her. She knew she was playing with fire—if anyone at the party saw her like this, if a video leaked, her career would be over. But that was exactly what made her want it more.

"Jesse, I—" Rosé started, but her voice faltered, her gaze dropping, her body already surrendering before he even touched her.

Rosé could feel the weight of Jesse’s gaze on her, as if he could strip her bare with his eyes right there in the middle of the crowded party. His comment about her dress—"an invitation to bend you over right here"—echoed in her mind, making her shy clit pulse harder beneath the tiny black panties, already drenched from the slick arousal trickling out. The sharp, spoiled-lemon scent that always surfaced when she was nervous and turned on mingled with her expensive perfume, and Rosé knew Jesse could smell it—he was the kind of man who could scent weakness, desire, submission.

"Let's go somewhere quieter, Rosé. We can't talk business with this loud music," Jesse said, his deep voice cutting through the thumping electronic beats echoing through the mansion. He didn’t wait for an answer—just placed his hand on her lower back, his large fingers grazing the curve of her waist through her dress, guiding her down a dimly lit hallway to a private room, far from the prying eyes of the party.

The room was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—a small space with dark walls, a black leather couch, and a glass table covered in whiskey bottles and overflowing ashtrays. The lighting was low, coming from a golden lamp in the corner, and the air felt heavier, thick with the scent of leather, alcohol, and something far more primal. Jesse sat on the couch, his legs spread as if he owned the entire world, his body radiating power as he gestured to the seat beside him.

"Sit here, princess. I want to hear more about BLACKPINK… and about you," he said, his tone laced with double meaning, his dark eyes locked onto hers before slowly trailing down the asymmetrical neckline of her dress, where her bare shoulder glowed under the light, her pale skin practically begging to be marked.

Rosé hesitated for a second, her heart racing, panic creeping up her spine. She knew she was stepping into a dangerous game—if anyone at the party saw her here alone with Jesse, if rumors spread, her career as an idol would be over. But the risk was exactly what made her come faster, what fed her self-destructive addiction. She sat beside him, her thighs pressed tightly together, her dress riding up dangerously, revealing more of her sheer stockings.

"So… you were talking about a collaboration," Rosé began, her voice sweet yet hesitant, trying to keep things professional as she clutched her phone with trembling hands. "BLACKPINK’s profits rose 15% this quarter, and we’re planning a new tour… It’d be amazing to work with someone like you."

Jesse chuckled low in his throat, a deep, predatory sound that made her nipples harden even more beneath the fabric of her dress, visible against the floral print. He leaned forward, taking the phone from her hand, his fingers deliberately brushing against hers, and glanced at the numbers on the screen—but Rosé knew he wasn’t the least bit interested in profits. He was interested in her—in the way her body trembled, in the way her eyes burned with desire and fear.

"15%, huh? Not bad for a little white princess like you," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and something darker. He tossed the phone onto the table and leaned in closer, his body now just inches from hers, his heat suffocating her. "But I’m not interested in numbers, Rosé. I wanna know… are you as pure as you look?"

Rosé swallowed hard, her face burning with shame, panic and lust warring inside her. She knew he saw her as some white slut who lived to be dominated by Black men like him. And fuck, that made her so goddamn wet.

"I… I don’t know what you’re talking about," she lied, her voice faltering, her eyes downcast—but her body betrayed her. Her pussy was soaked, slick arousal dripping through her panties and staining her stockings, the acidic tang of spoiled lemon now stronger, impossible to ignore.

Jesse laughed again, a sound that made her body tremble. He reached out, his thick fingers sliding up her thigh, beneath her dress, until they found the edge of her panties. Rosé arched her back, a low moan escaping her lips before she could stop herself.

"You don’t, huh?" Jesse mocked, his voice deep and full of contempt. "Then why are you moaning like a bitch in heat, huh? Why’s your cunt reeking of desperation, you little white slut? You think I don’t know what you are? A branded whore, just begging to get fucked by a Black cock like mine."

His words hit her like punches, each one making her pussy throb harder, her sensitive nipples aching from how hard they were. Rosé hated the words—"white slut," "branded whore"—but she loved what they did to her. Her heart shriveled in shame, but her body screamed for more, her addiction to humiliation and submission taking over.

"Jesse, stop… please," she whispered, her voice hoarse, almost pleading—but it wasn’t a real request for him to stop. It was a plea for him to keep going, to push further, to wreck her the way she needed to be wrecked.

"Stop?" Jesse laughed, his fingers now sliding higher, brushing over her black panties, feeling the wetness seeping through. He yanked her stocking hard, tearing it, then shoved his fingers beneath her panties, tracing the uneven lips of her pussy, the left side plumper, pulsing under his touch. "You don’t want me to stop, bitch. You want me to fuck you right here, don’t you? Want me to rip this princess dress off you and show you what a slut like you deserves."

Rosé moaned loudly, her body trembling, her eyes brimming with tears of shame and desire. She knew she was losing control—that every word from him pushed her deeper into the abyss she craved so badly. Her timid clit swelled, throbbing under his fingers, and Jesse laughed again, the sound echoing through the room as he kept teasing her, his fingers now probing deeper, feeling the resistance of her pelvic muscles.

"Fuck, you’re tight as hell… but I know you can take Black dick, can’t you?" he said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Bet you’re imagining it right now, you little slut. Am I right?"

Rosé didn’t answer—couldn’t. Her voice was trapped in her throat, choked by lust and panic.

"Say it, bitch," Jesse ordered, his voice harsher now, his fingers stopping their movement, leaving her teetering on the edge. "You want my Black dick splitting you open, don’t you? Say it, or I’ll throw you back to the party and let everyone see what kind of whore you really are."

Rosé choked back a sob, tears streaming down her face, her smudged lipstick betraying her as she finally gave in, her voice barely a whisper. "Y-yes… I want it… I want you to fuck me, Jesse… please…"

Jesse grinned, a predator’s smile that made her body shake even harder. He stood up, yanking her arm roughly, and Rosé nearly stumbled in her stilettos, her dress riding up higher, her torn stockings dangling from her thighs.

"Then come with me, my marked-up little slut," he said, his voice thick with promise and danger. "We’re going to my room… the one I share with Cali. I wanna fuck you in her bed—let her know you’re mine now."

Panic surged through Rosé again, but the need was stronger—so much stronger. She followed him, her heels clicking against the floor, her Saint Laurent dress now wrinkled and sweat-slicked, the sword tattoo on her hip glowing like a beacon for those who knew what to look for.

Rosé could barely keep her balance as Jesse dragged her by the arm, her stilettos catching on the mansion’s marble floors. The black Saint Laurent dress with its delicate floral print was crumpled and damp, creeping dangerously up her thighs. Her sheer stockings were torn, hanging loose from her legs, and the sword tattoo near her groin gleamed under the dim hallway lights—a symbol that seemed to scream what she was: a Queen of Spades, a branded slut ready to be used. Her heart pounded wildly, a suffocating mix of panic and lust as Jesse pulled her toward the bedroom he shared with Cali Sweets—the girlfriend he seemed ready to betray without a second thought.

"You’re about to learn what it really means to get fucked, you little white bitch," Jesse growled, his voice dark with promise, his eyes gleaming with malice as he swung open the private room’s door to step back into the mansion’s main hallway. But before they could take another step, the door to the living room burst open with a slam, and Cali Sweets, Jesse’s girlfriend, stormed in like a hurricane, her eyes blazing with fury.

Cali was a vision all on her own—a famous model, tall, with curves that made heads turn, her red dress clinging to her body like a second skin, her curly hair cascading over her shoulders. But right now, she looked feral, her eyes wide with rage as she saw Jesse gripping Rosé’s arm, her dress hiked up, revealing torn stockings, the sword tattoo on her thigh flashing like a silent confession.

"What the fuck, Jesse?!" Cali shrieked, her voice echoing through the mansion, drawing the attention of partygoers nearby. "You’re cheating on me with this Asian slut?! I knew you were no good, you piece of shit! And you—" She turned on Rosé, venom dripping from her words. "You famous little bitch, you think you can just waltz into my house and steal my man?!"

Rosé froze, her heart pounding, panic surging up her spine like an icy wave. Her face burned with shame, tears already welling in her eyes as she tried to pull free from Jesse’s grip—but he only tightened his hold, his fingers digging into her pale skin, leaving marks. The fear of being exposed, of having her perfect idol image shattered, choked her. Yet, at the same time, the danger had her dripping wet, her pussy throbbing, her slickness soaking through her panties and staining the torn stockings. The sharp, acidic scent of spoiled lemons—the one that always clung to her when she was nervous—was impossible to ignore now. And Rosé knew Cali could smell it. Knew everyone could.

"Relax, Cali, it’s not what you think," Jesse said, raising his free hand in surrender, but his tone wasn’t apologetic—it was annoyed at being interrupted. "We were just talking business, damn it. You’re making a scene over nothing."

"Business?!" Cali shrieked, stepping forward, her heels slamming against the floor, her face twisted in rage. "You think I’m stupid, Jesse? Look at this slut! Her dress is practically up her ass, her stockings are ripped, and you’re telling me it’s about business?! You’re fucking her, you bastard! And in my own house, no less!"

Rosé tried to speak, her voice trembling, barely audible as panic took over. "I-it’s not… not like that, I swear…" But the words died in her throat when Cali turned her glare on her, eyes full of contempt and hatred.

"Shut the fuck up, you Asian whore!" Cali spat, jabbing a finger in Rosé’s face, inches away. "Who the hell do you think you are, huh? Fucking BLACKPINK’s Rosé, all perfect, all untouchable, and you come here to ride my man?! You’re nothing but a cheap slut, you bitch! Bet your fans would love to know what kind of trash you really are!"

Cali’s words stabbed into Rosé like knives, each one making her heart shrink with shame, tears now streaming freely down her face, her smudged lipstick making her look even more wrecked as she tried to shrink into herself. But goddamn it, the words turned her on—the disdain, the humiliation, the thought of being exposed as a cheap slut made her pussy throb harder, her sensitive nipples aching under her dress from how hard they were. She was a mess, a walking contradiction—she hated what Cali was saying, but she loved what it did to her.

"Cali, cut this shit out!" Jesse roared, his deep voice booming through the room, finally letting go of Rosé’s arm to step between them. "You’re making a fucking fool of yourself in front of everyone! If you don’t believe me, then get the hell out and leave me alone!"

Cali laughed, a bitter, furious sound, her eyes glistening with angry tears. "Get out?! This is my house, you son of a bitch! But you know what? Fuck you, fuck her, fuck everything! You’re gonna regret this, Jesse! And you—" She pointed at Rosé, venom dripping from her words. "—you little slut, I hope your fans find out who you really are!" She grabbed her purse from the table, hurled a champagne flute to the ground—glass shattering loudly—and stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard the sound echoed through the mansion.

The silence that followed was suffocating—thick, charged with tension. A few partygoers who had stopped to watch the scene murmured among themselves, their curious, judgmental eyes locked on Rosé. She felt the weight of every gaze, panic swallowing her whole—if someone took a photo, if a video of the confrontation leaked, she was fucked. Her career as a BLACKPINK idol, her image as the perfect girl, all of it would go down the drain. But fuck, the risk only turned her on more, her body trembling with desire and fear, her pussy throbbing like never before, her shy clit swollen and sensitive, begging to be touched.

Jesse turned to her, his dark eyes glinting with a mix of irritation and lust, and Rosé saw he wasn’t the least bit sorry. He was hard—the bulge in his pants was proof, his cock straining against the fabric, ready to ruin her.

"Sorry about that, Rosé… Cali’s a jealous psycho," he said, his voice low, almost a growl, as he stepped closer again, his fingers skimming her arm before settling possessively on her waist. "But you know… she already thinks I’ve fucked you. So why not make it true?"

Rosé’s breath hitched, her face burning crimson, tears still streaking her smudged makeup. The panic was still there—Cali’s voice echoing in her head ("Hope your fans find out who you really are")—but the arousal was stronger, so much stronger. If she was already in trouble, what more could happen? She knew the risk—if Cali talked, if rumors spread, if those party guests started whispering, she was finished. But that was exactly what made her come faster, what fed her self-destructive hunger.

"Y-yes…" she whispered, voice hoarse and broken, eyes downcast, her body already surrendering before he even touched her. "Fuck me, Jesse… please…"

Jesse smirked, a predator’s grin that made her tremble harder. He yanked her against him, fingers digging into her waist, and dragged her down the hall toward the bedroom, ignoring the stares.

"You’re an obedient little slut, aren’t you?" he taunted, voice dripping with contempt and desire. "We’re going to the room I share with Cali. I wanna fuck you in her bed—let her know you’re mine now, you white-furred bitch."

Jesse shoved Rosé onto the bed with force, her fragile body bouncing against the black silk sheets, her dress riding up to her waist and revealing her soaked black panties, the torn stockings hanging like a broken web. The contrast was brutal—the Saint Laurent dress that had glittered under paparazzi flashes at the LACMA just hours ago was now a sweaty mess, the black floral lace stained with sweat and fluids, the asymmetrical neckline tearing as Jesse yanked at the fabric with his large hands, the sound of seams splitting echoing through the room like a muffled scream.

"Fuck, look at this little white slut… dressed like a princess on the red carpet but ready to get fucked like a bitch in my woman’s bed," Jesse growled, his voice deep and dripping with contempt, his dark eyes locked on the sword tattoo near her hip. He knelt between her legs, ripping her stockings with one sharp tug, the fabric snapping as it gave way, and licked the tattoo with his hot, rough tongue, the salt of her skin mixing with the acidic tang of her soaked pussy. "You’re a marked whore, aren’t you? A real Queen of Spades, ready to take black dick until you can’t fucking move."

Rosé arched her back, a ragged moan escaping her lips as his tongue dragged over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, the heat of his mouth making her shudder. Her pale pink nipples, already hard and aching, throbbed beneath the ruined dress, and she felt her small breasts crushed as Jesse tore the fabric away, the sound of ripping lace blending with her whimpers. "J-Jesse… please…" she whispered, voice broken, tears streaking her face, her smudged lipstick leaving her a wreck—but she didn’t know if she was begging him to stop or to ruin her further.

He laughed, low and cruel, and hooked his fingers into her black panties, stretching the fabric before shredding it, exposing her pussy with its uneven lips—the left side plumper, already dark and flushed with arousal, her slick glistening under the dim bedroom light. Jesse settled between her thighs, his muscular legs forcing hers wider, and pushed down his pants, freeing his huge, black cock—thick, veined, the swollen head looking too massive to fit inside her. Rosé choked just at the sight, panic clawing up her spine, but the need was stronger. She knew it would hurt, knew he’d split her open, and that was exactly what she craved.

"It’s gonna hurt, you stupid slut… but you love that, don’t you?" Jesse taunted, lining himself up and slamming into her without warning, without prep. Rosé screamed, teeth clenched, her body resisting like a spasming muscle, the pain tearing through her as he stretched her open, her asymmetrical lips forced to their limit, her shy clit pulsing with agony and pleasure. Blood mixed with her slick, a pale pink stain blooming on the Cali-made silk sheets, the scent of iron and sex thickening the air.

"F-fuck, Jesse, you’re splitting me—!" Rosé sobbed, eyes flooded, her fists twisting the sheets as she fought the pain. But her hips were already moving against him, addiction taking over, her body slowly molding to his cock, each thrust making her womb pulse like a dying heart.

Jesse laughed, the sound echoing through the room, and quickened his thrusts—his hips slamming against hers with brutal force, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with her ragged moans and his guttural growls. The mirror on the opposite wall reflected the scene: Rosé, BLACKPINK’s perfect idol, now a sweaty, fucked-out mess—her dress torn and hanging off her shoulders, her small breasts bouncing with every thrust, her pale pink nipples swollen and sensitive, her milky thighs marked by his large hands, the sword tattoo on her hip gleaming like a trophy of submission. And Jesse, a dark bull, dominating her completely, his cock driving in and out of her pussy with a brutality that made her body tremble.

"Yeah, take that black dick, you white bitch… You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to get fucked by men like me, to be a black dick slut," Jesse grunted, his words hitting her like punches, each one making her cunt throb harder, her timid clit swelling into a pearl-like bud, hypersensitive to every movement. He gripped her hips tighter, his nails digging into her skin, leaving red marks that contrasted starkly against her paleness, and yanked her blonde hair with his other hand, forcing her to look into the mirror. "Look at yourself, you fucking whore… Look at what you are now. A goddamn bitch in my woman’s bed, getting railed like a cheap slut."

Rosé stared at her reflection—tears streaming down her face, lipstick smeared, her blonde hair tangled and damp with sweat—and what she saw made her cum almost instantly. Not from pure pleasure, but from humiliation, surrender, destruction. She was a slut, a bitch, a Queen of Spades being used without mercy, and the mirror proved it: her wrecked expression, Jesse’s black cock buried deep inside her. The orgasm hit her silently, as it always did—her body shaking, fingers clawing at the sheets, rough gasps escaping her lips as her womb pulsed, watery fluids and blood trickling down her thighs, staining Cali’s sheets even further.

"Fuck, you came just from watching yourself get fucked, you disgusting slut," Jesse taunted, laughing darkly as he kept pounding into her, his cock stretching her tight pussy to the limit, her inner walls fluttering in spasms of pain and pleasure. He pinched her sensitive nipples between his fingers, the light touch making Rosé arch her back and scream, pain and pleasure blurring until she was dizzy. "These little tits are fucking delicious… So sensitive you scream from just a touch. Bet your fans would love to see you like this—all fucked out and crying on black dick."

His words made her cry harder, shame swallowing her whole—but the arousal was stronger. So much stronger. The room reeked of sex, the wet sounds of their fucking mixing with her whimpers, the heat of his body suffocating her, sweat dripping from his forehead onto her skin, the salt of it mingling with the tears she licked from her lips. She was lost. Completely surrendered. Her body was nothing but a toy for Jesse to use as he pleased.

Jesse suddenly stopped, pulling his cock out of her pussy with a wet schlick, pinkish fluid—a mix of blood, slick, and cum—dripping from her swollen folds onto the black silk sheets. Rosé whimpered in frustration, her body trembling, her cunt throbbing with emptiness, but before she could protest, Jesse flipped her onto her stomach in one rough motion. Her face pressed into the sheets, the scent of Cali’s expensive perfume still clinging to the fabric, now mingled with the musk of sex and sweat.

"You think we’re done, you bitch?" Jesse growled, malice dripping from his voice as he gripped her hips, yanking her ass up high. Her torn panties dangled from one thigh, the stockings now a shredded web around her ankles. He landed a sharp slap on her ass, the crack echoing through the room, her pale skin blooming red under his handprint. Rosé flinched—more from shock than pain—a low moan escaping her lips. "I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t take it anymore, you slut. And I’ll do it right here, in Cali’s bed, so she smells your cunt when she gets back."

He wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to choke her lightly, his thick fingers pressing into the sides of her neck. Rosé moaned louder, panic and arousal twisting together as her air thinned. The light strangulation sent waves of dizzying pleasure through her—just like her file described she loved—but terror soon overtook her, her heart hammering, body shaking as she fought for breath. Her moans came out muffled, desperate.

"That’s it, bitch… moan for me. Moan while I fuck you like the black dick slut you are," Jesse taunted, lining himself up and slamming back into her in one brutal thrust. His cock buried itself to the hilt, the swollen head battering her cervix, wrenching a scream from Rosé—a sound choked off by his grip. His shaft glistened with her fluids, streaked with blood and slick, every thrust producing a lewd, wet slap. The metallic tang of blood and the heady reek of sex filled the room.

Rosé came again, her body seizing violently, fingers clawing at the sheets. The orgasm ripped through her like white-hot agony, her uterus pulsing as if it might burst. The choking made her lightheaded, panic and pleasure blurring until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, her body surrendering completely to the invasion. Jesse kept pounding into her, his hips slamming against her ass, her skin reddening under his spanks. The sound of flesh hitting flesh mixed with her whimpers and his grunts.

"You’re mine now, you whore… my white bitch, my black cock slave," Jesse snarled, finally releasing her throat. She gasped for air, her face flushed, tears streaming unchecked, blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. With a final roar, he came, hot cum flooding her cunt until it overflowed, dripping down her thighs and staining Cali’s sheets even deeper. The room reeked of semen and sex, the proof of their debauchery inescapable.

Rosé lay there, panting, her body trembling—her pussy swollen and aching, her torn dress hanging off her shoulders, her stockings a mess, her face smeared with tears and smudged lipstick. She knew she had crossed a point of no return. Fucking in Cali’s bed, letting Jesse defile her like this, was more than just betrayal. It was a declaration of who she truly was: a Queen of Spades, a submissive bitch who lived to be used by men like Jesse, no matter the consequences.

Rosé gasped, her body shaking, sprawled face-down on Cali Sweets’ black silk sheets—now stained with a mix of blood, slick fluids, cum, and sweat. The Saint Laurent dress that had shimmered on the LACMA red carpet just hours earlier was now ruined—torn, crumpled, slipping off her shoulders, the black floral fabric dirty and clinging to her pale skin with sweat. Her sheer stockings hung in tatters around her ankles, and her tiny black thong, barely covering her pussy, was ripped and discarded on the floor alongside her strappy heels, which had slipped off during the brutal fuck. Her once-pristine blonde hair was tangled, stuck to her forehead with sweat, her smeared lipstick mixing with dried tears, her face a mess of shame and ecstasy.

Her pussy was swollen, her asymmetrical lips—the left side plumper—bruised and oversensitive, throbbing with pain and pleasure as Jesse’s warm cum dripped down her inner thighs, mixed with blood from the rough penetration. The room reeked of sex, iron, sweat, and Cali’s expensive perfume, still lingering in the air like a reminder of the defilement that had just taken place. Rosé could barely move, her body exhausted—her pale pink nipples swollen and sore from Jesse’s pinching, her thighs bruised from his grip, her ass red from the spanks he’d delivered while fucking her without mercy.

Jesse stood from the bed, his muscular body glistening with sweat, his cock still half-hard and glazed with her fluids under the dim bedroom light. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, that predatory grin returning as he looked down at Rosé—discarded like a broken doll, the spade tattoo on her hip gleaming like a trophy of submission.

"You think we’re done, you fucking bitch?" he growled, his voice dark with malice as he opened the camera app and started recording, the flash illuminating her wrecked body. "A slut like you needs to be documented, right? Let everyone see what BLACKPINK’s Rosé really is."

Jesse laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the room, sending another shudder through her body.

"That’s it, your little good-girl idol act is gone—now you’re just a black-dick slut," he said, his voice dripping with contempt and satisfaction as he kept recording, the phone capturing every angle of her—the cum dripping from her swollen pussy, the bruises on her thighs, her sensitive nipples, the sword tattoo that glistened like a confession. He leaned down again, his tongue licking over the tattoo, the salty taste of her skin mixed with cum and blood, and Rosé let out a low moan, her body trembling, her clit throbbing again, begging for more.

"If this leaks, you’re fucked, you little whore… but that’s what you want, isn’t it?" Jesse growled, his voice dark with malice as he played the video back for her on his phone—her face on the screen, filthy and humiliated, the sword tattoo gleaming, cum still dripping between her thighs. "You want the world to see who you really are… a submissive slut, a black-cock slave, a Queen of Spades who lives to get fucked until she can’t take it anymore."

Rosé didn’t answer, but her eyes said everything—panic and desire tangled in her gaze, her face burning with shame, her body quivering with ecstasy. She knew if that video got out, she was finished—her career, her image, everything she’d built as BLACKPINK’s sweetheart would be destroyed. But goddamn it, that was exactly what she wanted. The risk, the humiliation, the total surrender to a world where she was nothing but a submissive bitch for men like Jesse—that was what made her feel alive, what made her come harder, what dragged her deeper into the abyss.

Jesse tossed the phone onto the nightstand, the video still saved, and lay down beside her, his muscular body glistening with sweat, his cock still half-hard, slick with her fluids. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his chest, his heat suffocating her, the scent of male sweat and sex clinging to her skin.

"You’re mine now, my little white bitch," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction, his fingers tracing the sword tattoo on her hip. "And when Cali comes back, she’ll smell your pussy on her sheets… she’ll know you’re my whore, my slave."

Rosé stayed silent, her body exhausted, her mind a mess of guilt and euphoria. She knew she’d crossed a line with no return—fucking in Cali’s bed, letting Jesse record that video, surrendering so completely to her addiction to BBC—but it was exactly what she needed. She got off on the risk, the humiliation, the pain, and right now, sprawled across Cali’s sheets with Jesse’s cum still dripping from her, the sword tattoo shining like a brand of ownership, she’d never felt more alive.

[iskandersmuts]

A Gift in the Shadows

BINI Colet x male reader

(1,100+ words) Colet Vergara smut

This is a work of fantasy and fiction. None of the events and scenarios described are real or based on real-life situations. If you are sensitive to mature content or not comfortable with smut, please refrain from continuing.

Warning: Rape, Group Sex, Anal

Reader discretion is advised.

Background: You’re an illegitimate spoiled son of a wealthy famous politician but kept secret. His legitimate family and the public doesn’t know who you are but your father still takes care of you and provides everything you need.

It’s your 20th birthday and your father wanted to celebrate it by having an exclusive party. He asked if you want to have an artist perform on that day.

You immediately thought of BINI since you just started being a fan of them and they’re trending. Your father just nodded and told you to only invite your closest friends since he doesn’t want to make the party known to the public.

During the party, BINI gave a “surprise” performance. All of your friends got surprised and shouted as if they were avid fans of the group. You, on the other hand, already aware they’re going to perform at your party.

While BINI was performing, your father came up to you and said, “Sino gusto mo diyan?”

Confused, but you still answered, “Colet po, dad”.

Your father just tapped you on the chest and said, “Sige, ako na bahala”

An hour passed by and your father invited you to a private room. Inside, there’s a blindfolded woman sitting down on the floor with her hands tied together. However, you already knew who it was.

“Happy birthday, son. Ikaw na bahala sa kaniya. Balikan ka nalang namin after two hours. Baka hanapin ng management”, your father said while smirking

“Pa, baka kumalat ‘to”

“Just pleasure yourself, son. Ako na bahala. Balikan ko nalang kayo mamaya”

Your father and his bodyguards left you and Colet in the room alone. You can hear Colet trying to contain herself.

“Gawin mo na lahat gusto mo gawin sa akin, basta wag mo lang sasaktan yung ibang BINI”, Colet shouted

You removed her blindfold and saw her crying eyes.

Colet pleaded and said, “Please maawa ka”

You came in closer and grabbed her ass, “Relax ka lang, Colet. Okay rin pala yung puwet mo sa personal, noh?”

“Fuck you”, Colet replied

“Fuck me? Masyado ka naman excited.”, you replied with a smirk

Colet looks at you while you slowly took off your pants and underwear. She was shocked to see the size of your dick.

“Wala muna anger dito ha? Good girl ka muna”, then you put your dick closer to her face and said, “Kiss mo muna tite ko, bilis”

Colet had no choice but to follow. As soon as her lips touched your dick, you grabbed her cheeks and said, “That’s right. Just be a good girl”

“Virgin ka pa ba, Colet?”, you asked

“Tangina mo”, she replied

“Sungit mo naman. Sige na, enough with the small talk. Subo mo na yan”, you grabbed her jaw and top of her head as you guide your dick inside her mouth

Slowly and slowly your dick is reaching her throat all the way down. However, you couldn’t wait any longer and made her stop after a few minutes of oral sex

“Sayang yung oras. Humiga ka na. Show me your pussy, Colet”, then added, “or gusto mo ibang members yung nandito?”

Colet just followed, “Dahan dahan lang please. Masyado malaki tite mo. Baka hindi ko kayanin”

You just ignored her and forcefully inserted your dick inside her pussy.

Colet cursed in bisaya. You knew she got hurt. But you didn’t care. Only half-length of your dick went inside her pussy.

“Relax ka lang. Sasarap din yan”, trying to comfort Colet

You forced your way and was finally able to put the full-length of your dick after slowly pushing it inside her pussy deeper and deeper. You kissed Colet’s lips as your dick reached the untouched ends of her pussy. She tried to say something but you were unbothered and focused on simply using her as your fuck toy for the night.

You fucked Colet non-stop and tried different positions. All she could do was moan, cry, and shout for help.

While fucking her in a dog-style position, “Puta. Ang angas mo sa mga videos tapos ito ka ngayon, kinakantot kantot ka lang. Hahaha!”

You came inside her pussy without her permission, and Colet felt that. She got pissed and scared at the same time because she knew she wasn’t safe. As she was about to say something, you pushed her to the ground and tried to put your dick inside her mouth again. However, Colet just closed her mouth and tried her best to stop you.

“Tangina mo! Maawa ka, ayoko na!”, as she cried for help

Pissed. You just slapped her face and forced her to give you oral sex. While grabbing the back of her head, Colet was choking and grasping for air as your dick reaches her throat with every thrust. After one more thrust, you immediately removed your dick and came all over her face.

“Ayan, bastos kasi ng bibig mo”, as you slap her face with your dick

Still unsatisfied. You opened the door and shouted, “Guys, punta kayo dito bilis! Dito naman tayo mag party!”, inviting all five of your closest friends to share your “gift”

All of them were shocked to see a BINI member just helplessly lying there naked on the ground with cum marks on her face. They all asked you what’s going on.

“It’s a present from my dad. Gusto ko lahat tayo masaya so I decided to share my “present” with you guys. I’ve had my fun naman na”, as you said with a proudly tone

They didn’t waste any more time and fucked Colet simultaneously. They all took their turns and inserted their cocks inside her. Her holes were filled with both cum and piss - humiliating the BINI member in every way possible.

One of your friend, who’s not familiar BINI, asked while fucking Colet’s ass, “Pota, ito ba yung anger na sinasabi niyo? Hahaha kulang siguro sa kantot kaya palaging galit”

All of them laughed. One of them was even recording Colet getting fucked in the ass, while another one came in closer and suddenly puts his dick inside the ppop idol’s mouth. She had no choice but just to take it all in. Colet was being used as a fuck toy by 6 men, including yourself.

Two hours passed by and you heard a knock on the door. You immediately opened it and saw your dad, “How was it, son? Are you guys done?”, as he smiled

“Yes, dad. Thank you for the gift. Sobrang sarap”, you replied as you called out your friends. All of them thanked your dad one by one before leaving the room.

“Sige, anak. Mauna ka na. Mang Ronnie is waiting for you outside. Kami naman mag-eenjoy dito”, with 2 of his bodyguards laughing in the background.

[iskandersmuts]

The Haven in Heaven, ft. tripleS Sohyun

tags: creampie, first time anal, rough, (mention of) breeding

length: 8k+

author's note: Phew, finally. Now I can play Like A Dragon in peace.

---

“Still can’t believe this is real…”

Looking out the airplane’s window, Sohyun envelops his hand with hers, absentmindedly squeezing his fingers, her ears ringing from the altitude, a buzzing counterpoint to the quiet thrill thrumming through her. “Mrs. Han…” Sunwoo whispers, the new surname tasting sweet yet still unfamiliar. “You look a little tense. Just nerves, or are you secretly wishing for more legroom?” he teases gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. She offers a small smile, but he sees the slight worry in her eyes, even as excitement bubbles beneath. "It's just... a lot," she whispers, a happy sigh escaping. “We’re going to be okay, love. More than okay,” he adds, his whispered promise a joyful secret shared just between them. "I will always be here for you," he reaffirms, his gaze full of bright future.

Sohyun leans closer against him, looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes, hugging his arm tightly. "Thank you, oppa," Sohyun murmurs, pressing her face into his shoulder. "You always know what to say." Her voice is muffled, but her sincerity is unmistakable. Her words send a pleasant shiver down his spine—oh, to be thanked in such a sweet manner. As his eyes turn shiny at her heartfelt praise, Sunwoo plants a soft peck to the top of her head, right on the dividing line of her hair. “Thank you, love. Life with you has never been short of amazing.”

Sohyun shifts, tucking her head more comfortably into the curve of his shoulder. The hum of the engines becomes a backdrop to the quiet rhythm of their breathing. She feels the familiar strength of his arm around her, a steady presence that has seen her through everything. This new beginning, this incredible journey, feels right, simply because he is by her side. She closes her eyes, a small, contented smile playing on her lips. They are soaring, not just through the sky, but into a future built on trust, laughter, and love—lots of it.

A tiny, private giggle escapes her as she remembers Sunwoo's frantic, last-minute packing this morning, stuffing two left sandals into the same bag. Yes, a future with him means plenty of laughter. Yes, that sounds like a future worth diving into.

As the cabin speakers crackle with an announcement they barely register, Sohyun opens her eyes, a renewed spark of excitement replacing the earlier contentment. The plane banks, offering a first glimpse of the island below—a vibrant tapestry of emerald green and turquoise blue, fringed with white sands. She squeezes Sunwoo's hand, an unspoken question in her wide gaze. He meets her eyes, his own shining with anticipation. "Almost there, Mrs. Han," he whispers, a playful challenge in his tone. "Ready for our paradise?"

She turns to him, a beautiful, calm smile blossoming on her lips, her fingers tangled around his. “I am,” says Sohyun, no trace of lingering nerves on her face. “We’re going to have so much fun. I just know it.” A sense of warmth surges within Sunwoo; it’s so fulfilling to see her so happy, so excited for life, especially after the challenging months they've navigated, months that have tested their new, fragile marriage. “You’re right, love. We are going to have fun. Just you and me.”

The plane touches down with a gentle bump, a collective sigh of relief and excitement rippling through the cabin. Sohyun’s heart leaps, a joyous flutter mirroring the gentle descent. Through the window, the island comes into sharper focus, the palm trees swaying in a warm breeze she can almost feel. Sunwoo squeezes her hand again, his thumb tracing patterns on her knuckles. "Welcome to paradise, Mrs. Han," he murmurs, his voice thick with contentment. As the seatbelt sign dings off, a surge of eager passengers pushes toward the aisle, but Sohyun and Sunwoo linger, savoring this moment, a quiet bubble of happiness amidst the bustle.

Sohyun lifts her hand, gently cupping his chin, and leans in, her intention clear to Sunwoo. His arm, initially wrapped around her, pulls her closer, closing the gap between their bodies. As if stuck in time in their own little bubble, her lips meet his, a soft exploration that deepens into a shared breath. They stay connected, exchanging quiet promises to be each other’s unwavering strength, to love and be loved, until the end of time. Eventually, they pull away, but only because a stewardess, with a polite cough and a knowing smile, asks them to deplane.

-

The trip to their resort is a short one. How can it not feel brief, when their eyes get treated to the beauty of the Maldivian natural landscape. Every turn of the vehicle reveals a new masterpiece: water so clear it seems to vanish into the air, brilliant coral reefs visible just beneath the surface, and skies that stretch in an impossible gradient from soft azure to deep sapphire.  They exchange light, harmless pinches, asking for each other’s attention, at every enchanting view they catch. “Love, love, look at that,” he nearly leaps in his seat, his hand urgently finding her arm, “the sea, the clouds… so beautiful, no? It’s even more incredible in person.” Sohyun leans over, her gaze following his pointing finger, and a soft sigh escapes her. “Thank you for bringing me here, my love,” she whispers, her tone thick with gratitude and love for him. “You could’ve taken me to Jeju, but you’ve brought me to paradise instead.”

"Only the best for my wife," Sunwoo replies, his voice warm with satisfaction. Sohyun leans her head against his shoulder, letting the rhythmic hum of their transport and the gentle breeze wash over her. Their driver, a local man with a kind smile, points out a family of herons fishing gracefully in the shallows nearby, then indicates a row of vibrant hibiscus bushes lining the path. It’s these small, perfect details that make the journey feel like a dream, each turn revealing a new facet of the island's untouched beauty. Sohyun finds herself already falling in love with this place, not just for its stunning vistas, but for the peaceful simplicity it offers, a stark contrast to the busy city life they’re escaping from.

Moments later, the buggy pulls into a beautifully open-air reception lobby, where the air hums with quiet elegance and the distant splash of a water feature. They are greeted with warm smiles and soft-spoken welcomes. While Sunwoo handles the quick check-in process, Sohyun’s eyes are drawn to a glass-bottomed section of the floor, revealing schools of colorful fish darting beneath. The simple act of signing a few papers feels like the last official hurdle before true relaxation. A staff member hands them chilled towels and a welcome drink, the tangy sweetness of fresh fruit instantly refreshing. "This is it, love," Sunwoo murmurs, taking her hand and leading her to their accommodation. "Our actual escape begins now."

In the privacy of their overwater villa, its cool interior a welcome respite from the tropical warmth, Sohyun opens her suitcase. As if checking things off her mental checklist, her finger traces lines over the neatly folded swimsuits, the wide-brimmed hat, the sunscreens Sunwoo had insisted on. Her lips murmur the names under her breath, a quiet inventory.

“We have everything we need, don’t we?” Sunwoo asks, unzipping his suitcase next to her. “We’ll see.” She slips her hand under a pile of T-shirts, and a blush creeps up her cheeks; her fingers are brushing against a bag of contraceptives and pregnancy test kits. “Y-yes, I… I think we have everything we need, and then some,” she confirms, hiding her hot cheeks behind the curtain of her hair. Sunwoo catches the subtle shift, a knowing glint entering his eyes. “Good to hear, baby,” he teases, his face gleaming with mischief.

Sohyun rises to her feet, her gaze roaming the interior, looking at anything but her husband. “O-oppa…” she mutters, the loose thread at the hem of his shirt suddenly so captivating. “What, erm, what do you think we should do first?” With an amused smile, Sunwoo gets on his feet, his palms finding purchase on her waist, slightly digging into the soft flesh. A familiar warmth spreads from his touch, igniting a flush that reaches her ears. “I’m down for anything, baby. Sexual, non-sexual—just anything, as long as I’m with you,” he whispers, his lips brushing her temple, his tone calm and calming.

Sohyun finally lifts her gaze, meeting his eyes, and the last of her shyness melts away under his comforting warmth. A genuine smile blossoms on her face. “Then… can we…” she trails off, her finger pointing at the mattress covered in clean white sheets. “Sure, baby,” he confirms. With his hand joined with hers, Sunwoo guides her towards their destination—oh, these are some silky, impossibly soft sheets.

They settle in bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the mattress caving slightly under their weight. “Comfortable, love?” Sunwoo asks, keeping Sohyun close to him. She simply nods to his question; with her face sinking into his chest, a brief nod is enough. Looking over her, he notices a view she wouldn’t want to miss: the clear sea and blue sky, visible straight from the bed. “Baby, I think you should turn around. I think you’ll like the view,” he whispers. Following his suggestion, Sohyun shifts, turning around without leaving his comfortable embrace, gasping softly as the limitless expanse of turquoise, merging seamlessly with the cerulean sky, appears before her eyes.

Sohyun simply stares, mesmerized, the vibrant colors outside painting a living picture frame for their shared moment. She leans back against Sunwoo, nestling deeper into his side, his warmth a perfect contrast to the cool air of the villa. "It's... beautiful," she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Thank you, oppa. This is just… unbelievable.” Sunwoo tightens his arm around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "What I wouldn’t give for you, my heart," he murmurs back, his voice thick with contentment. For a long while, they lie in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by soft hums and giggles, soaking in the peace of being exactly where they're meant to be, together.

The peaceful silence stretches, filled with unspoken tenderness. Sohyun’s fingers, still idly tracing patterns on the back of Sunwoo's hand, drift slowly upwards along his arm. She feels the warmth of his skin. The gentle sway of the water beneath their villa, combined with their close proximity, ignites a different kind of heat within her. She feels his intense gaze, a palpable weight on the back of her head, a type of intensity that sears, as if his eyes could ignite her skin. When she finally looks behind, the playfulness in his eyes has deepened, mixed now with a tender longing. He leans down, not for her forehead this time, but for her lips, a slow, deliberate approach that promises a new kind of paradise.

The cool air of the villa now feels insignificant against the heat building between them. When he pulls back slightly, his eyes never leave hers, a silent question passing between them. Sohyun’s heart hammers a joyous rhythm, and she presses closer; her answer is clear in the way she presses her lips to his once more, a soft, affirmative gesture. “Come on, my heart,” he urges, his breath hot against her face. “Let’s not waste any more time.” She nods, already reaching for the hem of his shirt, while he reaches for the waistband of her skirt.

The soft rustle of clothes sliding to the floor is the only sound apart from their quickening breaths. Sunwoo’s hands glide over Sohyun’s skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He lifts her slightly, positioning her more comfortably beneath him on the yielding mattress. Through the large window, the setting sun casts a fiery orange glow across the water, painting their skin in warm hues, but it's the internal fire that consumes them now.

“Take me…”

Her soft, whispered words send his heart into overdrive, each deep pulse rippling through his body. Sunwoo leans down, his head invading the crook of her neck. “You’re mine,” he growls, the possessiveness in his voice searing her ear. “You’re mine and only mine.” Swallowing a gulp that is stuck in her throat, Sohyun nods, her heart bumping in her chest under the pressure of his firm torso. “Y-yes. I-I’m yours, oppa…”

Sunwoo slides his hips forwards, but her sudden pinch on his arm stops him right away. “O-oppa…” she whispers, her eyes searching for signs of annoyance or perhaps anger on his face. “I… I’m sorry, but can we take this slow—just this round, I promise.”  With a soft smile playing on his lips, he nods, stroking her cheek softly, his thumb gliding on her face, just below her eye. “Of course, my love. Let’s do it like it’s our first time again,” he confirms. His features soften completely, a profound tenderness in his gaze, radiant with sincere, unconditional love and care for her.

Sunwoo leans down once more, placing a peck on her forehead and the bridge of her nose, soothing any lingering apprehension. “Like it’s our first time…” she repeats in a whisper, the memory of their first night together flashing in her mind. “I was scared, oppa, but you were patient—very patient,” she continues, her eyelids slowly closing, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips. A soft, almost disbelieving chuckle escapes him; never had Sunwoo known he had that level of patience, but Sohyun truly brought the best out of him.

Momentarily lifting her head off the pillow, Sohyun offers a quick, urgent peck to his cheek, the stubble sending small electric jolts through her body. “Let’s do it, oppa. I won’t bleed like that time, but you know I would if I could.” Without a word, Sunwoo moves, guiding his member towards her core, both exhaling sharply as his tip brushes against her intimate folds. “Come on—oh, God, yes…”

He hesitates for only a breath, allowing her words and the significant memory of their first night to settle between them. Then, with a slow, deliberate push, Sunwoo eases into her, a soft groan escaping his throat as her body stretches to accommodate him. Sohyun gasps, a sharp intake of air, her nails lightly digging into his shoulders.

“Claim me all over again, oppa.”

“I’m yours, my love.”

“Yes, just like that, baby.”

“I love you.”

Their whispered words of passion mingle in the air, joining her soft moans and his deep groans. The pace, relaxed and unhurried as it is, feels comfortable and appropriate, a dear reminder of their precious memory of lost innocence.

He begins to move faster, establishing a deliberate rhythm that offsets the quiet, deep pulse of the ocean beneath their villa. Each thrust is a sweet rediscovery, each familiar curve and plane of her body a landscape he knows by heart yet feels brand new. It's a profound journey back to a cherished beginning. Sohyun’s breath hitches with every measured retreat and advance, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer still.

“Oppa…” she mutters, her deep voice soft in his ear. “I’m… I’m grateful for you—oh, yes, that’s good…” Sunwoo’s peck lands on her lips, a wave of tenderness washing over him, the warmth in his heart growing along his arousal. “More than you know, baby,” he murmurs, groaning slightly. “God, you’re so hot, so good.”

Sohyun lifts her hips, meeting his deep thrusts at a better angle. “Come on, oppa. Harder,” she urges, lost completely in the exquisite friction, with only him and this sensation in her mind. Planting his knees into the mattress, Sunwoo picks up the pace, his hands gripping down on her wrists. As the pace grows, so do her moans, the sound filling their bedroom—no one better be staying in the next room.

The rhythm builds, a frantic, accelerating drumbeat that consumes them both. Sohyun’s body tightens around his, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as the pressure inside her coils tighter and tighter. Sunwoo’s grunts become ragged, his eyes fixed on hers, a silent, desperate plea for release. Then, with a shuddering cry from Sohyun and a deep, guttural roar from Sunwoo, they shatter, exploding into a shared, overwhelming wave of pure ecstasy. He collapses onto her, heavy and spent, their skin slick with sweat, the only sounds now their ragged breaths slowly calming in the quiet hum of the villa.

With the last bit of energy she has, Sohyun locks her ankles behind his back, keeping him lodged snugly in her core. “That’s new,” Sunwoo teases, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Trying to get pregnant?” Chuckling, she lightly smacks him on the back, hiding her genuine interest in carrying his child behind the gesture. “Just savoring the warmth,” she dodges. “Sure, baby. Just savoring the warmth,” he whispers back, a smile now fully present on his lips.

After a few more minutes of blissful silence, Sunwoo stirs, gently disentangling himself. “How about a shower, my love?” he suggests, his voice still thick with recent passion. “Then, we can head out. Maybe take a little walk or hang out at the entertainment area.” Sohyun stretches, a soft groan of contentment escaping her, her body feeling pleasantly heavy and relaxed. "Sounds good, oppa," she agrees, slowly sitting up, the glow of their shared intimacy still radiating from them both as they begin to gather their wits for the next phase of their paradise.

After the relaxed, laughter-filled shower, their skin still prickling with warmth from the steaming water and shared giggles, the pair heads to the entertainment area, their fingers tangled together in a warmth that mimics the setting sun. Sohyun’s eyes widen at the sight of an arrangement of musical instruments, and she bounces slightly on her toes, tugging his hand as excitement bubbles in her chest. “Oppa, oppa,” she frantically calls to him. “Can we sing to each other—you know, like that time?” She looks at him from the side as a smile spread on his lips, the corner of his eyes creasing. “Yeah, we sure can. I have some songs I’d like to sing to you,” he agrees.

With the exciting thought of being sung to in her mind, Sohyun nearly tumbles onto the sofa, her butt landing on the cushion with a soft bounce, a joyful jolt going through her. “Come on, come on!” she urges, already so eager to listen to what he has in store for her. Chuckling slightly, Sunwoo heads to the mic on a stand, grabbing a guitar from the nearby stand on his way. He flicks the small switch on the side and taps the head a few times. A soft pop echoes from the speakers. “Is this thing on?” he murmurs, his voice amplified and clear, coming out in confirmation.

Oh, I hope you know I will carry you home, Whether it’s tonight or fifty-five years down the road. Oh, I know there’s so many ways that this could go. Don’t want you to wonder, darlin’, I need you to know.

The soft, almost whispered opening sends a shiver down her spine. Not because this is a hit song, no—this is about the promise of staying together through the ups and downs, a melody echoing the quiet fears she sometimes harbors and the unwavering hope he always brings. When he flashes her a smile, a silent affirmation of every lyric, a soft gasp escapes her, her vision getting blurry by the unshed tears threatening to spill out.

We were talking to the sunset. Throwin’ dreams against the wall. I know none of them have stuck yet, But I bet it on you, honey. Oh, I would risk it all.

Sunwoo stops to take a breath, his heart racing as he prepares for the chorus. Flashing the teary woman another smile, he returns his wit back to the song, his fingers ready to strike the chords and shake her heart, perhaps also the walls.

These days, these nights are changing. Mama, my mind is set on you. I’m not afraid to say it, to say it’s true. Oh, I hope you know I will carry you home, Whether it’s tonight or fifty-five years down the road. Oh, I know there’s so many ways that this could go. Don’t want you to wonder, darlin’, I need you to know, In this and every life, I choose us every time.

Sohyun can only look at him as the song continues. No, this is not just a song. This is his heart laid bare before her in such a beautiful, private display. Her tears finally spill over, leaving wet trails down her cheeks. He continues to sing, his own eyes growing shiny with emotion, the raw honesty of the moment filling the space between them. The guitar chords resonate deeply, each strum echoing the earnest beat of his heart. By the time the last notes fade, a profound silence falls, thick with unshed tears and an overwhelming sense of love that needs no further words.

His gaze leaves her, drifting to the side, and a hint of a proud, playful smile touches his lips as if acknowledging someone else’s presence. A sharp gasp flies out of her lips when she sees what's up: a dozen pairs of eyes, soft with admiration, meet hers from the dimness behind the sofa. There’s a crowd, watching Sunwoo sing his heart out. “My wife,” Sunwoo says, introducing her to the crowd with a proud smile on his face. “We’re having a honeymoon here.” Covering her mouth, Sohyun offers some polite nods while desperately trying to blink her tears back. “You have a good husband,” an elderly woman says to Sohyun, her thick European accent adding more warmth to the praise.

Sohyun offers another rapid series of bows and nods, her face burning, desperately wishing the sofa had a trapdoor. Sunwoo, however, is beaming, reveling in her discomfort and the admiration of their impromptu audience. He presses a quick kiss to her forehead. "Come on, love," he whispers playfully, his arm gently guiding her up from the sofa. "Let's find some dinner before they ask for an encore." He leads her away from the admiring gazes, her hand still tangled in his, their shared laughter echoing softly through the lounge.

Sunwoo leads her through the resort’s gently lit pathways, the scent of grilled seafood thick in the evening air. Sohyun, still giggling softly, occasionally glances back, half-expecting applause, before turning her attention fully to him. They find a table at the quiet, open-air restaurant overlooking the ocean. She sits next to him, cradling his hands in her lap, stroking them gently.

“Thank you, oppa,” she whispers, her gaze drifting to the distant waves in the sea. “You’re welcome, my love,” he whispers back, pulling her closer. “You liked the song, didn’t you?” With a chuckle, Sohyun pinches his wrist lightly, her eyes turning shiny again. “I did, but what do you think will happen in 55 years?” Sunwoo sighs, the smile on his lips fading, caught off guard by her question. “I don’t know, honestly, but whatever it is… I hope I’ll still be with you.”

Sohyun tightens her grip on his hands, a sense of quiet comfort settling over her at his honest vulnerability. "Me too, oppa," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "I hope we'll be those old people… still bickering playfully, still holding hands as we watch the sunset, just like this." Sunwoo's smile slowly returns, a tender, wistful expression. "That sounds like a future worth fighting for, my heart.” He lifts her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Now, why don’t we get some food in our belly, hm?”

-

The pair heads out of the restaurant hand in hand, fingers tangled tightly, their faces bright with contentment of the moment they are sharing. As they walk through the entertainment area once more, a familiar flutter rises within Sohyun, the fresh memory of being sung to coming back in a rush, turning her cheeks warm. “You alright, love?” Sunwoo catches on to her sudden change of attitude. Biting her lips, she nods, only able to lift her gaze as high as his lips. “Yeah,” she mutters. “Just… still getting the butterflies, right here," she whispers, pressing his hand against her chest.

Sunwoo’s smile is gentle, understanding. He stops their walk, turning fully to face her, his hands coming up to cup her face softly. "Even after all this time?" he teases, but his eyes are serious, full of adoration. Sohyun leans into his touch, her own smile blooming. "Especially now," she whispers. They stand there for a moment, simply holding each other's gaze, the soft glow of the lanterns casting long shadows around them. A few resort guests walk past, offering soft smiles, sensing the quiet, profound bubble of intimacy that surrounds the newlyweds.

“Let me sing for you, oppa. Let me show you just how much you mean to me.” Her spoken intent sends a shiver down his spine. Knowing Sohyun, she’ll pick a song with tender lyrics and pour her heart into singing it, possibly leaving Sunwoo in a wet-eyed mess. "Go on, then,” he slowly pushes her to the piano, the sleek, dark wood gleaming under the soft lights, his breath already getting shaky. “Sing for me and make me cry.”

Settling on the same cushion she sat on, Sunwoo looks at her intently, his eyes turning glassy simply from the anticipation in his chest. He takes a few deep, shaky breaths, his chest rising and falling visibly, as Sohyun starts pressing different keys, filling the room with soft notes. “Are we ready?” she teases, not looking at her husband initially. Turning her head towards him, she finds his eyes, and recognizes the raw vulnerability shining in their depths, signs of sincere emotions clear for her to see. “Ah, I think we are.”

Maybe it’s the way you say my name. Maybe it’s the way you play your game. But it’s so good, I’ve never known anybody like you. But it’s so good, I’ve never dreamed of nobody like you. And I’ve heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime. And I’m pretty sure that you are that love of mine.

Sohyun closes her eyes, tears slipping through the lids and flowing down her cheeks. She’s sung this song to a man who once held her heart, but to finally sing this song again, after this many years, for this man who holds her heart now and forevermore, feels… heavier.

‘Cause I’m in a field of dandelions, Wishing on every one that you’d be mine, mine. And I see forever in your eyes. I feel okay when I see you smile, smile. Wishing on dandelions all of the time. Praying to God that one day you’ll be mine.

Fighting through the flood of tears, Sohyun plays on, the melody weaving through the air, her voice clear. Her eyes remain closed, lost in emotion, pouring her entire heart into every note, every word. This very song, sung in this precise moment, in this exact paradise, feels like a culmination of everything they've been through, everything they are, and everything they hope to be. Sunwoo, utterly captivated, feels a lump in his throat, unable to speak, only able to witness this raw, beautiful outpouring of her soul through his wet eyes.

Dandelion, into the wind you go. Won’t you let my darling know? Dandelion, into the wind you go. Won’t you let my darling know that, I’m in a field of dandelions, Wishing on every one that you’d be mine, mine. Oh, and I see forever in your eyes. I feel okay when I see you smile, smile. Wishing on dandelions all of the time. Praying to God that one day you’ll be mine. Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time. I’m in a field of dandelions, Wishing on every one that you’d be mine, mine.

Sohyun continues to pour her heart into the final chorus, her voice a raw, beautiful testament to her love, the words hanging in the air like a sacred vow. When the last, lingering note of the piano finally fades into the quiet evening, the silence that follows is profound, broken only by the soft, rhythmic lapping of the ocean waves outside. Sohyun keeps her eyes closed, still lost in the afterglow of emotion. Sunwoo, still unable to speak, pushes himself from the sofa and walks to her, gently kneeling next to her, his own tears finally tracking paths down his cheeks as he reaches out to cup her face.

Sunwoo's thumbs gently wipe away her tears, his touch tender, reverent. "My love," he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion, barely a whisper. "My beautiful, beautiful Sohyun." She leans into his hands, her own gripping his wrists, feeling the strong pulse beneath her fingers. "I’m yours," she whispers back, her voice still hoarse from the song and tears. "Always yours." His lips find hers then, a soft, tear-salted kiss that speaks not of passion, but of profound understanding, of promises kept and futures secured.

For a long moment, they remain like that, intertwined in the quiet hum of the villa, the gentle lapping of the ocean a distant, soothing rhythm. Sunwoo's hands cup her face, his gaze holding hers, a universe of unspoken words passing between them. Sohyun feels a sense of complete peace settling over her, a deep, warm contentment that fills every cell of her being. Finally, Sunwoo gently helps her to her feet. "Let's head back, my heart," he whispers, his voice still a little husky. "And just… bask in this feeling." Hand in hand, they walk slowly, the resort lights blurring around them as they head to their haven in heaven.

-

Sohyun grabs his hand and pulls with surprising strength, dragging Sunwoo to bed, her tears replaced with a calm, serenade smile. “Oppa,” she calls, her voice gaining a playful edge. “Did you like the song? You liked the song, right?” Nodding, he offers a peck to her lips. Fleeting it may be, but that doesn’t take anything away from the gesture. “I did. I’ve always liked listening to you singing,” he assures, squeezing her arm lightly. “It was a beautiful song too.”

“A beautiful song, sung by a beautiful woman,” she muses, locking eyes with him. “How about I give you some beautiful children?” Swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, Sunwoo maintains his calm demeanor, but it would be a blatant lie to say he doesn’t want to have children with her. “Children, love? This soon?” he asks, his eyes searching for mischief in hers but only finding honesty. “Yes, children. Plural.”

While Sunwoo’s grip on her wrist tightens, his gaze softens, moving from her eyes to her lips, then sweeping across her face, scanning for any sign of doubt one last time. Finding none, he sighs, a sound of profound delight. "You think we can have twins?" he teases gently, his thumb caressing her cheek. Sohyun giggles, leaning into his touch. "I mean, maybe we can? You’ll never know if you never try."

Feeling a sudden surge of strength, Sunwoo climbs on top of her, his breathing growing quicker as his arousal level rises. “Oh, we will try, sweetheart,” he growls, his face hovering dangerously close over hers. “Yeah? How many times will we try?” she counters, a hint of playful rebellion woven in her voice. “As many times as we can, until one of us passes out.” Sohyun nods, agreeing to indulge him in this attempt to not only conceive, but conceive twins. “Alright,” she takes a deep breath to steady herself, “let’s do it, oppa.”

Sohyun undoes the three buttons of her cardigan, exposing the white undergarment that barely contains her plentiful bosoms. “These,” she palms her breasts, her fingers digging into the flesh, “these will feed our twins, oppa.” Sunwoo bites his lip slightly, his eyes turning dark with desire. “But can they feed me first?” he quips, but lust is clear in his tone. She smirks, infected by his arousal. “Why don’t we see for ourselves, hm?”

Grabbing the hem of the undergarment, Sohyun tries to lift it over her head, but Sunwoo manages to tear it down the middle first, the intrusive sound slicing through the evening air. “Oh my God, oppa…” she mutters, her heart racing at his action. “You’re crazy…” With a chuckle, he pecks her on the lips, pulling away with a naughty smirk on his face. “I am. I’m crazy for you.”

Sohyun laughs breathlessly, a wild, delighted sound that echoes in the villa. "Crazy for me, huh?" she whispers in a deep voice, her hands reaching up to cup his face, pulling him down for a deep, searing kiss. Her fingers, still tingling from the shock of the torn garment, now eagerly explore the bare skin of his neck and shoulders. "Well, oppa," she murmurs against his lips, her voice laced with challenge. "If you're that crazy for me, then make me pregnant." Her body presses against his, urging him onward, ready to be consumed by his passion.

He doesn’t say anything back, going straight to claiming her lips in a searing kiss. As Sunwoo gropes her tits, Sohyun places her hands over his, egging him on to keep going, to keep playing with her assets. Her moans, released into the kiss, entice him even more, pulling him deeper into the temptation of lust. “I’m going to be sore all over,” she quickly thinks, already seeing the outcome before even starting.

Eventually, Sunwoo pulls away from the kiss, registering Sohyun’s flushed, breathless face right away. “Heh,” he chuckles lightly, “I can’t tell if you’re tired or aroused—surely you’re not tired already, are you?” She chuckles back, shaking her head as both an answer and a gesture of amusement. “Not tired, no,” she says. “But still, I need some air.”

Giving her some breathing room, Sunwoo gets off the bed, giving her a quick peck to the lips before leaving to grab a bottle of water for the post-coital care. When he returns, Sohyun has already taken everything off, the torn garment joining its friends on the floor. Lying on her belly, she wiggles her plump rear from side to side, urging him to come and take her. She really knows how to tempt him.

Sunwoo grips the bottle harder at the alluring sight before him, a physical testament to his attempt at maintaining grip on his self-control. “Look at you, oppa. So tense and horny, like you can’t wait to put your child in me—no, seriously, look at yourself in the mirror.” Following her finger, Sunwoo spots himself in the mirror: straight posture, erect manhood—the man is indeed tense and horny. “It’s just the things you do to me, baby girl,” he mutters, his voice a low groan. “Just the things you do to me.”

Placing the bottle on the bedside table, Sunwoo comes in for a kiss, his fingers landing on her back, just below her nape. “Love, hey,” he begins, finding clarity of mind amidst the storm of desire. “I know we’ve been teasing each other about getting pregnant and all that, but know that if we don’t conceive tonight, I will hold nothing against you.” His hand moves up, gently pressing down on her nape, as if soothing some frayed nerve endings. “After all, getting pregnant is a two-person dance, isn’t it?” Sohyun smiles, content with both his words and his tender ministration. “Yes, it is, and I really want to dance with you.”

Climbing onto bed, Sunwoo mounts her thighs, his knees sinking into the mattress. “Let’s dance, my love,” he murmurs, his steady voice carrying promise of a pleasurable time. With one hand around his member, he slides himself into her waiting, willing core, his breath taken away by her warmth. “Oh, baby…” he mumbles, his eyes fluttering as he moves his hips back and forth, testing the shared position. “You’re so hot, so good…”

Sohyun closes her eyes, a sigh of bliss escaping her lips as he settles into her. Resting her chin on her pillow, she lets out soft, whispered moans, loud enough for his ears but not for the next-door tenants. “Only you deserve to get me pregnant, my love.” Different iterations of this thought fill her mind, each one unspoken testament to her devotion to him and their shared journey.

She can only obey when Sunwoo pulls her hips up, instinctively supporting the rest of her body with her arms. “N-nothing too rough, please,” she begs, looking at him over her shoulder with pleading eyes. “I’ll try not to—just hang on, baby,” he replies simply. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Sohyun grips the sheets hard, bracing for the impact his hips are about to deliver. “I… I’m ready.”

Sohyun's breath hitches as he moves, not with the explosive force she braced for, but with a deep, consuming pressure that is both intense and exquisitely controlled. “He listens,” she thinks briefly. A wave of tenderness washes over her, mingling with the rising tide of pure sensation. This is their dance: his strength meeting her vulnerability, his control meeting her trust. The bed creaks softly beneath them, a rhythmic testament to their intertwined bodies and the deep, silent conversation they were having, each movement a word, each breath a shared confession.

Her arms fold beneath her, her body slumped over the mattress, fully trusting him to not be overly rough with her. “Yes, oppa, just like that,” she mumbles, her voice thick with need. The moans continue to spill out of her lips, mixing with his groans in the bedroom air. “You got it, baby,” he replies, his fingers digging comfortably into the flesh of her hips. “Exactly like this for round one.” Sohyun gasps; the implication of his words—that it’s just the beginning—fills her with excitement, quietly promising him that she will do her best to keep up until the end.

Soon, his member twitches inside her, triggering her core to spasm around him. “Mmh! Mmh!” Her moans turn to gasps, her orgasm closing in rapidly. Sensing the same thing, Sunwoo picks up the pace, his hips snapping with urgency. “Oppa! Oppa, fu—” Sohyun plants her face into the pillow, stifling herself from cursing; he doesn’t like it when she curses too much during sex. “Just let go, baby. Let go for me!” he growls, his groans getting louder by the second. Finally, with a deep grunt, Sunwoo lodges himself as deep as he can in her, filling her core to the brim with his potent seed. “Oh my God, Park Sohyun…” he mutters, his voice raspy.

After he pulls out, Sohyun settles on her side, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her skin shiny with sweat. “Thank you, baby. That was amazing,” he spoons her from behind, his hand tracing circles on her belly, as if stimulating it to rise, “I hope you don’t mind going again after this.” Smiling softly, she places her hand on his, joining him in rubbing her belly. “No, I don’t. I want to have your child, and there’s only one way to make sure it takes.” Sunwoo chuckles, both amused and touched by her unshakeable willingness to conceive. “Alright, baby, we’ll go again after this, okay?”

-

Having regained strength, Sohyun moves to sit on his thighs, his half-erect manhood hovering over her belly. She looks down at it, her eyes turning darker with reignited want, and a smirk starts to spread across her features. “What are we thinking, love?” he asks, his brows rising with intrigue. Her sharp, dark gaze meets his, the smirk of arousal prominent on her face. “I’m thinking about giving you my last innocence, but anal sex cannot make me pregnant.”

The mention of such an proposition sends blood rushing to his manhood, making it fully hard and erect in a split second. “Anal sex…” Sunwoo echoes, his mind clouded with lust once again. “Mhmm, anal sex,” Sohyun confirms, teasing the head of his member with her fingers. “Giving you that would mean the ultimate submission, oppa.” His hands grip her hips hard, a contrast that cannot be starker; his grip on self-control is slipping quickly.

Sohyun's smirk widens, pleased by his palpable loss of control. "Getting hard just from thinking about it, oppa?" she taunts, her fingers moving lower, caressing the throbbing shaft, drawing another low groan from him. "But imagine the reality for a second, hm?" She leans in, her lips brushing his ear. "It won't make us those twins—or any child for that matter," she whispers, her voice laced with wicked promise. "But it will make me yours, in a way you've never been before." Her provocative words, combined with her touch, are the final push, shattering the last semblance of his self-restraint.

Sunwoo beckons her closer with a flick of his finger, the true depth of his lust lying beneath his sharp gaze. Sohyun bends down, getting her ears ready to hear his demand to surrender her forbidden crevice. “Give it to me, Park Sohyun. Give it to me, and I’ll make you mine in every way possible.” Her breath hitches at his demand; she’s got him exactly where she wants him to be, yes, but his size meeting her tightness… that sounds rather intimidating—but she’s not backing down. “Yes, sir…” she whispers, her voice laced with submission, her breath hot against his ear.

Sohyun gets off of him, settling on all fours and exposing all her private parts to his exploring gaze. “Remind me, baby—what is it you’re offering me?” he taunts, his finger tracing a line over her previously filled slit. Fighting back a moan, she manages to stammer out an answer for him, “M-my… my ass…”

Feeling a subtle pressure of his index finger on her tight, untouched rectum, Sohyun gasps loudly, her grip on the sheets tensing imperceptibly. “This is going to hurt, though,” Sunwoo traces the circular shape of her forbidden entrance, “are you sure? You still have a chance to back out.” She shakes her head firmly, driven only by her desire to fully surrender to him. “I-I think first times are meant to hurt—erm, t-that’s what make them special, o-oppa.”

Sohyun's last stammered words, though laced with a nervous tremor, spark a new fire in Sunwoo’s eyes. He pulls his finger away, letting the air cool the sensitive spot for a moment—but Sohyun doesn't wait. Driven by her earlier declaration of complete surrender, she subtly shifts her hips, a slight tilt that is all the invitation he needs. "Please, oppa. Take me," she whispers, her voice barely audible, pushing through the fear, desperate for the profound intimacy she's offering.

Sunwoo perches on his knees behind her, the sight of her most sacred parts helping him stay hard as a rock. He covers his erect manhood with as much spit as he can, hoping the wetness will ease the pain of first penetration. Satisfied with the coat he’s got, he lines up his member with her puckered opening—all he needs now is a green light. “Are we ready?” he asks, lust woven in his tone. Sohyun takes a few deep breaths, steadying herself before giving up the last innocence she has, before giving into the taboo. “Make me yours, oppa.”

Gritting his teeth, Sunwoo pushes forwards, the tip of him fighting to stretch her tight ring, to get past the snug muscle. “Oh my God, fuck…” he lets a curse slip through his lips, his eyelids flitting at the sensation of her impossibly taut grip. He moves his hips forwards in a testing manner, gauging her reaction while also adapting to this feeling. “Oh, fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby…” he mumbles, truly lost in her.

Sohyun's breath hitches, her body trembling beneath him, but she lets out a soft moan of surrender, signaling her willingness. Sunwoo groans, the sound deep and primal, as he pushes more of himself into her, slowly but surely, until he’s completely buried in her. A collective gasp escapes both their lips as he fills her to the brim, the searing burn replaced by a new kind of exquisite pressure. He pauses, allowing them both to adjust to the profound invasion, his entire body shaking with the effort of holding still. "All mine," he rasps, his voice raw with triumph and overwhelming possession. “All... all yours, daddy.”

Sohyun turns her head to the side, showing him a nod—that’s another green light to him. Sunwoo pulls back, until only his tip is in her rear, before plunging forwards once more, hitting the deepest spot and drawing out another soft moan from her. “You like that?” She nods breathlessly to his question, still adjusting to the intrusion. “One more time, then.” Repeating the movement, he puts more strength into it this time, his head spinning at how tight her anal muscles are hugging his member. “Oh, fuck, that’s fucking good, baby,” he growls, the deep tone burning her ears.

Sohyun's fingers dig into the sheets, her back arching slightly with each powerful, deliberate thrust. The initial, burning discomfort is now a distant memory, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure that resonates through her entire body. She starts to move with him, a primal, instinctive sway of her hips that matches his rhythm perfectly. Her moans grow louder, more uninhibited, a symphony of sheer delight that spurs Sunwoo on, driving him deeper, harder, lost in the exquisite, forbidden dance they were now expertly performing.

Sunwoo's focus sharpens, every nerve ending alive to the way her body moves with his, the way her moans rise in exquisite delight. A deep satisfaction, far beyond mere physical gratification, blooms in his chest. He pushes deeper, harder, driven now by the sheer joy of providing her with such profound pleasure. "That's it, my love," he rasps, his voice ragged with desire and triumph, his rhythm becoming a relentless, insistent claim, demanding every ounce of sensation from her, from them both.

Gathering her might, Sohyun lifts her torso, leaning against his chest as they keep moving together. “Fill my ass, daddy. Claim me, ruin me, use me,” she mumbles, lost in the sea of eros, just like he is. At her urging voice, Sunwoo ruts into her with more fervor, his length fully disappearing in her anus at every thrust. “Look at you, baby,” he gropes her full bosoms, squeezing them wildly, “one session of anal, and you’re already addicted.” A wicked grin, fueled with his praise, blooms on her face. “H-how can I not? Y-your cock is fucking perfect for me.”

Sunwoo’s grin widens, a dangerous gleam in his eyes at her raw confession. "Perfect for you, huh?" he growls, his voice deep and thick with satisfaction. He fastens his grip on her tits, pressing hot kisses to her skin as he continues to drive into her, relentlessly claiming her. "Then let's make sure you never forget it," he murmurs against her ear, his every thrust a potent reminder, his hands kneading her breasts, confirming his ownership, pulling her deeper into the delicious, all-consuming addiction she just admitted to.

Sunwoo lets out another guttural roar, his body trembling as the mind-numbing tightness pushes him closer to the edge. “Go on, say it,” he barks. “Say you want your ass filled.” Quickly taking a breath, Sohyun barks back, “Fill my ass with your seed! Please, daddy!” With the last bit of energy he has left, Sunwoo lodges himself fully in her anal crevice, releasing a load as big as the one he shot into her womb earlier. “Fuck!”

Drained, both collapse together, falling back into the mattress with no energy left in their tanks. “Sohyun, baby,” he whispers, his voice shaky from exhaustion. “Thank you so much. You’re amazing.” She nods weakly, her heart warm for two reasons: her taboo purity is his, and he’s satisfied by it. “T-thank you, oppa,” she manages, her entire body humming with remnants of the intense cherry-taking. “I-I’m truly yours now…” Another devilish smirk spreads across his lips, his ego bloating at her submissive admission, but it’s quickly replaced with a smile of gratitude. “You are, baby, and I’m yours. Never forget that, please.”

Sunwoo shifts slightly, pulling the sheet up to cover them both, though the Maldivian heat means it's more for comfort than warmth. He presses a soft kiss to her shoulder. "No regrets?" he whispers, a playful note in his exhausted voice. Sohyun giggles weakly. "None, oppa," she whispers back, tracing patterns on his arm. "Just… wow." He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "Yeah. Wow. You were incredible, baby girl. Every single part of you."

For a long time, they lie there, bodies pressed together, the only sounds their ragged breaths slowly evening out and the soft hum of the villa's air conditioning. The intensity of the past hours dissipates, leaving behind a profound sense of peace and satisfaction. Sunwoo presses a soft, lingering kiss to her hair. "Rest, my love," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. Sohyun closes her eyes, a contented sigh escaping her lips. Utterly spent, yet more fulfilled than she'd ever imagined, she drifts towards sleep, secure in the warmth of his embrace, a truly claimed woman in this haven in heaven.

[iskandersmuts]

Love Language

Woops, looks like the scheduling feature didn't quite work. I tried to get this out yesterday. Anyway, enjoy some Umji.

Length 2.3K

Umji X mreader

You rest your hand over your drink, stretching your neck as you enjoy your calm night out. You hear the sound of the front door opening, but pay it no mind, continuing on with your drink. A voice calls out to you. “Could you buy me a drink?” You peer to your side, seeing a young woman standing beside you. “I promise I can pay you back,” the young woman said, giving you a big smile, her soft cheeks poking up. She brought her hands to her chin, resting them on her palm. “Please?” 

“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?” you ask, looking at the young woman. 

She pouts, her chubby cheeks puffing out. “I can drink,” she whines cutely. “Just one drink, please.” The young woman was insistent. She took the seat next to you, refusing to give up just yet. 

“What’s your name?”

Thinking she was getting somewhere, the young woman chirps her response, “My friends call me Umji!” Umji leans in, scooting her seat closer to you. She shakes her head and smiles at you. Her hand reaches for your arm, tugging at it slightly. “Does this mean you’ll get me a drink? I promise I can pay you back.”

“And how exactly do you plan to pay me back?” You were genuinely curious. Umji seemed to be someone who would actually send you money. 

“I can show you my love language,” Umji said, laying her head on your arm.

“Your love language?” you say a little sarcastically.

Umji pouts at your tone, “Yeah, it's worth a drink or two,” she says. “Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

You might not be a ladies' man, but you knew better than to say no. “I think you’re a pretty woman…I just don’t know if it’s worth it for me.”  You motion toward yourself, trying to make a point. “What do you mean you’ll show me your love language?”

Umji smiles, tightening her grip around your arm as she looks at you. Her big doe eyes stare back at you. “I can’t just tell you,” she whispers, looking away and playing shy. “I can only show you.” Umji pouts again, making her lip quiver, “Please, mister, can you buy me a drink. I’m so thirsty.” Umji made her voice higher, trying to hit you with another level of cuteness. You take a deep breath and sigh. You know you shouldn’t buy the woman a drink, but you do anyway. 

You raise your hand, “Bartender, a drink for the lady.” 

Umji smiles and bounces in her seat. As the bartender arrives, Umji calls out her drink of choice, “A cosmopolitan, please!” Her cheery tone was enough to make you smile. “Thank you, mister! You’re so nice,” Umji says, turning to you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you huff, playing it off. 

“What do you do?” Umji asks you while the bartender begins to make her drink.

“Stuff,” you answer. You said it without a second thought, you didn’t know why you were being so guarded, it wasn’t like she would have any use for the information. “I do all kinds of things, a bit like a handyman.”

“Ohh,” Umji nods along, “Don’t you want to know what I do?”

You were a little curious, “Alright, I’ll bite. What do you do?”

“I’m a masseuse. I make sure everyone can be nice and relaxed,” Umji replies, brimming with pride. “It can be really hard work, like yours.” Umji nods as she makes the comparison. Before she can continue, the bartender places the drink down in front of Umji. “Thank you!” She calls out, picking up the frothy pink drink. Umji takes a small sip of it, shaking as she puts it back down. “Ah! It tastes so good! Do you want a taste?” Umji asks, pouting and pointing to her glistening lips. You let out a puff of air as you look at her. Umji giggles, happy that she got a reaction out of you. 

“So, do you always ask people for drinks?” You ask, turning things around on her.

“No, just the cute ones,” Umji kicks her feet, looking away from you with a smile on her face. 

“Mm, right,” You reply, teasing her a little.

“It’s true!” Umji shouts, playfully smacking your arm. “You’re pretty cute.” The young woman sips her drink, nearly finishing it. 

“Is that why you came up to me?”

Umji blushes slightly, “Maybe…” She was being coy. “No more questions!” Umji exclaims, taking a final swig of her drink. 

“You finished that pretty quickly. Do you want another?”

The young woman tilts her head, “Mm, if you’re offering to buy me another drink, I’ll take it.” You call the bartender over again, Umji gives you a giddy smile, baring her teeth as she orders a different drink this time. “Malibu Sunshine!” Umji pauses for a moment, “Wait, that’s not right…Ah, Malibu Sunset.” Umji looks at you, tilting her head and lightly smacking her knuckle against it. “I always think of sunshine before I remember it’s sunset.” You can’t help but smile at the cute act. You and Umji continue talking, having a few more drinks. With each passing one, Umji becomes a little more handsy. She clings to you, whining when you try to move away. “Let me stay here, it’s so nice,” she says, slurring her words as she nuzzles against your arm. 

“I think you’ve had enough,” you mumble. The drinks are hitting you just as hard as they were, Umji.

“No, you’ve had enough,” Umji giggles. “Let’s go back to your place so I can show you my love language,” Umji whispers into your ear.  You nod along and pay your tab, just as you're about to head out, Umji stops you. “I want to go to the bathroom.” The young woman grabs your hand and drags you to the women’s bathroom. You hardly notice, though, your vision is already blurry. Umji pushes her way in and kisses you before heading to the sinks. You watch the young woman. Umji raises her dress and bends over the sink. “Get over here, I want to show you what you’re missing out on.”

You walk over to the young woman, staring at her backside. Your hands wander her body, rubbing and squeezing the soft flesh. Your hands wander higher, going for her clothed breasts. The young woman reaches back, spreading her cheeks apart for you. “Put it in,” she whines, waving her ass for you. You nod, struggling for a moment to pull out your cock before managing. You rub the head against her folds before pushing in. Umji’s slick walls greet you warmly, snuggly wrapping around you as you push into her cunt. The young woman lets out a low guttural moan as she feels your hot shaft move deeper into her core. “Mmm, it’s so hot,” Umji moans as she pushes her hips back, wanting more of you. The young woman reaches between her legs, her fingers moving quickly to her clit. She rubs the sensitive nub in smooth circles, moaning as you thrust in and out of her.

You press yourself against the young woman, kissing the back of her neck as you drive your cock into her cunt. You feel her walls squeeze you, time and time again. “Spank me,” you hear Umji moan.

“What?”

“Spank me,” Umji moans again, “I want you to hit me hard.” You pull your hand back and smack the young woman’s ass, watching her skin ripple from the hard strike. Umji’s moans get louder for a moment. She turns her head, biting her bottom lip, “Like that, hit me like that,” she moans. You give Umji another smack on the rear and another. Each hit makes her moan more; she doesn’t hold herself back, letting her arousal show. Umji clutches the side of the sink, holding it tightly as you continue to thrust into her. You think about how the cute girl you had been talking to not that long ago has turned out to be so depraved. Whether it was the alcohol or not, you didn’t think about it. You were too focused on the pleasure you felt.

“Keep going,” Umji calls out, grunting as you continue to pound her against the sinks. You can feel her walls tightening around you as you thrust. The pleasure was becoming too great for you, too. You didn’t want to cum just yet. 

You drive your hand into Umji’s bright red cheek, leaving your handprint on it as she cries out for more. You grip her waist tightly and drive yourself into her faster and faster. Your bodies clap against each other, filling the bathroom with the sounds of your lovemaking. “I’m going to cum,” you groan through gritted teeth. 

“Do it inside, do it inside,” Umji whines. She releases her grip on one side of the sink and reaches for her cunt, rubbing it quickly as she tries to meet you at the same time. “I’m cumming too,” Umji moans, keeping her head down. She bites her lip, trying to hold on that little bit longer. The moment she feels your cock throbbing and your cum being pumped into her, she’s pushed over the edge. Umji throws her head back and cries out, filling the room as she’s rocked by her orgasm. 

Umji’s walls constrict around you, clamping down and milking you for every drop you have. Umji’s eyes flutter as she feels every drop of your hot cum pour into her cunt, painting her walls white with your seed. You keep yourself buried inside of her, your body growing tired. “Let’s go one more time,” Umji says through heavy breaths. “I want to be on top,” she adds. You give Umji a nod and pull out slowly, your cum seeping out of her puffy cunt.

Umji turns around, grabbing your shirt and pulling you into a kiss, her tongue invading your mouth while she pushes you into one of the stalls. She reaches behind her and makes sure the stall is locked before moving you onto the toilet and straddling you. Umji aligns her cunt with your cock, rubbing the dirty head against her lips before sinking onto it. Pleasure floods your body, and you moan into your kiss. The young woman doesn’t waste a moment; she rides you quickly, moving up and down your shaft. 

As Umji bounces on your cock you pull down the top of her dress, letting the cold air hit her nipples before you reach for and cup her breasts. Umji’s moans grow louder, her hard nipples rub against the palms of your hands as you squeeze her modest chest. You massage the soft mounds. The pleasure coursing through Umji’s body messes with her rhythm, and she stops bouncing on your shaft. Needing to gather herself, Umji rocks her hips in the meantime. 

You’re both breathless by the time your kiss ends, each of you gasping for every breath. Your moans grow louder as Umji swivels her hips. You watch the young woman move in circles, making your cock rub against her walls as she finally composes herself and switches back to riding you in earnest. “You feel so good,” Umji moans, her breasts bouncing with every drop of her body onto yours. 

You move your hands down Umji’s body, settling back on her waist as she rides you. You lean in, lapping at her neck. It makes the young woman coo. You wouldn’t last too much longer with Umji’s pace. 

She was close, too. Umji was getting closer, with every drop onto your cock she was nearing the edge. The young woman moved her hands to your shoulders, using them to support herself as she moved. Her moans began to turn into whines, and it became harder for her to move on top of you. 

Getting close and wanting to cum, you began to move Umji along your cock. It helped her, certainly, but it also quickened the time you had together. As you began to thrust into Umji, her whines came quicker; you were stabbing into her core. Her legs were growing weak, but she kept moving; she could feel her climax. Umji’s body was trembling as she slammed herself down one last time, impaling herself on your cock and letting you flood her womb with semen one more time. Umji threw her head back, a silent moan flowing from her lips as warmth spread across her body. You pull Umji closer, and her head falls on your shoulder. You kiss her neck as your body calms down. Drowsiness overtakes you both before you can react. You end up falling asleep in the stall, still buried inside Umji. 

You awaken only when the staff come inside to clean up the bathroom. Umji still lies on top of you, barely stirring as the sound of footsteps drawing closer comes near. You lift Umji off you and raise the straps of her dress. “Staff is here, we have to go,” you mumble to her. Umji sleepily nods her head. Knowing she’d barely be able to walk, you carry her bridle-style and rush out of the bathroom. You ignore the staff and hurry out, getting a few blocks away before stopping. Umji holds onto you loosely, her head resting against your chest as she snores lightly. You shake your head and look around, seeing no other option, “Guess, we’re going home.” You say carrying the sleeping woman to a taxi and taking her home with you. 

She sleeps the entire ride, and only when you pick her up and begin the walk inside does she mumble something, “My hero.” You shake your head as you feel the smile on her lips, Umji’s head nuzzling against your chest.  

“You owe me,” 

“I’ll show you more of my love language.” Umji murmurs before drifting back to sleep.

[iskandersmuts]

BETTER THAN HER

stepmom!Jihyo x Male Reader feat. Yunjin

Tags: cheating, titfucking, teasing, cum on tits, sloppy blowjob

AN: Sorry for the slow uploads! I've been continuously writing stories!

You thought it would be a normal weekend. Yunjin, your girlfriend of nearly a year, had finally decided it was time to introduce you to her mom. You were nervous—who wouldn’t be? She rarely talked about her, and when she did, there was this vague edge to her tone… like she didn’t want to get too deep.

But none of that prepared you for Jihyo.

The door opened, and she stood there in a silky wine-colored blouse that showed just enough cleavage to confuse you, her pencil skirt hugging wide hips that swayed with casual dominance. Her makeup was subtle but flawless, her eyes sharp and assessing.

“You must be him,” she said, smiling in a way that felt like she already knew too much.

You swallowed and bowed slightly, mumbling a polite greeting. Jihyo tilted her head, eyes raking up and down your body—slow, deliberate, and definitely not motherly.

The three of you sat in the living room, wine glasses in hand. Yunjin was curled into your side, chatting excitedly about university life. You tried to focus on her, on the familiar comfort of her voice and her hand on your thigh.

But Jihyo… her gaze never left you.

She sat across, legs crossed with a knowing smirk, watching you sip from your glass. Every few seconds, her foot shifted slightly, heel teasing at her ankle strap, as if she wanted you to look. And when your eyes accidentally met hers, she smirked—not kindly, not casually.

Predatory.

“Be right back, babe. I need the bathroom,” Yunjin said suddenly, pecking your cheek and standing.

The moment she turned the corner—

“I see why she likes you,” Jihyo said smoothly, setting her glass down with a faint clink. “Cute. Polite. Nervous.”

You froze.

“I-I’m sorry?” you said, heart starting to race.

Jihyo stood. Walked toward you slowly. She leaned down, so close her breath tickled your ear.

“Let me guess,” she purred. “Yunjin’s still figuring things out. Still shy in bed. Still asks if it hurts when you slide inside?”

You nearly choked.

“I—uh—I don’t think—”

Her hand traced the top of your shoulder. “Relax. I’m not judging. She’s sweet. But don’t lie to yourself, baby boy… her pussy’s not even close to mine.”

You jolted away from her touch, face burning, but before you could say a word—

“Back!” Yunjin called cheerily from the hall.

Jihyo stepped back like nothing had happened, fixing her blouse with perfect calm. You stared straight ahead, heart hammering in your ears as Yunjin snuggled back into your side, oblivious.

That night, you lay beside Yunjin on the guest bed, her breathing slow and gentle as she fell asleep curled around your arm.

But you couldn’t sleep.

Jihyo’s voice kept echoing in your head. That gaze. The confidence. The threat. And underneath all of that—your shame.

Your hard-on pressed uncomfortably against your boxers.

You sighed and slowly slipped out from under Yunjin’s arm, padding softly out of the room to go use the bathroom downstairs.

The hallway was dark, quiet. You turned the corner—

And froze.

Jihyo stood at the end of the hall in a loose robe that was barely tied. Her cleavage spilled out from the top, the hem high enough to flash creamy thighs with every step she took toward you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she whispered.

“I—I just need the bathroom,” you muttered.

She stepped in close, fingers curling around your wrist.

“No. You need something else.”

Before you could resist, she dragged you into her bedroom and kicked the door shut with a soft click. She shoved you against the wall and pressed her body to yours—warm, soft, and dangerously firm.

“I love Yunjin,” you blurted.

Jihyo’s eyes glinted.

“Good,” she whispered, lips brushing yours. “Then you’ll know just how wrong this is when I fuck you better than she ever could.”

“Stop—I can’t—”

“Shhh.”

Her hand slid into your boxers, gripping your painfully hard cock.

“She doesn’t even know how to stroke you, does she? She probably treats this thing like it’ll break.”

She started stroking you slowly, fingers teasing the head.

“But I know what a cock like this needs. I’ve raised one. You think I can’t break one too?”

You gasped as she knelt, parting her robe just enough to expose full, heavy tits.

“You’ll cum on these, baby. You’ll cum for me.”

Her tongue dragged across the tip of your cock, slow and dangerous, eyes never leaving yours.

Jihyo devoured you like a starving woman—insatiable, relentless, and so in control it made your head spin.

Her knees hit the floor with practiced grace, her silk robe falling open just enough to flash the swell of her bare breasts. She didn’t ask. She didn’t hesitate. She just looked up at you with those dark, hungry eyes and took your cock into her mouth.

Her tongue swirled around the head first—slow, deliberate—teasing the slit until you twitched. Then her lips sealed around you and she sank deep. Your body seized.

“F-Fuck—” you choked, grabbing the edge of the dresser behind you for support, legs trembling.

Jihyo moaned low in her throat—on purpose—the vibration shooting straight through your core as she swallowed you inch by inch. Her throat flexed around your length, tight and hot, and when her nose touched your pelvis, she stayed there, gagging softly, loving it.

You looked down and saw it—spit drooling from the corners of her mouth, strings clinging to her chin, her chest, your thighs. Her eyes fluttered up, smug even as her throat spasmed around your cock.

She pulled off with a slick pop, panting, lips red and swollen.

“You’re already shaking,” she purred, slowly stroking your spit-soaked cock with one hand. “So sensitive. Poor thing. She doesn’t take care of you, does she?”

Before you could answer, she spat again—thick, wet, and hot—right onto your shaft, letting it drip all the way down before wrapping her tits around it.

“Oh fuck—” you gasped, knees locking.

She smirked. “Mmm. There we go.”

Her breasts engulfed you—soft, tight, warm. She squeezed them together, your cock snug between them as she began to slide you through, slowly at first, then faster. The spit made it slick, nasty. Each stroke pushed the head of your cock out the top, and each time she leaned forward and kissed it—wet, warm, possessive.

“You like this, don’t you?” she whispered. “Tell me the truth. Has Yunjin ever even looked at your cock like this?”

You tried to shake your head, tried to speak, but she cut you off by leaning forward and sucking your tip back into her mouth mid-stroke.

“Ah—Jihyo, please—fuck—”

She pulled off again with a laugh. “No, huh? Of course not. That little girl doesn’t know how to worship a cock. But I do.”

She started bouncing her tits faster now, hands squeezing tighter, fucking your cock between them with obscene slaps of skin and spit.

“Look at you. Twitching. Gasping. Losing your mind from a titfuck. You’re hers? No, baby. You belong to me.”

You whimpered—helpless, eyes fluttering. She leaned forward again, whispering as her tits pounded against your thighs.

“Beg,” she hissed. “Beg to cum on mommy’s tits.”

“I—I can’t—”

“You will. Say it.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily.

“Please—please, Jihyo—let me cum on your tits—I’m gonna—”

Suddenly—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Your heart stopped.

Jihyo froze for half a second, then slowly turned her head. She was still stroking you with her tits, her hands on either side of them, skin glistening with sweat and spit. Her hair was wild, her mouth still wet, her cheeks flushed. She looked like sin incarnate.

And standing in the doorway—was Yunjin.

Her face was pale with shock, twisting into something between betrayal and fury. Her hands shook at her sides. “What the hell are you doing to him?!”

“Baby, I—” you stammered, words tripping over the edge of your tongue, but it was already too late.

Your body, traitorous and unthinking, clenched and spasmed. You groaned as your orgasm ripped through you, hips twitching helplessly as thick ropes of cum shot up Jihyo’s chest, streaking her skin, her neck, even her cheek. A strand caught in her hair. Her smile only grew as she kept stroking you, slow and cruel, milking every drop with calculated precision.

“Oops,” she whispered, not even looking at Yunjin. “Too late.”

Yunjin’s eyes were wide, blinking rapidly, her chest rising and falling as if she couldn’t breathe. Her mouth opened like she wanted to scream, but no sound came.

“Get. Out.” Her voice cracked on the last word, low and shaking.

You reached for her, panic and guilt rising in your throat—but she backed away like you were poison, her eyes already shining with tears. The door slammed shut so hard the frame rattled.

Silence.

Jihyo exhaled through her nose, amused, then wiped a slow finger through the mess on her chest and brought it to her lips. She licked it clean—one long, obscene motion—her eyes never once leaving the door Yunjin had just fled through.

“Well,” she purred, rising to her feet, bare and glistening, “guess I’ll be the only one calling you baby now.”

You stood there frozen—sweat cooling on your skin, breath uneven, heart hammering. Your cock was softening, spent and glistening with her spit and your cum. The shame hit in waves, creeping up from your stomach, squeezing your ribs, clawing into your throat like it wanted to choke you from the inside out.

She baited you. She broke you. And you let her.

“I didn’t want this,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Jihyo’s laugh was low, amused, sharp as broken glass. “You begged for it.”

She stepped closer, bare feet on the hardwood floor, tits still glistening, a smudge of your release trailing down her sternum like a claim. She reached out, dragging her nails across your chest gently, like you were some prized possession she’d finally unwrapped.

“You loved it,” she added, quieter now. “Don’t insult me by pretending otherwise.”

You recoiled slightly. “I love Yunjin.”

Jihyo’s expression didn’t change. She looked at you like that confession was cute, like a child clinging to a broken toy.

“You loved Yunjin,” she corrected. “Past tense. But she’s not here anymore, is she? She ran. Like a girl. Because she couldn’t handle the truth.”

She slid a hand down your stomach, her fingers ghosting along your skin. You flinched when they brushed your soft cock.

“You can lie to her all you want,” Jihyo said, her tone coiling with hunger, “but don’t lie to me. Your body knows who owns it now.”

You clenched your jaw, throat dry. “You ruined everything.”

Her lips curled, almost proud. “No. I just revealed everything. You were already drifting. Already curious. I just… opened the door.”

She turned from you, walking slowly across the room, her hips swaying like she wanted to taunt the memory of your orgasm back to life. She picked up her robe, but made no effort to cover herself—just draped it loosely over her shoulders, her body still on display, as if your cum was part of her now.

“I’ve had men look at me like that before,” she said as she stared out the window. “Hungry. Desperate. Guilty.”

She glanced back at you, eyes dark and glinting with satisfaction.

“They always come back.”

You staggered a step backward. The dresser behind you creaked as you leaned into it for support, suddenly aware of how sore your legs were, how weak your knees had become. Your brain was racing, overloaded. The air felt thick with the smell of sex, sweat, perfume, and salt.

“Why?” you asked. “Why her? Why… do this to your daughter?”

Jihyo’s laugh this time was hollow, deeper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You think this was about Yunjin?”

She turned toward you again, walking slowly, deliberately, until she was just inches from your chest. She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper.

“This was about you.”

You tried to breathe, but your lungs felt tight, your body still betraying you with the ghost of arousal curling in your gut, despite the disgust and regret gnawing at your ribs.

“She never knew how to handle a man like you. I do. I knew the moment I saw you. The way you watched me when you thought I wasn’t looking. The way you fidgeted. The way you got hard the second I said her pussy wasn’t enough.”

You turned your head away, shame crawling up your neck like heat.

“But now?” she whispered, her voice velvet and smoke. “Now you’re mine. And I’ll make sure you never forget how good it felt to be ruined.”

Her hand wrapped around your cock again—not to tease, not to arouse, but to remind. Her grip was gentle, almost affectionate, like she was holding something fragile she already knew how to break.

You pulled away finally, jerking out of her grasp with a gasp, like you’d come out of a trance.

“I—I have to go,” you muttered. “I need to find her.”

Jihyo didn’t stop you. She just smiled again, that same cruel, knowing smile.

“Go ahead. Run to her. Try to explain why you came on her mother’s tits.”

Her words were calm, but they hit like knives. You grabbed your pants and slipped them on clumsily, your hands trembling. Your shirt was across the room, half-crumpled, and stained with sweat. You ignored it. You just had to get out.

But as you fumbled for the door handle, she called after you, sing-song and cruel:

“Tell her I said thank you for sharing.”

You burst out into the hallway, the silence of the house oppressive. Yunjin was gone—her bedroom door wide open, the guest sheets thrown off, her shoes missing from the front step.

You were alone.

You were trapped.

And Jihyo… was still in the room behind you, humming softly to herself, wiping your cum from her chest like it was lotion, sealing the sin into her skin.

[iskandersmuts]

He, She, & Her [Pt. 2.5.2]

Lee JiWoo (tripleS) x Male Reader (feat. Kim ChaeYeon)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.5.1

Tags: smut, fluff, poly relationship, daddy kink, (brief) choking, creampie, semi-public

Word count: 5.6k

a/n: another mini-chapter before the next one. it's on the shorter side like the last one, but then again, I'm planning the third to be longer.

“Fu—ck… Just keep going, baby!” Chaeyeon moans in her kneeling position, her breathing slowly losing rhythm while Honggi's cock slides in and out between her breasts in the past ten minutes inside the bathroom. Ever since they’ve tried out this latest position, they simply couldn’t stop trying out more alternatives to their favorite.

Their movement is approaching each other's peak, even the woman feels her own juices spurting from her folds through her fingers, digging deep inside herself. “I'm clo--close, M--mommy!” Honggi yells, desperate for her next directive, while balancing his breath.

“Do--it, ba--by!” But he’s aware she’s not safe today, considering that they’re in a different position. Nevertheless, this hasn’t made Chaeyeon any less turned on by Honggi fucking her tits while they lock eyes. And as their both climax approaches seconds away from each other, he knows the next area to shoot. “Cuuu--ummm!”

Within a matter of a second, the man keeps his straight grip on his shaft and spills his seed right in front of her face, dripping down her mounds like last time. He helps her stand up from the slippery floor, which she accepts as he welcomes her into his arms.

“That was, ahhh…” The man regains his breath, as with Chaeyeon, while noticing his semen splattered on her face. “A lot… Sorry, babe.”

“No, no, don’t be, babe…” she laughs into their hug. “Isn’t this why we did it here? I was just really, really impressed you managed to pull that off now…”

Turning the shower once again at its lowest power, he washes the last of his seed on her face and cleavage down the drain, though her words still piques his interest, scratching the bundles of hair on his chin while their bodies part. “Impressed, how?”

“More came out,” she simply tells him as he turns it off. “I mean, compared to our little moment in the office bathroom… Nothing beats your busts whenever we’re back here.”

“Oh, yeah… Well, I guess it just happens whenever I’m in a more—comfortable spot.”

“Awww….” she coos. “Still managed to make your excuse sweet, you two-timer.”

He shakes his head. “Hey, I’m just trying to split our time together, you know?”

She knows that doesn’t have to stay the case. “But, you know, there’s another thing…”

He feels the woman’s fingers trailing up on his chest, as another set of shivers down his spine every time she does that. “And what’s that?”

Her smile widens while she leans into his ear. “Jiwoo-yah misses the hell out of you.”

His eyes widened, not that he doesn’t believe her. His dick clearly does, feeling it rise, but in his heart, he also misses Jiwoo, at least intimately. “Really? Why didn’t she tell me herself?” It’s only been a week since he and Jiwoo last did it, so he gets her desire.

“Well, she’s not the touchiest with her own feelings… Not with everyone she’s not close with.” Her cadence slowly shifts—asking him with her arms crossed. “You still haven’t noticed that, or have you only been following your dick whenever you’re with her?”

Her sardonic retort stunlocks him, still processing what she said earlier. “Chae, I don—”

The woman immediately wheezes at his reaction. “I’m just joking, Honggi-yah…” she comforts him with a smooch on his left cheek. “But I’m sure you two know each other more compared to last time… A whole weekend, too, you freaks.”

He almost defends himself from her adjective, but he cannot deny it. That is one way to describe their weekend together. He can even say the same thing about him and Chae. “Huh… Now that you brought it up, maybe I’m just a lot slower than her at times,” he reasons, shrugging out his hands.

“That’s just her being a T,” she jokes, lightly bending her hand forward. “That’s normal.”

“Really?” MBTIs are a thing of the last half a decade, but he gets what she means. Jiwoo is not a sweet talker, not in his experience, at least. Despite having already spent enough restless and passionate nights together, Honggi knows Jiwoo is and will always be more of Chaeyeon’s girlfriend than he is. Of course, making a relationship polyamory doesn’t just happen in one night. As far as he’s concerned with labels, they’re fuck buddies who have managed soften up a few times. But for Chaeyeon, she believes that’s a good start.

She puts on her undergarments, locking her bra with his assistance. “Yep… You might’ve tamed the wild bear, but she’s far from soft… She’s gone wild over some other fellas long before you, although it takes a little more to make her open up.”

Honggi can only mutter “Oh…” while he slowly puts on his boxers and shirt next to her.

His reaction makes the woman chuckle as soon as she puts on her pants. “But, still… I’m sure I can trust you on that.”

“I’ll, uhh, I’ll try my best, babe,” he promises with a slight hesitation, before closing in to give Chaeyeon a loving peck on her cheek. We’ve done this before. No biggie! he opines, even straightening his posture in front of his girlfriend to help her put on her blouse.

“I know you will. Remember how you wooed me over?” she giggles, before pulling him in for a warm embrace. “Have fun, you two, arasseo? Saranghae. Enjoy your Saturday.” She leaves a wink at him and turns to the door, but not before he could also reciprocate her love. It would’ve been nice to have both women hanging around at the same time, but he also understands that she gotta get that bread with their new media partners, even on a weekend. Eventually, he’ll have to experience overtime again pretty soon.

It would take another ten more minutes until Honggi hears the door unlocks from the single sofa, making him slouch his posture on the couch, his head only to be seen from Jiwoo’s view. Despite being aware of her presence, he allows Jiwoo to enter the dining room while she sneaks up on him from behind. Through his smirk, he can’t hold in his excitement at her arrival, with his toes moving to the beat of the music on the television.

With her body crouched as low as she can, Jiwoo slowly leaves her messenger bag on the carpet near the dining table and takes off her shoes without any sound before tiptoeing towards the living room with her socks on. It takes her three seconds, pursing her lips while widening her steps about two feet per step ‘till she reaches the single-seat sofa.

Hoping to get an entertaining scare for this morning, she hovers her hands above his head like a horror movie monster or a movie raptor and, with a grin, goes in for the—

“Boo!” Honggi turns his neck around and faces Jiwoo as quick as a flash, latching his hands and intertwining his fingers with hers in an instant right before she can react.

“Kamjagiya!” Jiwoo shouts from his surprise, bending her knees out of terror. Still, Honggi keeps his hold of the woman’s arms to keep her from collapsing on the floor.

“You saw me coming?” her eyes remain wide, but she cracks up at her own reaction and tomfoolery. Her heart begins to race, as expected, but relief would follow her system at the sight of him and the comforting sensation of his tender touch.

He joins her laughter, leaning his head upwards for a second, almost upside down, to see a closer look at her reaction. “Your keycard was pretty noisy. Plus, I don’t think you realize that I can see you sneaking like a dinosaur from the TV’s reflection—considering your height and all.”

“Haha,” she replies with a dry delivery before throwing a soft punch on his left shoulder with a proud smirk. She’s not the only goofball here. “You’re taller than me, you know?”

“I know, I know! I’m just kidding…” He caresses her fingers. “Good morning, Jiyu-yah.”

Jiwoo rests her head on his right shoulder, kissing his hair. “Good morning too, oppa.”

As they part, Honggi lowers the television with the remote before turning his attention to her. “I heard from Chae you’ve been busy this early. I thought you were just opening the shop for the morning.”

“Yup, but a part-timer burnt a batch of croissants…” she elaborates while walking past him to sit on the couch to his right. “I gotta fix up her mess by making another, or else we’ll both get another scolding from our supervisor.”

“No worries. At least, that’s the last of your shift today, I assume. I hope you can relax.”

“Yeah…” She slides her back and lies down on the sofa, maximizing most of the space. “And that's not a bad idea. I'll just take a breather right here. Just for a bit.”

Seeing the resting woman’s feet in front of him leaves him with an idea to please her, while her eyes are covered by her hovering arm. The man inches and leans closer, much like Jiwoo did before, leaving peppers if kisses on each of her sweaty feet. She moves her arm down. “Jamkkanman…” he whispers with a sultrier impression.

Her head arches on the couch, whimpering with pleasure as it races through her spine while the man’s fingers and lips make her tingle.

Much to his surprise, Jiwoo giggles out of instinct. “Uhhh—oppa… It's dirty, come on.”

“So am I,” he counters with a smile, not minding the fact that he just showered. From his perspective, Jiwoo’s feet aren’t so bad. Aside from sweat, there’s hints of funk, but strangely enough, it’s what makes him more inquisitive. Seconds later, his lips part to release the tip of his tongue, so he can give it a slow lick, starting with her toes.

“Nggghhhh…” she twitches. “Fuck. I didn't know you have a thing for feet, Lim Honggi.”

“I’m just a little curious…” he confesses, before his hands hover over her legs. “May I?”

It seems that Jiwoo doesn't have much energy to respond with her words, only a nod. With her approval, Honggi leans closer, spreading his kisses up her legs like a hiker’s trail, making the woman cover her mouth with her hands due to her rising volume as soon as he reaches her crotch.

Her left hand switches its anchor onto Honggi’s hair, her right digging her nails on the leather of the couch. With no hand to cover her own mouth, her tempo of moans turn into a sporadic series of yelps and screams. “Auuuugghh, fuck—oppa! Ooooh!”

But, of course… He stops halfway there. He doesn’t want it to end just yet. “Sorry… I just think I got a little ahead of myself there.”

“What makes you say that? It must’ve been fun…” Her tongue slowly licks her upper lip. “Having your seed all over unnie.”

He slowly backs off from her. “How did you know?”

“She wanted to give me a little tease of your exercise before she left… You’re so unfair, you know that? You’d let her finish first, but not me? Don't tell me you've gotten soft.”

Her words strike a nerve, as his own libido. “Oh, fuck this... You’re definitely getting it.”

With Jiwoo being slowly cornered to the couch’s corner, Honggi pounces on her under the spell of his lust, crashing his lips against hers with reckless abandon. Her sweat and skin reeks of bread and remains of flour and the scent of vanilla, prompting him to trail his lips down her neck and collarbone to find more of her irresistible additional flavor.

“You're just a tease, you know that?” she lets out in-between moans, her hands also using the opportunity to reexamine his curves. His body is far from the bulkiest, yet touching it amps up her drive. Honggi’s skin emanates the powerful woody yet floral scent of his perfume, whiffing the mix of him and Chaeyeon’s scent on his clean body.

“Takes one to know one, I guess,” he throws back, before continuing his exploration of her chest regions, even if they’re still covered by her undershirt.

“I can't fucking wait anymore, oppa.” Her tone of hunger and mischief turns into a plea.

They finally begin undressing each other’s tops. “Chae did tell me about that,” he adds.

With ease, Jiwoo helps Honggi strip his boxer off once more, finding the already erect manhood that awaits her exposed cunt. “Then you should know how desperate I am to have that cock inside me all over again.”

Plunging his shaft deep inside Jiwoo’s cunt has never felt like a chore. Much like with Chaeyeon, it’s always an adventure that he’s willing to dive into. For Jiwoo, it’s like an addiction that she’s been craving since their last act of intimacy. Neither of them have done substances, but they surmise that it feels similar to their yearning for each other.

Their movement goes in sync within a minute of grinding, but Jiwoo is yet to be satisfied with this already steaming setup. She wants to put a spin on it, and so she leans closer to Honggi’s ears, whispering the three words “Choke… me… daddy…”

He looks up to her, his pounding slowing down out of surprise. “Jiwoo-yah…”

Expecting his reaction, the thrilled woman leans her lips closer to his, assuring him with a slobbering kiss, allowing them both to indulge in this sensual act of trust in each other. “It'll be okay, oppa.”

Honggi can’t help but swallow his throat, all the saliva he’s been drooling. Her words have sent chills through his spine, while his rationale struggles with his primal urge, tugging for his next initiative on how to proceed with this new experiment.

“Just remember not to squeeze too much,” she adds. His heartbeat continues rising.

Sensing his unease, she places her right palm on his cheek. That gesture—that feeling that always slows him down when he begins to panic. She leans her head upward and gives his lips a soft kiss. “I know you can do it, arasseo? I trust you, Honggi-oppa.”

With his determination, Honggi continues the rhythm of his thrusts while reaching his hands around her neck. As his fingers close in with caution, Jiwoo’s loud moans become muffled by the second, becoming interrupted like static on a screen. Yet, the sensation of constraint on her breathing somehow amplifies and complements her waves of pleasure, adding to her erogenous zones, perhaps a riskier one that’ll always require their consent, confidence, and more practice—even if his attempt now has surpassed her expectations. Jiwoo can only roll her eyes to the side, her eyelids half-closed, and arch her back more.

Seven seconds of squeezing in and out lasts until Honggi finally lets go of his hold on her. His gaze locks with hers, checking in her state. Much to his surprise, she smiles once she opens her eyes wide, as if she just held her own breath underwater.

“Hah!” Jiwoo yelps with relief and gratification, her breathing easing up, but her body, from her hips to legs begins to twitch and spasm along with the waves of pleasure that she is already experiencing. “I’m sss—I’m ssaaaafe, today…” she murmurs. “Arasseo?”

Like before, she just gave him the signal. Even with her stuttered breathing, she can already feel her build-up closing in. Honggi gives three more thrusts—until his hips slowly tire out. But one more thrust finally makes him feel the pressure of his seed flowing up his cock, the same second Jiwoo begins to squirt juices out of her cunt.

“I’m coc--coming!” the woman adds, her scream intensifying with immense ecstasy as she reaches her climax first. A few seconds later, Honggi gives more and more thrusts without a sense of coherent thought, driven to finish inside this beautiful woman who waits for his release. However, the man’s approaching climax triggers another one on Jiwoo’s, as if her body expects her partner’s, and within half a minute of more thrusts and moans at each other’s mouths, Honggi feels his hips convulsing and legs slowing down, followed by the inevitable pressure in his penis. The feeling of initial spurting from his penis’ tip prompts him to instinctively close his eyes and roar “Me--ttooo!”

Jiwoo’s squeal reaches the ceiling as her womb welcomes the firing of Honggi’s cum. As soon as their climax subsides, the woman pulls him closer to her in an embrace, but he still keeps himself from completely weighing down on her, anchoring his right arm and hands on the edge of the couch as support. Noticing his struggle in keeping he safe from getting crushed by his body, she rolls her body to the rightmost corner to give him some space to lie onto. He reaches close to Jiwoo’s forehead, and gives it a sweet kiss, before finally landing right next to her as they face each other, lying on their side.

“Thanks—” he heaves, looking over his lover with a caring gaze. “And, uhh, Is that—was that… That good? Like the--the request?”

“Mmmmm…” she weakly nods, leaving a series of kisses on his lips and chin. “Perfect.”

“Don’t ask me to do it again,” he chuckles, still with a heavy breath, while he fixes the messy strands of her hair. But she can tell from his eyes some hints of fear. “Please?”

“Gwenchana, oppa…” she nuzzles on his chest.” I just… Wanted to try it out. Hmmm…”

“I’ll practice better next time…” he continues. “If you’re still up for that freakiness.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She raises her eyebrows with a snarky smile.

“Because you’re still a little dirty, and sweatier. And now, so have I, because of you.”

Jiwoo squints her eyes, immediately forming a pout. Nevertheless, she senses the humor in his tone, which she appreciates. “Oh, you’re blaming me now? You sex maniac started this because of your foot fetish.”

“I don’t have a—” He’s unsure whether to be flattered or insulted. “What I mean is, I’m not blaming you… And I didn’t say that was a bad thing, Jiyu… I’m just suggesting that maybe… We can relax, and clean up, like last time?”

“Hmmm…” A thought just entered Jiwoo’s mind, as her eyes lit up. One idea that she remembers listing down on her phone. One that she’s been planning for a while now. “Well… Why don't we clean up together? We can relax elsewhere, too…”

Honggi stands up from the couch, taking his boxers off the carpet, while Jiwoo inches her butt to take a seat. “Of course! Maybe we can wait ‘til Chae—”

“Aniya, aniya… I mean just the two of us. Remember what I told you?”

“That you don't keep secrets from each other?” he guesses as she stands up to face him.

“Maja…” With both palms, she rubs his red cheeks.

Slowly and surely, anticipation builds up on his spirits. “What do you have in mind?”

= = =

The trip to the pool was only a two-minute walk. Contrary to the couple’s place, the spot was located in an apartment complex. There’s still a few people there. It's summer, after all. What better place to spend the summer heat in than taking a dip in bodies of water? Jiwoo told him to bring spare clothes, so he had most of both their stuff in a duffel bag.

Instead of stopping at the residence pool, the man follows her steps until they enter an area that’s smaller and much more private. An indoor swimming spa, with no one else but the two of them. Curiosity immediately leaves him with the mere question, “how?” and maybe even “why?” she’d do this with just him and her, especially to take a break right after work in this more lavish and isolated setting.

Jiwoo takes her clothes from the bag, before heading straight to the spa bathroom, although she keeps their conversation alive, retaining the playful tone in her voice.

“I managed to rent this spot this Wednesday. But I got to thank a friend for that.”

Despite the door being closed, Honggi looks away by habit, his arms swinging as he waits. “Must be a really good friend… They got you this whole room for free?”

“Well, I still had to pay for the service, of course. I just got help with the reservation. Yubin-ah just lives around here, that’s all.”

Junghoon’s longtime coworker and friend. Honggi knows the name too well, so hearing that didn’t bother him for too long. “Ah, right…” He waits outside until she finally exits the room, unveiling her curves in a bright-colored swimsuit that makes his jaw drop. “Woah… So, umm… You and Chae have done this before?”

“Oppa…” Jiwoo rests her hands on his chest, looking up to him with her “puppy face.” “You gotta stop comparing my moments with unnie. Have you already forgotten ours?”

“You’re right. Mianhae, Jiyu-yah… I just got a little curious, that’s all.” Also nervous. And yet her question makes him recall their first few mischievous adventures. The club. The park. The restaurant and the bathroom. Their first time at the couch and their bed. The shower. They were special and memorable to both him and her.

“No, no… It’s okay.” The woman slowly trails her fingers around him. “But if it boggles your mind that badly, we’ve had similar moments in a place like this… Elsewhere.”

“Wow…” is the only response he can puff out, paralyzed and aroused by her advances.

She giggles again. “Just so you know, I got this room just for us in the next three hours. We can even extend, if you’d like.”

His throat gulps, a sound even Jiwoo hears, forming her wider smile of amusement.

“Hmm…” She helps him take off his shirt, her nose trails on his chest with craving. “There’s no one stopping us, understand?”

Honggi his straightens his posture and clears his throat. “Turn around,” he commands.

Jiwoo giggles at his request, but she does it with elegance, putting on a teasing show.

He nods in silence, yet his cock stands impatient at her presence, like they’re magnets. And so, Honggi pins her to the wall, unleashing his lust once more with their own lips crashing, their saliva exchanging with hunger, like drooling vampires in that one film that blew their minds during their viewing at her place. Honggi’s not the bitiest in bed, yet his behavior only enthralls Jiwoo to remain submissive, in spite of her many teases. Even from the veils of their clothing, the man’s shaft hits his partner’s tight opening as he leans closer.

Just in time, the water has been filled to the brim, overflowing on the tiles until Honggi turns it off. Their excitement, not realizing that all their undergarments are on the floor. Much to Jiwoo’s surprise, her lust-driven boyfriend carries her to the swimming spa in a bridal manner, their lips and tongues remaining intact until they make contact with the cold water. With both parties standing on the five-foot spa, Jiwoo braces herself for this not-so-long-awaited reentry as Honggi removes his soaked boxer, throwing it at the edge of the spa, before he slowly holds onto his lover in his arms with a soft giggle. Same as before, Honggi has her cornered into the spa’s edge. But it’s a spot where she prefers to be in, knowing how wild she can react at his touch.

The shivers of excitement spread through her skin while she allows him to stretch her panties, leaving an opening to her cunt for his rod. As she pulls him closer with his cock wrapped around her fingers, her breathing becomes ragged, leaning into his ear. “Have I been… a good girl… Daddy?”

His mind splinters into questions, fueled by his curiosity and libido dancing like tango. How can someone be this cute and hot at the same time? Handsome, even though that one’s a thought he’ll keep to himself for now. And funny, naughty, and witty, and—

With his cock entering her folds, he begins his thrusts, taking his time to accelerate his pace and speed through her tight walls while the insatiable tension makes Jiwoo wrap her arms around his shoulders as moans grow. Within several seconds, their turbulent yet ecstatic union reverberates throughout this shallow spa they’re indulging in, causing splashes with every push and pull like waves crashing into a shore, as Honggi plunges in and out within her under the water’s pressure until his tip reaches her cervix.

“You—auuggghhhh—haven’t answered meee—yet, oppa,” she adds between her hollers of approval while her body trembles with the rhythm of her lover’s powerful poundings. And this time, he’s heard her question much, much clearer. For a millisecond, Jiwoo’s nails dig into his bare skin, which triggers a groan of pain from Honggi, only for her to shift her grip into the spa’s handrails while her head arches back with her tongue out, staring at the clouds through the window ahead, with a much louder range of moans.

“Nggggnnnyeeaaasss!” the man groans, holding onto her waist while he keeps plowing her with most of his strength for now. “You are, baby! Just—fu—the—fucking—bbest!”

The longer her tongue is sticking out with bliss, Jiwoo begins drooling down to her chin. In turn, Honggi’s lust reaches in to lick it off, as they once more kiss with burning fervor, feeling like they’re making out amidst an earthquake. “Opp…auuuggghh! You’ve always been—doing me—auuuggghhh—so, goooood… No other cock… has—ahh—done better!”

He doesn’t know how to feel, hearing those words either boost or bruise his ego, but he can now feel the pressure building up halfway through as Jiwoo’s is not far away either.

Surrounded by the waves of cold water, Honggi bursts deep inside Jiwoo's warm womb. Their moans that keep echoing through the room fade out second by second, becoming gasps for breath. He keeps arms around hers in a tender embrace where she pulls him tighter with her remaining strength, while her boyfriend’s seed either goes into her, or mixes in with the runny water. They rest their foreheads on one another, yet their desire for each other has yet to falter. “Up for more, daddy?” Jiwoo pants.

Honggi pulls out of her, inciting a squeak from the woman, despite already planning to try out another position. “You know my answer, baby.”

= = =

“Fuuuuuuck, you’re ama…amazing!” Honggi keeps his hand on her waist, with his other interlocked with Jiwoo’s, while she indulges in being impaled by his cock while he leans on the edge of the spa. They have never felt more unified in heart, mind, and body. “I’m clo--ose, baby,” he growls.

“Mee--mee too, daddy! Toget--her, jebal!” the woman pleads while her back arches one last time at the pressure and sensation of her juices swimming their way out of her folds.

More than a hundred-twenty minutes and a dozen positions have passed, she now rides him on the corner of the spa without inhibition. At the woman’s final thrust on his cock, Honggi cums inside her for the nth time, mainly because neither of them had ever kept track of their climax throughout this summer afternoon. This was a day of relaxation, and everything more, after all. Although, their twitching bodies are begging for them. Begging to stop. Take a break or just stop for today, if they have to.

“Jiwoo-yah… I think…” Honggi continues to catch his breath. “I, uhh, think—”

“Yeah,” Jiwoo exhales with a chuckle, bending down to reach his face. “Timeout, it is.”

The pair remain seated at the shallowest coping of the spa, their bodies huddled right next to each other while they stare at the city through the window in their moment of silence, with their bottles of premium iced tea, courtesy of the room’s fridge, as well as the bag of chips and bowl of salsa they’ve ordered through room service. Jiwoo’s head has been leaning on Honggi’s right shoulder, something that soothes the latter as much as she feels, strangely enough. “Jiyu, uhh, I…” he tries to form his thoughts to her.

Jiwoo turns to face him, her right hand holding his left underwater. “What is it, oppa?”

He rarely gets shy when opening up. “I, umm… Really love being with you, Jiwoo-yah…”

The woman answers him, not with words, but with her warm lips. It's not the words she had expected, but perhaps he's not ready to say the exact phrase to her, as they both say to Chaeyeon often. He thinks saying it would've sounded too rash and impulsive, but if anything, their actions speak more. “Ditto,” she answers him back with a soft snortle. Still enamored by each other’s face and body, Honggi crashes his lips onto hers once again. With both smiles forming while their lips lock, they’ve returned to cloud nine.

They still got an hour more, but another idea lingers on Honggi’s mind. Remembering Chaeyeon’s words, something less sensual and more innocent, yet just as stimulating comes up to him. His dick may be something that she’s been craving for a while, but Honggi wants to think less with it as they relax for the remainder of the afternoon.

He parts his lips from hers. “Do you wanna head back to the apartment? I know it’s still 2 P.M., but there are new releases out on streaming. I was wondering if you’d like to—”

“No need to ask me twice, oppa…” Jiwoo lets out a snicker, placing her right cheek on her palm, her gaze still long drawn into his eyes and red cheeks. “If you want a movie marathon, maybe we can order, bring some food home.”

She understands his language, seeing the calmness in her gaze slowly grow into wonder. “Huh. I’d actually like that… And Chaeyeon-unnie can catch up too. She did say she’ll be finishing a little earlier today.”

Practically read his mind, even. He pulls his hand, still interlocked with Jiwoo’s, out of the water as he shakes both their hands with excitement. “Ah… Now you’re talking!”

Two hours and thirty minutes have passed. The couple had since returned to their place. The television has been on for a while, as vibrant colors flash through the screen, as well as animated characters. They decided to binge-watch some animated movies neither of them have watched—or in Jiwoo’s case, rewatch—in the last few years. They planned to start with a Disney marathon, but something else caught their attention first. A movie that’s relatively more recent than most since it’s only six years old, yet remains relevant.

“Focus is good, but focusing on one part leads to ignoring other—” says the character from the screen only known as Healer Han to the three fictional idols. Honggi guesses he’s working for the “purple fire demon,” but Jiwoo shuts him up with a chicken drum shoved straight to his mouth.

The coffee table in front of them has a tray of chicken wings and tteokbokki with a tissue box on the side. In the dining room, the table has unopened containers of food, enough for four people for tonight. Two bottles of iced tea, one of which is already half empty. Some of the meals include small containers of tteokbokki, alongside curry spring rolls, kimbap, and beef lettuce wraps, each of which they have only had a quarter of. “This is really good!” Jiwoo laughs at the screen while chewing on a rice cake on her chopstick.

“The food or the movie?” Honggi finishes the honey garlic drum off his fingers clean.

“I think it’s both,” she chuckles. “It’s like they're complementary or something.”

Honggi passes her a sheet of tissue. “Right?!” Jiwoo uses it to wipe the stain on his lips. 

Both touched and confused by the gesture, Honggi gets another one to wipe her own stain off, his head shaking in disbelief. “That was meant for you, but thanks.”

The door is unlocked with a keycard, as the two hear from their seat. As the couple had expected, Chayeon enters the door with her handbag, finding a view that amazes her in the best way. “Babe!” Honggi waves her hand high alongside Jiwoo. “Join us.”

“Omo, omo… This is not what I expected,” Chaeyeon whispers to herself while slowly scratching her hair with curiosity. “I thought you two were out at the swimming pool?”

“Yeah, but… We decided to just hang out back here. Oppa really wanted to wait for you.”

“Yah…” Honggi flicks Jiwoo’s ear with a suppressed grin. “You’re the one who said that.”

“Oww!” Jiwoo flinches, immediately catching his hands as she pulls him in. “You little…”

“Awww…” the older woman coos at their slight bickering, before walking towards them on the sofa while laughing.

In retaliation to both her cheeks being pinched, Jiwoo smacks Honggi’s thigh. “Ah! Don’t tell me you’re turned on by us fighting, Chae.”

“I would’ve, but I’m honestly too tired to do something.” Chaeyeon sits on the sofa, occupying the gap that the two had provided. Like they’d shared a thought for their queen while she caresses each of their hands. “I’m just happy both of you are here.”

Jiwoo interlocks her fingers with her girlfriend, resting on her neck. “So are we, unnie.”

“Besides, I can’t miss any more of this film,” Chaeyeon grumbles, taking a piece of the spring roll into her mouth. “It’s due for a rewatch!”

“Want us to go back to the start?” suggests Honggi as he picks up the remote from the table, and by the look on her enthusiastic smile, Jiwoo doesn’t mind it either.

“Oh, no!” the older woman takes the remote from his hand, slowly placing it back. “No, don’t repeat it, babe… We can choose another movie later, hmm?”

As Chaeyeon joins Jiwoo and Honggi, there are no makeout sessions. No sex. Not at the moment, anyway. As of this afternoon, the food and film, the exchange of usual quippy banters or surprise heartfelt compliments, and the embrace and grateful presence of each other’s arms will be enough for these three to feel at home.

= = =

apologies if it may not be as fleshed out or polished, at least as much as I wanted it, but I didn't realize that this 'spa plot' would take longer words lol, even as a quick chapter. I'm just glad I managed to finish it to begin with. that's pretty much it, and I hope you have a great day!

[iskandersmuts]

Mothery

Jisun x Male Reader

synopsis: You're 18 year old boy lusts for your youthful mom, Jisun. After she catches your fantasizing, you're two give in to forbidden desire.

t/w: incest, angst, lactating

Your mom, Jisun, is in her mid-forties, but you'd never guess it by looking at her.

She's bustling around the kitchen, her petite frame moving with a grace that defies her age. Her face is smooth, still carries a youthful vibe, like she's hacked time.

Her body that you can't ignore, no matter how hard you try. Curvy, tight, with full breasts that barely hold against her fitted blouse and a round, firm ass that sways in her jeans as she bends to grab something from a low cabinet.

You catch yourself staring, your pulse quickening, and immediately look away, guilt twisting in your gut.

She's your mom, for fuck's sake, but you're a man, and your body doesn't care about right or wrong when she's around.

"Hey, sweetie, you hungry?" You mom calls you out, she straightens up, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her blouse pulling tight across her chest.

You swallow hard, forcing your eyes to the TV, some random sports game you're not really watching, "No mom, I'm good," you mutter, you shift on the couch, adjusting yourself, hoping she doesn't notice the growing bulge in your shorts.

She walks over, holding a glass of iced tea, her hips swaying just enough to make your jaw clench.

"You sure? I was thinking of making those sandwiches you like," she says, smiling, leaning forward slightly to set the glass on the coffee table. The angle gives you a sight of her cleavage, her breasts round and perfect, and your cock twitches, heat flooding your body.

You cross your legs, cursing yourself, trying to focus on anything else, the game, the weather, fucking math. "N-not in the mood mom... maybe later," you manage, your eyes flicking to her face, then away, too fast.

She tilts her head, studying you, and for a second, you're terrified she's caught on. But she just shrugs, her smile soft, and heads back to the kitchen, her ass bouncing lightly with each step.

You let out a shaky breath, your hand running through your hair. This isn't new, you've been fighting these thoughts for a while, ever since you hit your late teens and started noticing her as more than just Mom. It's wrong, disgusting even, but every time she's near, it's like your brain short circuits.

You grab your phone, scrolling, trying to distract yourself, but your mind keeps drifting back to her, the way she smells faintly of jasmine.

You're hard now, uncomfortably so, and you know you need to get out of here before you do something stupid.

"I'm gonna take a shower," you call out, standing abruptly, keeping your back to the kitchen as you head upstairs.

Her voice follows you, "Okay, sweetie," and it's so normal, so innocent, it makes the guilt cut deeper.

In the bathroom, you lock the door, stripping fast, your cock springing free, aching. Under the hot shower, you try to focus on the water, the tiles, anything, but all you see is her, Jisun, your mom, bending over, her blouse tight, her ass perfect.

You grip your cock, hating how good it feels, hating that it's her face in your mind as you stroke, fast and rough, imagining her under you.

It's over quick, your cum hitting the shower wall, and you lean against it, panting, shame washing over you. She's your mom, and you're a fucking mess.

It's Monday evening, and you're seated at the dinner table, the clink of cutlery against plates filling the quiet.

Your mom, she's serving food, she passes you a plate of roasted chicken. Your dad, a gruff man in his late forties, sits across from you, focused on his meal.

He'll leaving again, some work assignment that'll keep him gone for weeks. It's nothing new, his job often pulls him away, leaving you and you mom alone in the house. No siblings, just the two of you.

"Another trip, huh?" Your mom says, her voice soft but tinged with resignation as she sits down, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Her dress shifts, revealing a hint of cleavage, and you force your eyes to your plate, your grip on the fork tightening.

"Yeah, duty calls," your dad grumbles, barely looking up. "Three weeks, maybe four. I'll know more tomorrow."

He's used to this, and so is she, but you can see the subtle slump in her shoulders. You, on the other hand, feel a twisted heat rising.

Weeks alone with her. Just you and Jisun, in this house, "Sorry, sweetie," Jisun says, turning to you with that gentle smile that makes your chest ache. “Guess it’s just us again.” Her hand brushes yours as she passes the mashed potatoes.

Your cock stirs, and you shift in your seat, hoping no one notices. "It's fine," you mutter, your voice rough, shoving a bite of chicken in your mouth to avoid saying more.

Your dad doesn't seem to care, already talking about logistics, schedules. All you can focus on is her, Jisun, leaning forward to grab the salt, her dress dipping to show the curve of her breasts, full and perfect. You imagine what they’d feel like in your hands, soft and heavy, and your erection presses painfully against your jeans.

After dinner, your dad heads to the living room to watch the news, leaving you to help you mom clear the table. She's at the sink, washing dishes, her hips swaying slightly as she scrubs. You stand beside her, drying, trying not to stare at her ass, the way her dress clings to it.

"You don't have to help, you know," she says, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "Go relax."

"It's okay, I can help," you say, too quickly, your eyes flicking to her chest before you catch yourself. She doesn't notice, or maybe she does, but she keeps washing, humming softly.

She is so close, you imagine pushing her against the counter, lifting her dress, fucking her right there, her moans filling the kitchen. Your cock throbs, and you turn away, pretending to focus on the plate in your hands.

It's a Tuesday night, you're sprawled on your bed. Your dad's been gone for days, his work trip leaving you and your mom, alone.

You're hard now, lying in the dark, sweatpants pushed down, your hand wrapped around your cock. You try to think of anything else, porn, random girls, but your mind keeps slipping to her. Jisun, your mom.

Her smooth skin, her jasmine scent, the way her dress hugged her curves at dinner. You stroke faster, eyes closed, moaning her name, "Jisun... fuck, mom..." imagining her under you, her tits in your hands, her pussy tight around you. It's wrong, so fucking wrong, but it feels too good to stop, your breaths ragged as you edge closer.

You don't hear the door creak open. You don't notice her standing there, frozen in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth, eyes wide with shock. Your mom had come to check on you, maybe to ask if you wanted a late-night snack, but now she's watching her son jerk off, moaning her name.

You're lost in your fantasy, hips bucking into your hand, until you open your eyes and see her. Your stomach drops, panic seizing you as you scramble to pull up your sweatpants, your face burning.

"Mom, I... I can explain!" you stammer, sitting up, your voice shaking as you fumble with the waistband. She's still standing there, her hand trembling over her mouth, her eyes glistening with a mix of disbelief and something you can't read, hurt, maybe, confusion or disappointed.

You're caught, exposed, and the words spill out before you can stop them, "It's your fault, okay? You're too fucking hot, walking around like that, your body... I can't help it! I'm a man, Mom, and I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

The words blatant in the air, raw and ugly, and you see her flinch, her breath catching like you've slapped her.

Her hand drops, her lips parting, but no words come out at first.

"Don't say that," she finally whispers, her voice trembling, her eyes wet.

"Don't blame me for... for this," she gestures at you, her face a mix of pain and shame "I'm your mother."

You're shaking, guilt and lust warring inside you, but her reaction, her hurt, cuts deeper than you expected.

"I didn't mean it like that," you backtrack, your voice softer, desperate. "I just... I can't stop thinking about you. You're driving me crazy."

Your eyes flick to her, standing there in a loose nightgown, her nipples faintly visible, and your cock twitches again, betraying you even now.

She takes a shaky breath, stepping closer, her hands wringing together. "This is wrong," she says, barely a whisper.

"You know that. But... I don't want you to feel like... this is my fault. I'm your mom, this isn't supposed to happen," she pauses, her eyes searching yours, and you see something shift, resolve, maybe, or pity.

"If you take it back, if you stop blaming me... I'll help you."

"Help me how?" You're confused, but your pulse race.

She takes a shaky breath, stepping closer, her bare feet silent on the floor. "This... thing you're feeling," she says, her voice low, almost a whisper. "It's not right, but I don't want you to suffer. I'm your mother. I'll fix it."

Her eyes flick down, just for a second, to the bulge in your sweatpants, and you swear you see her cheeks flush before she looks away. "But you can't blame me again. Promise me."

"I promise," you say quickly. You don't know what she's offering, but the heat in your body doesn't care. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to..."

"Lie back." She snaps. Her hand touches your shoulder, gently pushing you down.

Your heart's bumping, your cock throbbing as you obey, lying back, your eyes never leaving her.

She hesitates, her hands hovering over you, then slowly reaches for your sweatpants. "This is to help you," she whispers, her fingers hook the waistband, pulling them down. Your cock springs free, hard.

She gasps softly, her eyes widening before she looks away, her face flushed, "Oh, God," she mutters, but she doesn't stop, her hand trembling as it wraps around you.

"Mom," you groan, your hips bucking instinctively, and she flinches but doesn't pull away.

She's stroking you slowly, her grip tightening. "Just... let me help." Her hand moves faster but warm, and you're lost in it, the sight of her, your mom, Jisun, her nightgown slipping to reveal her cleavage, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Jisun..." you moan, and her hand falters, her eyes meeting yours.

"Don’t call me that," she whispers, but she doesn't stop, her other hand resting on your thigh, steadying herself.

You're panting, the guilt drowning in pleasure, and when you cum, it's sudden, intense, spilling over her hand as you groan, "Mom, fuck."

She pulls back, her hand sticky, her breathing uneven, staring at the mess like she can't believe what she's done.

"I'm sorry,"you gasp, sitting up, but she shakes her head, standing quickly, wiping her hand on her nightgown.

"It's okay," she says, her voice barely audible. "We won't talk about this again."

She turns to leave, leaving you alone, your body sated but your mind a wreck, knowing you've pushed her too far and craving her even more.

You can't let her leave, not like this, not when every fiber of you screams for her, your cock hard again, firmer than before.

"Mom, it's not helping,” you call out, before she can leave away.

She freezes, turning slowly, "What?" she whispers, "You... how can it not be enough?" She glances down, seeing your erection straining again, bigger, harder than before, and her hand covers her mouth again, disbelief across her face.

"It wants your pussy, Mom," you say, the words spilling out, unfiltered, your shame buried under the burning need.

Her breath catches, a sharp gasp, "Don't say that!" she snaps, her voice breaking, but she doesn't move, rooted to the spot, her nightgown outlining her full breasts, her round ass.

"Okay... let me do something," she murmurs, almost to herself, stepping back into the room.

She climbs onto your bed, her knees sinking into the mattress, her nightgown riding up to reveal smooth thighs. She's close now, her jasmine scent filling your senses, her eyes locked on your cock, wide and unblinking.

"Fuck, this is my son's cock... how is it so big? It's wrong, but it's... it's bigger than his dad's."

Her voices barely a whisper, muttering to herself, amazed yet guilty seeing your cock.

"Mom," you groan, sitting up, your cock aching as you reach for her. She flinches but doesn't pull away, her hands hovering, unsure.

"I can't stop wanting you," you say low, "You're too fucking perfect."

Her cheeks flush, her lips parting, but she doesn't speak, her eyes flicking between your face and your erection, "This is wrong," she whispers, but her hand moves, trembling, wrapping around you again, stroking slowly. "So wrong..." Her touch is firmer this time, her fingers sliding over your length, and you groan, hips bucking.

She bites her lip, her nightgown slipping off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her breast, her nipple hard through the fabric. "I'm just helping," she says, like she's convincing herself, but her strokes quicken, her other hand resting on your thigh, her nails digging in.

"It's not enough," you growl, grabbing her wrist, pulling her closer. She gasps, falling forward, her body pressed against yours, her tits soft against your chest. "I need you, Mom. All of you."

Her eyes widen, fear and desire warring, but you don't wait, your hands sliding under her nightgown, gripping her ass, pulling her onto your lap.

She straddles you, her pussy brushing your cock through her panties, and she moans softly, "Oh, God," her body trembling, betraying her.

"You feel it too," you say, your hands squeezing her, your cock throbbing against her panties.

She shakes her head, "No, we can't," but her hips move, grinding slightly, her hips shift, grinding against your cock, her wetness seeping through her panties, betraying her.

You feel it, hot and slick, and your hands tighten on her ass, squeezing the firm, "You're lying," you growl, your voice rough with need. "You want this too."

She shakes her head, but her moan escapes, soft and desprate, as you pull her closer, your cock pressing harder against her heat.

"Please," she murmurs, her voice breaking, "I'm your mother." Her hand down low, start stroking, slow and unsteady, her fingers slick with your precum. You groan, hips bucking meeting her movement.

"Use your mouth, Mom, please," you say, the words unfiltered.

Her breath catches, a sharp swallow, her eyes locking on your cock, thick and straining in her hand. She hesitates, her lips parting, then biting down hard, her cheeks flushing as she fights herself, but the way her thighs clench betrays how your words turn her on.

"This is so wrong," she whispers, as she shifts, sliding off your lap, her nightgown slipping to reveal one perfect breast, nipple hard. She kneels between your legs, her hands shaking as they rest on your thighs.

"Just... to help you," she murmurs, leaning forward, her breath hot against your cock.

You groan, "Fuck, Mom," as her lips brush the tip, tentative, then bolder, her tongue flicking out, tasting you.

She moans softly, "Oh, God," her voice muffled as she takes you deeper, her mouth warm and wet, her lips stretching around you.

You tangle your fingers in her hair, guiding her, your hips bucking as she sucks, her tongue swirling, her moans vibrating against you, "You're so good," you growl, and she whimpers, her eyes fluttering shut, her hand stroking what her mouth can't take.

Her nightgown falls further, exposing her tits, bouncing slightly as she moves, and you're lost, the guilt drowned by pleasure. She pulls back, gasping, "We shouldn't," but her lips are back at it, hungrier, and you know she's too far gone to stop.

You pull her up gently but firmly, she's sitting on the bed now, close enough around you, her curves pressed against you, her breath hitching.

You lean in, your lips brushing her ear, your voice low and rough with desire. "You're so fucking beautiful, Mom," you whisper, and she shivers, her cheeks flushing deeper. You can't stop, the words spilling out, dirty.

"I wonder why I don't have a sibling. Dad didn't fuck you enough?"

Her breath catches, a soft gasp, her eyes widening as she mutters, "Don't say that to your mother..." Her voice is shaky, her face burning.

You grab her chin, tilting her face to meet yours, her lips parted, trembling. "You made me, Mom," you say. "Now I'm yours. You can use me, if Dad can't..."

"Sweetie..." she starts, but before she can finish, you kiss her, hard and hungry, your tongue pushing past her lips. She stiffens, her hands pressing against your chest, but then she melts, a soft moan escaping as she kisses you back, her fingers curling into your shirt. Her mouth is warm, and you taste your own precum on her lips, making you groan into her.

You pull her closer, her tits pressing against you, your hands sliding under her nightgown to grip her ass, squeezing hard, her hips grind against you, her panties soaked.

You break the kiss, your lips trailing to her neck, sucking lightly, making her moan, "Oh, God, no..." her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer, her breaths coming faster.

"You want this," you murmur against her skin, your hand slipping between her thighs, finding her pussy, wet and hot through her panties.

She whimpers, "Please, it's wrong," but her legs part, giving you access, and you push her panties aside, your fingers sliding inside her, tight and slick.

"You're so wet, mom..." you growl, and she's trembling, her moans louder now, "Yes, oh, shit," as you curl your fingers, hitting just the right spot.

You pull your fingers out, and you push her back onto the bed, her legs falling open as she gasps, "What are you?"

You don't answer, your hands spreading her thighs wide, ripping her panties down to expose her completely.

Her pussy is beautiful, pink, glistening, framed by soft curls, and you pause, expecting something else, maybe a faint musk from your crude fantasies, but no. It smells fresh, clean, intoxicating, beyond anything you imagined.

"Fuck, Mom," you groan, your voice rough, and you dive in, your tongue licking a slow stripe up her slit.

She cries out, "Oh, God, no!" but her hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, her hips bucking as you taste her, sweet and heady, the very hole you came from. It's wrong, so fucking wrong, but it's perfect, and you shove your tongue deeper, lapping at her clit, sucking gently.

"Sweetie, please," she moans, her voice breaking, but her thighs clamp around your head, her body melting under you. "Fuck, it's too much," she gasps, her fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on as you devour her, your tongue swirling, dipping inside her, tasting every inch.

Her pussy's so wet, dripping down your chin, and you groan against her, the vibration making her cry out, "Yes, oh, shit!" Her resistance is gone, her body arching, her tits bouncing as she grinds against your mouth.

"You taste so fucking good," you growl, pulling back just enough to look at her, her face flushed, eyes half-closed, lips parted in a desperate moan. "Better than I dreamed."

She whimpers, "Don't say that," her hips buck harder, chasing your tongue as you dive back in, sucking her clit, your fingers sliding inside her, curling to hit that spot that makes her scream, "Fuck, I'm...!" Her pussy clenches, her orgasm crashing through her, her moans loud and unrestrained, "Yes, yes, I'm cumming!"

You don't stop, licking her through it, her juices coating your face, her body shaking as she collapses back, panting. You climb up, your cock aching, and kiss her again, letting her taste herself on your lips. She moans into you, her hands clutching you, completely melted.

You pull back from the kiss, her lips swollen, "Fuck, Mom," you groan, your cock throbbing, hard and leaking pre-cum as you hover over her.

Her breasts, full and perfect, catch your eye, nipples hard and pink, begging for attention. You can't resist. You slide up, straddling her chest, your hands reaching for her tits, pressing them together, their softness filling your palms.

"So fucking massive," you mutter, your voice rough, as you squeeze them.

Jisun gasps, her hands gripping the sheets, her voice shaky. "Sweetie, no, we can't keep going," she murmurs, but her eyes are locked on your cock, inches from her face, the tip glistening with precum.

She bites her lip, her thighs pressing together, you don't listen, too far gone, your cock sliding between her breasts, the soft, warm flesh enveloping you as you thrust slowly, coating her skin with your precum.

"Oh, God," she whispers, her voice trembling, but she doesn't push you away, her hands hesitating before resting on your thighs, her nails digging in slightly.

You groan, “Fuck, your tits feel so good," pressing them tighter around your cock, the slickness of your precum making each thrust smoother, her breasts glistening as you fuck them.

Her moans are soft, "This is wrong," but her eyes are dark with desire, watching your cock slide between her curves, her breath hitching with each movement.

You lean forward, your hands still gripping her tits, your thumbs brushing her nipples, making her gasp, "Oh, shit." Her body arches slightly, pushing her breasts against you.

You thrust harder, the tip of your cock grazing her chin, leaving a trail of precum.

"You like this, don't you?" you growl.

She shakes her head, "No, we shouldn't," but her moans betray her, her hands sliding up your thighs, urging you on despite herself.

You don't cum, not yet, savoring the sight of her, your mom, Jisun, her tits coated with your precum. You slow your thrusts, pulling back, your cock still hard, aching for more.

She's panting, her breasts slick and shining, her eyes meeting yours, a mix of fear and want. "We have to stop," she whispers.

You slide up her chest, your cock rock hard, throbbing, glistening with her saliva and your precum. You display it proudly, inches from her face, swaying slightly to draw her gaze. "You want me to stop, Mom?" you ask, your voice low, seductive, laced with challenge.

Her cheeks burn a deep red, and she turns her face away, but her eyes betray her, flicking back to your cock, wide and hungry. She bites her finger, shy yet undeniably aroused, and fuck, she's hotter than ever like this, blushing, torn, her youthful beauty amplified by her shame.

"You want this to stop? In front of my big cock?" you press closer, your erection brushing her cheek.

She flinches, her breath hitching, but her glance lingers, her lips parting slightly, "Sweetie, stop..." she murmurs, her voice weak, trembling.

You don't wait, you grab her head, fingers tangling in her soft hair, and pull her forward, guiding your cock to her mouth, "Open," you growl, and she hesitates, her eyes wide, but her lips part just enough.

You thrust in, her mouth warm and wet, her tongue instinctively pressing against you as you push deeper.

She gags softly, "Mmph," her hands grabbing your thighs, but she doesn't pull away, her moan vibrating around your cock, sending a jolt through you.

"Fuck, Mom," you groan, fucking her mouth, slow at first, then harder, your hips rocking as you grip her hair tighter. Her eyes water, but she's sucking now, her lips stretching around you, her tongue swirling, taking you deeper with each thrust.

"So fucking good," you mutter, watching her, her mouth full of your cock, her breasts bouncing slightly as you move.

She moans again, "Mmm," her hands sliding up your thighs, nails digging in, and you know she’s melting, her resistance crumbling.

You thrust harder, hitting the back of her throat, making her gag, but she keeps going, her eyes half-closed, lost in the act.

You don't cum, not yet, her mouth stuffed. Pull out, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock, and she gasps, panting.

"Sweetie, please," she whispers, her voice shaky, "we have to stop." But there's no strength in her words, only a more plea drowned by the way her body responds, her nipples hard, her pussy glistening beneath her torn panties.

"You don't want me to stop," you say low, you shift back her lap, straddling her hips.

You lean down, your lips brushing her ear, whispering, "You're too fucking perfect, Mom. I need more."

She shudders, a soft moan escaping, "No, we can't," her hands grip your arms, not pushing you away, her body arching slightly toward you.

Your hands find her breasts again, full and heavy, pressing them together as you slide your cock between them, the slickness of your precum making each thrust smooth.

She gasps, "Oh, God," her eyes fluttering shut, her hands clutching the sheets.

You notice a faint bead of white at her nipple, and your breath catches, milk, unexpected, but there it is, a drop glistening against her skin.

"Fuck, Mom," you groan, your thumb brushing over her nipple, coaxing another drop, and she moans, "No, don't," but her back arches, offering herself despite her words.

You lean down, your tongue flicking out, tasting the sweet, warm liquid, and it's intoxicating, makes your cock throb harder. "So fucking good," you mutter, sucking gently, drawing more from her, her moans growing louder, "Oh, shit, sweetie, no." Her hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, her body trembling as you alternate between her breasts, licking, sucking, the milk coating your lips as you thrust between her tits, your cock slick and aching.

"You love this, your son milking you as a baby again," you growl, pulling back to look at her, her face flushed, eyes half-closed, lost in pleasure.

You squeeze her breasts harder, a few drops spilling, and you rub your cock against them, coating her skin with more precum.

You shift, sliding down her body, your hands gripping her thighs, spreading them wide. Her pussy is glistening, pink and swollen from your fingers and tongue, her wetness dripping onto the sheets.

She's panting, her breasts heaving, a bead of milk still clinging to one nipple, and you groan, your cock rock-hard, throbbing with need.

"Sweetie, no! we can't," she whispers, her voice trembling, but her thighs don't close, her eyes locked on your cock as you position yourself between her legs.

You don't respond, your hands sliding under her ass, lifting her slightly as you line up your cock with her pussy, the tip brushing her wet folds.

"Fuck, Mom," you murmur, your voice rough, as you drag your cock along her slit, teasing her clit, her wetness coating you.

She gasps, "Please, don't," her hips twitch, pushing toward you, her body betraying her words.

You thrust slow, deliberate, the head of your cock slipping inside her, tight and hot, and she cries out, "Oh, God!"

Her pussy clenches around you, pulling you deeper, and you groan, inching in, savoring the way she feels, like she was made for you.

"No, we shouldn't," she moans, her hands gripping the sheets, but her legs wrap around you, urging you on despite her protests.

You push deeper, slow and steady, her pussy stretching around you, wet and perfect. "You're so tight," you growl, your hands squeezing her hips, pulling her into each thrust.

Her moans grow louder, "Fuck, sweetie, it's too much,” but her hips rock with you, meeting every slow, deep stroke, her body melting under you.

"You want this, don't you?" you say, leaning down, your lips brushing her ear as you thrust again, deeper, making her gasp, "Yes, oh, shit!"

Her pussy's dripping, and you feel her clench harder, her body trembling as you push her closer to the edge.

"Say it," you demand, your voice dark, and she whimpers, "I... fuck, I want it." Her admission breaks something in you, and you thrust harder, still slow but relentless, her moans turning to cries, "Oh, God, yes!"

You speed up, your cock slamming into her harder, her pussy clenches around you, hot and slick, pulling you deeper with every thrust.

The bed creaks, her thighs trembling around your waist, her nails digging into your back. You lean in, your lips brushing her ear, your breath ragged as you growl, "Mom, I love you, fuck!"

She's panting, her breasts bouncing with each hard thrust, her eyes half-closed, dazed with pleasure. "Sweetie... I love you too, but..." she gasps, her voice breaking, "fuck, this is... wrong... but..."

Her words trail off into a moan, "Oh, shit!" as you hit deeper, your cock filling her completely, her pussy gripping you like she never wants to let go.

You thrust faster, your hands gripping her hips, leaving marks on her soft skin.

"Say it again," you demand, your voice rough, leaning down to suck her nipple, tasting the faint sweetness of her milk.

She cries out, "Fuck, I love you!" her hands tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as her body arches, her pussy dripping, soaking the sheets.

"It's wrong, but... don't stop," she moans, her hips bucking to meet your thrusts, her moans turning to screams, "Yes, fuck, harder!"

You pounding into her, your cock throbbing as her pussy clenches, her orgasm building fast, your hand sliding to her clit, rubbing hard, making her wail, "Oh, God, I'm cumming!"

Her body shaking, her pussy squeezing you so tight you nearly lose it, her screams filling the room as she comes, her juices coating your cock.

You keep going, not stopping, her moans driving you wild, her body trembling beneath you.

You're close, but you don't want this to end, not yet. You slow just enough to keep control, leaning down to kiss her, her lips soft and desperate against yours.

"I love you," she whispers again, tears in her eyes, her body still moving with yours.

You pull out, and you grab her hips, flipping her onto her stomach. "Get up," you order, and she obeys, her body trembling as she lifts her ass up.

Her round, firm ass is perfect, begging for you, and you slap it hard.

She moans, "Fuck, yes!" her tongue lolling out, her face pressed into the sheets, completely lost in the pleasure.

You slap her ass again, harder, and she yelps, "More!" her hips pushing back.

You line up your cock, thrusting into her pussy, deep, making her scream, "Oh, God, sweetie!"

Her pussy's tighter from this angle, gripping you, you pound into her, each thrust shaking her body, her tits swaying beneath her. Your hand slides to her ass, your thumb brushing her tight butthole, and she gasps, "No, not there!" but her moan betrays her, her body arching as you shove two fingers into her ass, stretching her.

"Fuck!" she cries, she's pushing her back, taking your fingers deeper, loving it.

You pull her hair, yanking her head back, her tongue out, drooling, her eyes rolling as she loses herself to every thrust.

"You love this, Mom," you growl, your fingers fucking her ass in rhythm with your cock in her pussy, her moans mumbled now, "Yes, fuck, I do!"

She's gone, completely, her body shaking, her pussy clenching as another orgasm builds. You slap her ass again, the red marks glowing, and she screams, "I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming!"

Her pussy spasms, her ass tightening around your fingers, her whole body shaking as she cums, her juices dripping down her thighs.

You can't hold back, the sight of her pushing you over the edge. You pull out, stroking fast, and cum hard, thick ropes spilling across her ass, dripping down to her pussy. She slumps forward, her body limp, but her ass stays raised, like an offering.

She's panting, whimpering, "Sweetie..." her voice barely audible, her eyes closed, overwhelmed.

You collapse beside her, your chest heaving, guilt crashing in but drowned by the sight of her, your mom, broken, the line between you shattered forever.

She's turns slowly, her eyes barely there, glazed over with a wild, crazed hunger. She's lost herself completely, drowned by the pleasure you've forced upon her.

She crawls toward you, her breasts swaying, her lips parted, her tongue darting out as she reaches for your cock, still hard, slick with her juices and your cum.

"My son's cock," she murmurs, low, broken, "fuck... I’'m sucking it. I'm such a bad mother, taking my own son, but I love this, mmmh..." she wraps her hand around you, guiding your cock to her mouth.

You groan, "Fuck, Mom," as her lips close around you, warm and wet, her tongue swirling over the tip.

She moans, a deep, throaty "Mmmh," her eyes fluttering shut as she takes you deeper, her mouth stretching to your size. She's sucking hard, her head bobbing, her hand stroking what she can't take.

You grab her head, fisting her hair, your hips bucking as you pump into her mouth, fucking it with the same intensity you fucked her pussy.

"Take it," you growl, your voice rough, and she moans louder, "Mmmph," her hands gripping your thighs, nails digging in, urging you deeper.

You thrust harder, hitting the back of her throat. She gags, her eyes watering, but she doesn't stop, her moans vibrating against you, "Fuck, so big," muffled around your cock.

You pull her hair tighter, forcing her to look up at you, her eyes lost, her face flushed, "You love this, don't you?" you say, and she whimpers, nodding slightly, her mouth full, her tongue never stopping.

You fuck her mouth harder, the wet sounds obscene, her saliva dripping down her chin, coating your cock. She's completely gone, her body trembling, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her moans a wildly, "Mmmh, mmmh."

She's shifts, her eyes glazed. She climbs onto you, straddling your hips, her hands trembling as she grips your cock, lining it up with her pussy.

"Oh, God," she whispers, her voice breaking as she lowers herself, your cock sliding into her tight, wet heat, so tight it's almost painful, gripping you.

She starts slow, her hips rocking, her breasts bouncing gently, her moans soft, "Fuck, sweetie..."

You groan, "Mom, fuck," your hands grabbing her ass, squeezing hard, feeling the firm flesh you've fantasized about for years.

She leans down, kissing you, her lips desperate, her tongue tangling with yours as she rides you, her pussy clenching tighter with each movement.

You thrust up to meet her, your hips slamming together. She picks up speed, riding you faster, harder, her moans turning to cries, "Fuck! Sweetie...! I'm... fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Her voice is raw, unhinged,

"I'm fucking my son's cock, I'm going crazy, I'm a bad mom, fuck!" She’s completely lost, her body moving on instinct, her pussy gripping you so tightly it hurts, but it's perfect, driving you wild.

You grip her ass harder, guiding her, thrusting up to match her rhythm, each movement sending her breasts bouncing wildly. "Do you love your son's cock, mom?" you growl, slapping her ass.

"Yes, fuck, I do!" she yelps, her tongue lolls out, her eyes rolling back as she rides you, her pussy dripping, soaking your cock, the bed.

You feel her tightening, her body trembling, her moans turning to screams, "I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming!"

Her pussy spasms, squeezing you painfully tight as her orgasm come through her, her body shuddering, shaking violently, her cries moaning, "Fuck, sweetie, oh, God!"

She slumps onto you, her sweaty, trembling body collapsing against your chest, her breaths ragged, you hold her close, your hands still on her ass, your cock still hard inside her.

You shift, pulling out slowly, "Mom..." you're murmuring rough.

You maneuver her trembling body, turning her to her side, spooning her from behind. Her skin is hot, slick with sweat, her round ass pressing against your hips as you wrap an arm around her, locking her neck in the crook of your elbow.

She gasps, "Sweetie, fuck me again," her voice is weak, her body pliant, molding to yours as you bite her neck, hard enough to leave a mark. She moans, "Fuck," her head tilting back, exposing more of her throat to you.

You nip her earlobe, sucking it lightly, whispering, "You feel so fucking good, Mom," as your hand slides down, lifting one of her legs, spreading her open.

Her pussy, still dripping from her orgasm, glistens in the dim light, and you line up your cock, brushing the tip against her wet folds. She shudders, "Put it in, fuck me, sweetie..." her hips push back.

You thrust in, slow at first, her pussy gripping you tightly, almost painfully, and you groan, “Fuck, so tight,” burying yourself deep.

You pick up speed, fucking her harder, your arm tightening around her neck, holding her in place as you slam into her, the wet slap of your bodies obscene in the quiet room.

She's moaning, "Oh, God, sweetie!" her hand gripping your arm, nails digging in as you bite her neck again, making her cry out, "Yes, fuck!"

Her pussy clenches with every thrust, her leg trembling in your grip,

"Says "I'm yours," mom," you growl, your free hand squeezing her ass, spreading her wider as you pound deeper, your cock throbbing inside her.

She's whimpering, "I'm yours, fuck, I'm yours,” her voice breaking, her tongue darting out as she pants, completely gone.

You feel the pressure building, your cock pulsing, and you thrust harder, faster, until you can't hold back. "Fuck, Mom," you groan, cumming hard, spilling inside her, your cum filling her pussy as she moans,

"Oh, yes...!" Her body shakes, another orgasm hitting her, her pussy milking you as you empty yourself, your arm still locked around her neck.

She slumps, her body limp but her ass still pressed against you, your cock softening inside her, cum leaking down her thigh.

You pull out, your cock softening, you stumble to the bathroom, leaving Jisun alone on your bed, her body curled in the sheets, her breaths uneven.

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face, staring at your reflection, barely recognizing the man looking back. Guilt claws at you, what the fuck have you done?

She's your mom, the woman who raised you, and you forced yourself on her, fucked her until she broke, her moans haunting you even now, you hate yourself for it, the shame burning deeper.

When you return, Jisun's still there, moving quietly, cleaning up the mess. She's pulled on her nightgown, changing your sheets, gathering a pile of crumpled tissues into a plastic bag in the corner of the room.

Even after everything, she's taking care of you, it twists the knife in your gut.

"Mom..." you start.

She freezes, her hands clutching the edge of a sheet, her knuckles white.

"I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..." You trail off, words useless against what you've done.

Your mom doesn't look at you, her shoulders trembling as she folds the sheet with care, like it's the only thing keeping her together.

"This never should've happened," she whispers, her voice barely audible, thick with guilt, "I'm your mother... how did I let this happen?" She shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek, and you feel like you've been punched, the sight of her pain worse than any anger.

"I'm the one who pushed you," you say, stepping closer, your voice shaking. "It's my fault, Mom. I couldn't stop."

She finally looks at you, her eyes glistening, "No, sweetie, I should've stopped you," she says, her voice breaking. "I'm supposed to protect you, not... not this," she gestures vaguely at the bed, the tissues, her hands trembling as she wipes them on her nightgown.

"I failed you. I'm a terrible mother," she turns away, grabbing another tissue, her movements jerky, like she's trying to erase the evidence of her shame.

"No, you're not," you say, "You're... you're the best mom. I'm the one who's failed you."

She shakes her head, her breath hitching. "It's wrong that I felt that too," she admits, her voice so soft it's almost lost. "I wanted that... and it's what makes me sick. What kind of mother wants her son like that?"

She chokes on a sob, dropping the sheet, her hands covering her face, "I should've walked away. I should've been stronger."

You stand there, frozen, her words cutting deeper than any accusation. "Mom, please," you say, your voice small. "Can we just... forget this ever happened?"

She nods, wiping her eyes, forcing a shaky smile. "We have to," she says, her voice firm but fragile. "This can't happen again. You're my son. I love you, but... not like this."

She resumes cleaning, her hands trembling, and you watch, helpless, the sight of her love, still there, despite... everything. Making your guilt tearing you apart, a wound you know will never fully heal.

[iskandersmuts]

BLACKPINK: Pornlive Experience

Context: Alright, so I’m bundling up your DMs into one big post instead of spamming. The girls are hopping on a live from their room soon to answer everything, and yeah, you’ll get your challenges too. More idols are coming—just Somin this week, but stay tuned. Enjoy the show!

The scene opens in a softly lit bedroom with warm tones, provocatively disheveled—pillows on the floor, clothes strewn about, and glasses left on the furniture. The door creaks open slowly, revealing Lisa stepping in barefoot, laughing as she scratches her shoulder. Jennie follows behind, chewing gum and tossing her hair back with effortless cool. Rosé enters next, clutching a wine bottle, while Jisoo kicks the door shut behind her, locking eyes with the camera in a defiant stare.

The group disperses—Rosé sinks onto the rug, Lisa sprawls across the bed, Jennie leans against the wall with crossed arms, and Jisoo perches on the edge of the mattress, adjusting the slipping neckline of her top with deliberate slowness.

Rosé, voice low and teasing, murmurs: "Another day, another show… But we love it. And so do you."

Jisoo adds, blunt and unbothered: "We’re past the ‘shy hello’ phase. Now it’s just filth and honesty."

Jennie, locking onto the lens as her tongue swipes her lower lip, dares: "So go ahead—ask. Requests, dares, humiliations, promises… Whatever you want."

Lisa, still grinning, finishes: "And whatever we want to do… we’ll do. With or without warning."

The four exchange glances—a mix of predators and addicts, high on their own power. The camera lingers on their faces, their tight clothes, the thick haze of sexual tension in the air.

Rosé concludes, voice a velvet purr: "Welcome back to our favorite little game…"

(Together, in layered tones, they announce:)

"BLACKPINK: PornLive Experience."

“What 4th gen girl do you want to take under your wing and teach her some things? Anything in particular?”

JISOO

"Kazuha… oh, she’s adorable with that innocent dancer vibe. But I can tell—she’s curious. I’d start slow… make her sit between my legs, back pressed against my chest, so she can feel how fast my heart beats when I’m turned on. Then I’d teach her how to touch herself properly—my hands guiding hers, showing her how to circle her clit just right, how to tease before she pushes in…"

"Once she’s all worked up, I’d flip her onto her stomach and pull her hips up. Make her beg for it. I’d spank her first—not too hard, just enough to leave her skin pink and sensitive. Then I’d lick her from behind, slow and messy, until her thighs are shaking. And when she’s right on the edge, I’d stop… make her ask for permission to come."

"And if she’s really good? Maybe I’d let her return the favor… see if she’s a fast learner with her tongue."

(The camera catches the way her breath hitches slightly—just for a second—before she laughs, crossing her legs.)

"But hey. That’s just one lesson. I’ve got plenty more."

“What is your favorite sex toy?”

(The camera lingers on Jennie as she leans back against the wall, her fingers toying with the hem of her crop top. A slow, wicked grin spreads across her lips as she considers the question. She exhales, as if reminiscing, before locking eyes with the lens—unblinking, unashamed.)

"My favorite toy?" She lets out a low, throaty laugh. "Oh, baby, that’s not even a question. It’s my precious little bullet vibe—sleek, silver, fits right in the palm of my hand… or between my thighs." Her fingers trail down her stomach, stopping just above the waistband of her shorts, teasing. "The best part? It’s quiet… but trust me, I’m not."

(She shifts, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately, letting the fabric ride up just enough to hint at bare skin beneath.)

"I’ve taken it everywhere—dressing rooms, backstage, even once during a live radio interview. Sat there with my legs squeezed together, smile plastered on my face, while that little devil did exactly what I wanted it to." Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. "Three speeds, but I always start on the lowest… make myself wait, squirm, bite my lip until it’s raw. Then—" Her free hand clenches suddenly in the air, mimicking a remote. "—just when I’m about to break? Click."

(A slow roll of her hips against nothing, eyes fluttering shut for a second before she snaps them back open, gaze burning.)

"And if I’m feeling really nasty? I’ll slip it inside my panties before a performance—let the buzz sync up with the bassline, see how long I can last before my voice starts shaking. Maybe that’s why my ad-libs always sound so fucked out by the end." She grins, all teeth. "Or maybe… I just like knowing thousands of people are screaming my name while I’m dripping under my stage outfit."

(A beat. She tilts her head, faux-innocent.)

"What? You thought idols only rehearsed choreography?"

(The others erupt into laughter as Jennie finally takes mercy, waving a hand like she’s brushing off the tension—but the smirk stays, filthy and unrepentant.)

(Jennie has just finished her obscenely detailed answer. The room falls silent for a second before the other three react with razor-sharp commentary.)

Lisa (slow clapping, sarcastic):

"Wow, Jennie unnie... So technical. It's almost like you gave a TED Talk on how to be a professional vibrator user." (Rosé nearly spits out her wine laughing)

Rosé (fake gasp, hand on chest):

"My God, and here I thought you only used that thing alone... Wait, you actually took it on stage? During 'Shut Down'?!" (Jennie just smirks, proud)

Jisoo (deadpan documentary voice, overly serious):

"And here we observe Kim Jennie, Homo Erectus Premium, evolving into Homo Vibratus... Congratulations, you've invented a new music genre: K-Pop Coregasm." (Lisa falls back on the bed laughing)

Jennie (shrugging, fake modesty):

"Thank you, thank you. I accept flowers and Nobel Prizes in Pleasure Physics."

(Rosé raises the wine bottle like a trophy)

Rosé: "A toast! To our Greatest Contribution to Science since Boombayah!"

(They burst into laughter, the heavy mood shattered by their razor-sharp camaraderie. The camera shakes slightly, capturing their filthy, hilarious intimacy.)

Lisa (catching her breath, pointing at the camera):

"Next question, before Jennie starts giving maintenance tips for her little toy..."

(Jennie throws a pillow at her. Cut to black.)

“I bet it's a stiff competition between who had taken more loads up their ass, Jisoo with kdrama's producers to get better roles, or Lisa with her backup dancers just because she's a freak”

(The room erupts in cackles. Jisoo’s jaw drops, while Lisa rolls her eyes, but both lean in, competitive glints flashing.)

Lisa (flipping her hair, smirk sharp)

"Pfft, at least mine’s fun. You think some old men in suits could handle this?" (Gestures down her body with a scoff.) "But fine—yeah, maybe I tested a few dancers. For science. And ‘cause they begged. And ‘cause—" (grins) "—I like watching them squirm after."

Jisoo (fake gasp, hand on chest)

"Wow. Wow. First of all—" (leans toward the camera, lowering her voice) "—those ‘old men’ pay me in lead roles and orgasms, so who’s really winning?" (Shrugs, sipping wine.) "Second… Lisa’s just mad ‘cause her dancers talk. I make sure mine don’t." (Sweet smile, dead eyes.)

(Rosé wheezes, collapsing onto Jennie, who shakes her head in mock disapproval. Lisa flips Jisoo off, but she’s laughing—until Rosé’s wandering hand slips, and the screeching starts again.)

Jennie (dry, to the camera):

"…We’re definitely demonetized after this."

(The camera lingers as Rosé, visibly tipsy, swirls the last of her wine with a lazy smirk. Her movements are slower, her gaze heavier—her hands, however, are restless. As the question is read aloud, she lets out a giggle, fingers trailing up Jennie’s thigh before pinching Jisoo’s waist, earning a half-hearted swat. Lisa watches, amused, as Rosé leans forward, lips glistening.)

"Many can swallow loads of cum, but it takes a degenerate slit like Rosé to let it dry on her face and body and eat the dry flakes of cum hours later in the day. Right, Rosé?"

Rosé (grinning, voice syrupy and unapologetic):

"Mmm, guilty~" (She drags a finger down her own neck, licking her lips.) "Why waste it? It’s like… salty candy. And the best part?" (Her hand sneaks over to Lisa’s shoulder, squeezing.) "When it flakes off later, you get little surprises all day. Like… snack time." (She bursts into drunken laughter, nuzzling into Jennie’s side.)

Jennie (rolling her eyes but smirking):

"You’re fucking disgusting." (She shoves Rosé playfully, but the drunk girl just clings harder, blowing a raspberry against her neck.)

Jisoo (deadpan, but eyes glittering):

"And yet you always end up helping her clean up. Hypocrite."

Lisa (grinning, catching Rosé’s wandering hand):

"Yeah, Jennie. You complain, but your tongue does work—"

(Rosé interrupts with a loud, tipsy cackle, flopping onto her back and spreading her arms wide.)

Rosé:

"Everyone* loves a dirty girl… they just pretend they don’t."* (She hiccups, then points at the camera.) "You know you’d eat it too. Flakes and all."

(The others groan, but the laughter is thick in the air—along with something darker, hungrier. The camera lingers as Rosé’s fingers dip beneath the hem of her own shirt, teasing at her waistband, before Lisa yanks her upright with a laugh.)

Lisa:

"Okay, enough. Next question before she starts demonstrating—"

(Rosé pouts, but her eyes stay locked on the lens, daring someone to challenge her. The screen fades to black with the sound of her drunken giggling.)

(The camera lingers on Rosé, who’s sprawled across the bed, wine bottle dangling from her fingertips, cheeks flushed. She giggles, slurring her words slightly as she tugs at the hem of her skirt, deliberately shifting to give the camera a teasing glimpse of her thighs. Jennie rolls her eyes but smirks, while Lisa and Jisoo exchange a look—half-amused, half-challenged.)

"Girls, between all of you, who got the most pregnancy scares? All of you begging for every guy to cum inside, it had to happen… or maybe you have a secret child in the low?"

Jisoo (leans back, stretching like a satisfied cat, her voice dripping with dark amusement):

"Oh, you’d love to know, wouldn’t you? Let’s just say… I’ve had a few close calls. But it’s not like I was counting. When you’re high on adrenaline, drunk on power, and some guy’s whispering how good you’d look carrying his baby… well, rationality isn’t exactly in the room anymore, is it?" (She tilts her head, smirking.) "There was this one time—private jet, no condoms in sight, and he refused to pull out. I remember laughing the whole time, thinking, ‘If it happens, it happens.’ But luckily… my body’s as rebellious as my personality." (She shrugs, running a hand through her hair.) "Though, who knows? Maybe there is a little Jisoo running around somewhere. Wouldn’t that be fun?"

(Rosé cackles, kicking her legs up, nearly spilling her wine. Jennie shakes her head but doesn’t intervene, enjoying the chaos.)

Lisa (grinning, sharp and wicked, like she’s been waiting for this question):

"Oh, please. If we’re talking scares, I win. Not because I was careless—but because I liked the risk. There’s something about a man losing control, fucking you raw because he needs it, because the idea of knocking you up turns him into an animal…" (She licks her lips, eyes locked on the camera.) "I’ve had guys beg to put a baby in me mid-fuck, promising they’d take care of everything. And for a second? I’d consider it. Just to see the look on their face when I’d say, ‘Do it. I dare you.’" (She laughs, low and throaty.) "But nah. No kids. Yet. Though…" (She trails off, glancing at Rosé, who’s now shamelessly adjusting her top to flash the camera.) "Ask me again in a year."

(Rosé, now fully distracted by her own exhibitionism, whines and slurs, "Hey, focus on me—" before Jennie shoves a pillow at her face, cutting her off. The camera shakes slightly from laughter as the scene dissolves into chaos.)

“Which other idol would you like to join us for a threesome?”

Lisa: "A threesome with another idol and a fan? Oh, that shit gets me wet just thinking about it." (bites her lip, staring straight into the camera like a challenge) "Alright, let me think… Fuck it, I’d pick Karina from aespa. You know why?" (grins like a predator) "She’s got that ‘good girl’ act, but you can tell she’s fucking desperate to break. That tight little body, those eyes begging to get ruined—imagine me, her, and some lucky fan in this room."

"The guy’s shaking, thinking he hit the jackpot, and I start by sucking his dick slow, teasing him, while Karina’s kissing my neck and shoving her tits in my face." (Rosé squeals drunkenly in the background) "Then I push Karina down and make her suck him off with me—our tongues fighting over his cock while he moans like a fucking slut." (licks her lips) "Next, I ride him hard, letting him pound into my pussy while Karina grinds on his face, riding his tongue till she cums down his throat."

"But the best part?" (leans in, voice dropping) "I wanna bend Karina over and fuck her ass with a strap-on while she screams, and the fan pumps his load deep inside her. She’d leave shaking, dripping cum, and finally admit she’s just as much of a whore as we are." (flips her hair) "And the fan? He’d need a fucking wheelchair after we’re done."

(Rosé moves behind Jisoo, who tries to squirm away from Rosé’s persistent hands as she hugs her from behind and starts whispering in her ear.)

Rosé (giggling, voice slurred):

"Jisoo… let me just lick a little… You’re so fucking hot when you pretend you don’t want it…"

Jisoo (fake-scandalized, laughing):

"She’s impossible tonight. Somebody get this drunk Rose off me before I actually give in."

Jennie (grabbing Rosé by the shoulders, half-annoyed but smirking):

"Okay, timeout for ice water. And maybe a cold shower."

(Lisa sits back slowly, looking at the camera with a tired but filthy smirk.)

Lisa:

"Guys… we’ve answered so much tonight that even Rosé forgot we’re live. Or maybe she just wanted to forget."

(Rosé nods slowly, looking completely unrepentant. Jennie pries the bottle from her hand and tosses a pillow onto the floor.)

Jennie:

"You guys are terrible, and we love it. But… we need a break."

Lisa (locking eyes with the camera, voice dropping lower):

"So go ahead. Grab a snack, rub one out, think about us… because later…"

Jennie (with a wicked grin):

"...we’ll be back. Only this time… with challenges."

Lisa:

"And if you think you’ve seen too much tonight… you haven’t seen anything yet."

(They both stand up, Jennie pulling Rosé along with firm affection. Jisoo smooths her hair and winks at the camera.)

Jisoo:

"See you tonight, perverts."

🔞 BLACKPINK: PornLive Experience — Part 2 Coming Soon 🔞

[iskandersmuts]

BLACKPINK: Porn Live Experience - Parte 2

Context: The second live was more intense, bold and full of tension. The members explored new limits, responded to tough challenges from fans and provoked each other like never before. Before closing, a new challenge was launched — and it promises to turn the next fan meet into an unforgettable competition.

Tags: BDSM, domination, humiliation, foot fetish, piss, golden shower, anal sex, anal virgin, blowjob, hairy pussy, clamps, submission, pet play, public sex, deserted alley, live cam, private live, sadism, oral sex, dirty ass, squirt, cum in ass, power play, sexy clothes, leather, dirty boots, concrete, dirt, disgust, degradation, improvised threesome, voyeurism.

W: 6.339

The door opens slowly.

Jennie walks in first, wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt—covering just enough to tease more than it hides. She closes the door unhurriedly, then saunters over to the tripod where the camera sits. Leaning in, she turns it on. The first close-up? Her tits, half-revealed as she bends down and the shirt gapes open.

Jennie (voice low, almost a whisper):

“Did you miss us… or were you already touching yourselves without us?”

Lisa appears next, her hair in a high ponytail, black lace lingerie peeking under satin pants split at the sides. She heads straight for the bed, sitting cross-legged.

Rosé follows close behind—a wine-red robe over bare skin, hair loose, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She’s holding a remote—maybe for the camera, maybe for something else.

Jisoo enters last: a black tee knotted above her navel, plain panties underneath. She shuts the door slowly, then walks right up to the camera, crowding the frame like she could step through the screen.

The four settle into the room—Lisa lounging on her side with a lazy grin, Rosé kneeling at the center of the bed, Jennie stretching against the headboard, and Jisoo sitting facing the camera, knees parted.

Jennie:

“Challenge number one… who’s going first?”

They exchange glances, like they all want to. The silence is cut only by the slow throb of music and breaths heavy with anticipation.

Rosé: “Come on, hit us. We’re already wet.”

"You’re taking a midnight stroll through the park. You see a homeless man jacking off around the corner on a bench. He doesn’t know who you are and doesn’t know you’re there. What do you do? Do you help him get off? Do you stand there and watch? "

The camera lingers on Jennie, still perched at the edge of the bed, light slinking down the curve of her cheek. She stares into the lens like she’s speaking only to you. The room holds its breath around her. Waiting.

Jennie: “Picture it… an empty park, that smell of wet grass and damp earth rising in the cold air… everything icy, darkness swallowing it all, and some guy there, slumped on a busted bench, the sound of his zipper echoing as he jerks off, clueless that I’m watching…”

Her hand drifts to her throat, voice thickening.

Jennie: “Maybe I’d squeeze my thighs, y’know? That pressure… like my legs already know what’s coming. Maybe I’d lean against something… bite my lip ‘til it hurts just to stay quiet. And all of it… imagining his face if he knew someone was watching. Knew someone was coming for him… without him ever knowing.”

Rosé’s breath hitches audibly. Lisa sits up straighter, eyes locked on Jennie with a wicked little smirk.

Lisa: “Fuck, Jennie… now you gotta go. Bet you won’t actually leave the camera rolling while you grind on that nasty bench.”

Rosé crouches in the corner, snatching up a handheld action cam, plugging it into a laptop just off-screen. Her fingers fly over the settings.

Rosé: “Private stream’s live. Highest quality. Mic’s so sensitive it’ll pick up your whimpers.”

Jennie rises slow. The white shirt hangs loose but leaves nothing to the light. She walks to the door, pauses, fingers tracing the frame like it’s living skin. She glances over her shoulder—eyes cold and hungry all at once.

Jennie: “Hope you love public indecency.”

Silence. Then, barely there, Jisoo murmurs with a slanting smile, never looking away.

Jisoo (soft, lethal): “You’d better come for real, Jennie. ‘Cause when you get back, I’m gonna taste how wet you are—proof it wasn’t just an act, you fucking tease.”

The camera cuts to Lisa’s face, utterly rapt. She lets out a shaky laugh and crosses her legs tight, like she’s holding back. Rosé taps a final key, voice fraying at the edges:

Rosé (breathless): “Stream’s live. Jennie, you’re ours alone. Don’t make us regret this.”

The screen cuts to black for a second. The soft hum of a car engine fades in. The image returns—a camera pinned to Jennie’s coat, likely at chest height. Slight tremors in the footage, her breath steady but audible. Headlights slice through the dark. Jennie turns onto a side street lined with low trees and empty sidewalks. A park appears to the left—a dimly fenced-in space, metal benches, a few flickering lampposts casting weak light.

She parks calmly. Kills the engine. Sits in silence for a few heartbeats.

Jennie (whispering to herself, a smirk in her voice):

“Darker than I remembered. Perfect.”

A car door opens. Light footsteps on damp pavement. The camera sways with her movement. She crosses the street, hands in her coat pockets. Not a soul in sight.

Cut to the bedroom. Lisa kneels in front of the laptop, eyes locked. Rosé sits with her fingers pressed to her lips, shoulders tense. Jisoo lies on her side, a pillow wedged between her thighs, watching silently. Jennie’s voice filters through the laptop speakers—low but clear.

Back to Jennie. She steps into the park. Branches rustle in the wind; her shoes crush loose gravel. A bench waits ahead under a tree.

Jennie (still whispering):

“There. Right there.”

She approaches slowly. Her breath hitches. The bench is empty, but the scene is already vivid in her mind. She sits, deliberate. The metal bench creaks, icy against her bare thighs, making her shiver. The air smells like wet earth and her sweet perfume, tangling with the cold breeze. She crosses her legs, squeezing tight, and scans the shadows. The camera stays steady. Only the wind, their shared breaths, and the tension—thick, like something’s about to snap.

Cut to the bedroom. Lisa buries her face in a pillow and giggles, nervous.

Lisa:

“Holy shit, she’s really doing it…”

Rosé (grabbing the laptop mic, voice husky):

“Jennie, you filthy girl, are you touching yourself? Show us. Rub that pretty pussy for the camera.”

Back to Jennie. Her legs uncross slowly. Her breathing roughens. Her fingers slide down, skimming over damp fabric, pressing against her clit—already throbbing. The bench creaks again, cold metal biting her skin. A quiet moan escapes as she whispers to herself, voice wrecked: “Fuck, I’m soaked…” But the camera catches every word.

Jennie (whispering, fever-hot):

“You with me? Because I’m getting wet just thinking about you watching…”

Footsteps echo in the distance—a guard? A stray passerby? Jennie freezes for a second, heart racing, but her fingers don’t stop, grinding harder against her soaked panties, lust outweighing fear. She tilts her head. The lamplight flickers behind her. She shifts on the bench; her coat slips, revealing a sliver of bare thigh. Her breath goes uneven.

Cut to the bedroom. The girls are glued to the screen. Lisa’s hand slides up her own thigh. Rosé exhales sharply. Jisoo closes her eyes for a beat. The tension there is just as unbearable.

Jennie’s breathing comes in muffled, broken moans—like she’s fighting not to scream. The camera catches every slick sound of her fingers, the image of her hand rubbing her soaked pussy.

Jennie (whispering, voice shaky with lust):

“Fuck… you’re watching me… holy shit, this is so messed up… my pussy’s dripping for you…”

Suddenly, the crunch of fast footsteps cuts through the night. Two pairs, running, getting closer. Jennie’s eyes fly wide, her body locking up, her heartbeat so loud the camera picks it up. She tries to adjust on the bench—thighs trembling, fingers hesitating but still pressing into her pussy, unable to stop.

The first runner appears—a sweaty guy, earbuds in, shirt clinging to his toned chest. He blows past her without a glance, lost in his workout. Jennie holds her breath, sweat sliding down her neck. She fumbles to pull her jacket over her thighs—but her phone vibrates in her pocket, and Lisa’s voice slices through, sharp and commanding:

Lisa (low, dripping with malice):

“Don’t you fucking stop, you slut. Think you can cover up now? Let those men see your wet cunt. You stop, I cut the live right now.”

Jennie chokes, her whole body shaking with fear and need. Her hand dives back between her legs, fingers thrusting and rubbing her clit hard, the wet sounds echoing in the recording. The bench creaks loudly, betraying every jerk of her hips.

Then the second runner arrives—slower, older, breath ragged in sweatpants that tent over a half-hard cock. He passes… then stops, just feet away. The camera shakes violently with Jennie’s trembles. She doesn’t dare look, but she feels his stare—like he can see through the jacket. The man breathes heavy, frozen, and a faint metallic snick—maybe his zipper—cuts the silence.

Lisa (voice lower, almost moaning into the phone):

“Fuck, Jennie—he’s checking you out? Let him watch. Rub that pussy ‘til you come right in front of him. This is yours now, whore—take it.”

Jennie gags, eyes wide with lust and fear, her hand shoved in her pocket fucking her pussy with two fingers, wetness dripping down her thighs. The guy steps closer, the sound of his zipper cutting through the night. He pulls his cock out—half-hard, thick, about 8 inches, slick with sweat and reeking like he ran a mile without showering, the head glistening with a mix of sweat and pre-cum. He stares Jennie down, a dirty grin twisting his lips, voice rough.

Guy: “Liking the show, huh, sexy? Need help? Then suck this.” He grips his dick, swinging it toward her, the musky stench hitting Jennie’s nose.

Jennie freezes for a second, her heartbeat so loud the camera picks it up. Her clothes slip further, pooling at her shoulders, her tits almost bare under the thin shirt, nipples hard against the fabric. She licks her lips, trembling, but lust wins over disgust. She leans forward, the bench creaking loudly, and grabs his sweaty cock with her free hand, sticky heat coating her fingers.

Jennie (whispering, voice desperate and hoarse): “Fuck… god, it reeks…” She hesitates, then groans. “But shit, I want it… Lisa, you bitches watching this? I’m… I’m sucking this nasty dick…”

Her tongue flicks the head, the taste of salt and skin flooding her mouth. The stench of sweat and stale piss makes her gag, but she takes him slow, lips wrapping around the tip, tongue swirling as she fights nausea. The guy groans, shoving deeper, forcing half his cock down her throat—rotten flavor mixing with dizzying lust.

Lisa (through the phone, voice cruel, near-shouting): “Yeah, you slut, suck that sweaty dick! Laughs. Take it all, Jennie, prove you’re the whore we know you are.” Pause, lower. “Tell him what you are. Say it loud—let him hear you’re a filthy fucking cumslut!”

Jennie moans around his dick, drool and sweat slicking her chin. Her jacket hits the ground, leaving her exposed—shirt riding up, soaked panties on display. She pulls off, panting, tears of disgust and arousal in her eyes, and stares up at him.

Jennie (voice shaking): “Fuck… I’m a slut…” Whimpering. “A nasty bitch sucking dirty dick in the park…” She takes him back, faster, his tip hitting her throat, the rancid taste making her choke.

The guy fists her hair, yanking hard as he fucks her mouth, wet, gagging sounds echoing. Jennie chokes but keeps going, fingers still grinding her clit, body shaking as she cums again, her panties dripping onto the bench. He groans, cock pulsing, and shoots down her throat—thick, bitter spurts making her swallow convulsively. She coughs, the taste of cum and filth turning her stomach, but licks her lips, grinning brokenly at the camera.

Jennie (hoarse, wrecked): “Holy fuck… swallowed every drop…” Spits, trembling. “Tasted like fucking garbage… Lisa, you bitches better have came watching this…”

Cut to the bedroom. Red light spills over black sheets. Lisa’s legs are spread, panties shoved aside, fingers plunging into her pussy as she moans, eyes glued to the laptop. Rosé, writhes with her dress hiked up, rubbing her clit hard. Jisoo sits gripping her tits under her shirt, breath ragged, smirk filthy.

Lisa: “God, Jennie, you actually sucked that nasty dick!” Moans, laughing. “You fucking champion—drank every drop!” Fingers faster. “Get back here, slut, we wanna taste it off your tongue!”

Rosé (drunk, shouting): “Jennie, you legendary whore!” Giggles, moans. “You sucked that rancid dick on camera? Fuck, I’m cumming just watching!”

Jisoo (voice dark, licking lips): “You humiliated yourself so fucking good…” Grins. “Hurry back, bitch. We’re gonna punish you for that show.”

(Back in the park, Jennie staggers up, jacket abandoned, shirt askew, panties soaked. She grabs the jacket but doesn’t cover herself—thighs and pussy glistening as she walks to the car, cum and sweat still on her tongue. She smirks at the camera, exhausted and feral.)

Jennie: “Coming home, you deviants.” Weak laugh. “Hope you liked my dirty mouth…”

The camera stays fixed on the room. The lights are still dim, now tinted purple. Jisoo sits against the wall, legs spread, staring at the floor like she’s lost in thought. Rosé, more relaxed, takes a sip of wine, cheeks still flushed. Lisa paces, restless. 

The door opens. Jennie steps in. Her jacket’s disheveled, hair stuck to her forehead. Her eyes are wide, her whole body trembling. She doesn’t speak. Just shuts the door behind her. The silence lasts a second and a half—until Lisa crosses the room and takes her. Lisa slams her against the wall and kisses her violently—a wet, filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue. Her hands grip Jennie’s face like she wants to break her.

Rosé (panting):

“Fuck…”

Jennie tries to speak, but Lisa silences her with another deep kiss. Their breaths fuse. Lisa’s hand slides down Jennie’s side, to her inner thigh, where her fingers find…

Lisa (nuzzling her face):

“Soaked… like you fucking dripped just thinking about us.”

She drags her fingers slowly, then presses between Jennie’s legs, feeling the slick heat there. Jennie bites her lip, eyes still down. Lisa stops. Stares at Jennie like she’s something sacred. Then leans in and licks the corner of Jennie’s mouth with the tip of her tongue.

Lisa (almost a whisper):

“You taste like cum.”

(Grins, dirty.)

“Did you swallow? All by yourself?”

Jennie pulls free from Lisa’s arms, still trembling. She walks to the bathroom without a word, only the wet drag of her socks on the floor. The door shuts with a soft click. The room stays quiet for a beat. Rosé laughs, trying to lighten the mood, but her voice is still rough with arousal.

Rosé:

“Holy shit… she came back wrecked. Did you see her face?”

Lisa (still licking her lips):

“Came like an anonymous slut on a park bench. I’m in love.”

Jisoo moves closer to the screen, eyes half-lidded. She looks calm—but something’s shifted. Darker. Heavier. She sits at the edge of the bed, legs crossed.

Jisoo (locking onto the lens, dead serious):

“Who’s watching? You liked that, huh? Watching one of us lose it live… like you had any control.”

Rosé cackles and flops into the pillows, tearing open a pack of gum.

Rosé:

“This stream’s gonna get nuked off the internet.”

The laptop camera pings—a new message pops up on the live screen. White text on black, scrolling slow.

» Can I be mommy jisoo’s toy please mommy jisoo

Lisa throws herself back on the bed, laughing hard. Rosé’s eyes go wide. Jisoo, though? Silent. She reads. Thinks. Then turns to the camera with a look that’s ice and venom and sex all at once.

Jisoo (voice low, slicing):

“You wanna be my toy?”

A pause. She stands slowly, picks up her phone, types. Then smiles at the lens—small, almost cruel.

Jisoo:

“Then come. 19th Street. That dark alley by the abandoned gallery. Tonight. 2:40 AM. I’ll be alone. You’d better be too. Let’s see how loud you moan without a camera.”

Lisa lifts her head, shocked. Rosé chokes on her gum.

Lisa:

“Fuck… She’s actually going?!”

Rosé (equal parts terrified and turned on):

“Jisoo, you don’t even know who that is!”

Jisoo (calm smile):

“Doesn’t matter who it is. They’ll kneel the same.”

The chat explodes—emojis, begging, frantic keysmashing. The girls’ breathing picks up. The camera zooms on Jisoo’s face—unshaken. The shower runs in the background, Jennie still washing off. The world outside starts feeling too small to hold this game.

The bedroom camera catches Jisoo standing before the mirror. She pulls her hair into a low ponytail, loose strands framing her face. Her expression is neutral, focused—but her eyes gleam with quiet wickedness.

Jisoo’s phone camera activates discreetly as she bids the girls goodbye with a flick of her wrist. She doesn’t say where she’s going. They know. Lisa just watches. Jennie, fresh from the shower and wrapped in a towel, mutters:

Jennie (under her breath):

“If she doesn’t come back… it’s on us.”

Jisoo walks alone down the wet sidewalk. Streetlights flicker intermittently. Her black bodysuit clings like a second skin—shiny fabric cutting aggressive lines around her curves. Crisscross straps frame her hips and abdomen; the plunging neckline bares just enough to skirt indecency. The bottom half is carved out, demanding stares from every angle. (She wears a thin, open coat over it—part of the game. Knee-high black boots with sharp heels click against concrete.)

The city is quiet. Just distant horns, the occasional growl of an engine, and her own footsteps. As she nears the turn—a street of low buildings, faded graffiti, and dead neon signs—she slows. Her heartbeat stays steady. Absolute control.

Jisoo rounds the corner. The alley is near-empty. A single streetlight bleeds weak light onto the pavement. Leaning against a spray-painted wall, propped on a metal gate, is Kelly.

The girl can’t be older than 21. Straight blonde hair spills over her shoulders. Her face is delicate, almost childlike—wide blue eyes glinting with nerves. She wears a denim miniskirt and a plain white crop top, revealing a serpent tattoo curling up her ribcage. Another tattoo (feathery wings in fine lines) marks her forearm. She bites her lip as Jisoo approaches.

Kelly (soft, slight accent):

“You came…”

Jisoo (flat, cold):

“You said you wanted to be my toy. I don’t play games.”

Kelly swallows hard. Takes a step forward. Hesitates. Her gaze drags over the bodysuit, the neckline, Jisoo’s unblinking stare. She almost retreats—but can’t.

Kelly (whispering):

“I… didn’t think you were real. I just messaged you. Like… testing…”

Jisoo (unchanged):

“And now? How far will you test this?”

Jisoo closes the distance. Their bodies almost touch. She threads fingers through Kelly’s hair, calm, then tilts the girl’s chin up with her thumb.

Jisoo:

“How old are you?”

Kelly:

“Twenty-one.”

Jisoo:

“Good age to be shaped.”

A beat. Silence. The air between them thrums. A car passes somewhere in the dark. Jisoo releases Kelly’s chin and steps back.

Jisoo:

“Are you ready to obey?”

Kelly trembles. Glances around—the alley’s deserted. Her eyes lock back onto Jisoo’s. Slowly, without breaking contact, she sinks to her knees. Cold concrete bites her skin. Jisoo watches with clinical detachment, like appraising raw material. Then—a faint smile.

Jisoo:

“Good girl.”

Jisoo (low, commanding voice, adjusting her phone):

“Fuck, Kelly—you really ready to be my pet, you little slut? This camera’s catching every second of your humiliation.”

—Jisoo hits record, the phone blinking red—

“I’m filming this to show the girls how I break a pathetic fan like you.”

She steps closer, heels cracking against concrete.

“Take your clothes off. Now. Just the skirt stays.”

Kelly shudders, hands hesitating—but obeys, yanking her top over her head. Her small, pink-tipped tits bounce free, nipples already hard from cold and fear. She stands there in just the skirt, face burning, arms crossing over her chest. Jisoo laughs, swatting her hands away.

Jisoo:

“Look at these fucking tits—”

She leans in, inspecting.

“Like a doll’s. So fucking cute I wanna bite ’em.”

Jisoo grabs her bag, pulling out two shiny metal clamps.

“You’re my doll now, Kelly. Stay still.”

—She clips one onto each nipple, metal teeth sinking into tender flesh. Kelly whimpers, tears welling, body shaking.

Kelly (voice trembling, pleading):

“Ah—Jisoo, it hurts so fucking bad…! I’m trying, but Christ—!”

Jisoo (cruel smile, twisting the clamps to make her moan louder):

“Shut up, doll.”

She tugs a clamp, rolling it between her fingers.

“Pets don’t complain. They obey. I’m hurting you ‘cause you deserve it, slut.”

—Leaning in, hot breath at Kelly’s ear—

“Lift that skirt. Show me your pussy. Now.”

Kelly sobs but obeys, shaky hands hiking the skirt to her waist. Her cunt’s exposed—hairy, dark curls glistening with sweat and arousal. Jisoo smirks, grabbing two more clamps from her bag as she kneels to inspect.

Jisoo:

“Fuck, what a wild little bush—”

She drags a finger through the hair, making Kelly twitch.

“Cute. But you’re not done suffering.”

—Jisoo clips a clamp to each pussy lip, metal biting deep. Kelly SCREAMS, tears spilling as her body writhes.

Kelly (gasping, voice breaking):

“Holy shit—! Please, slow down, I can’t—fuck, it’s too much—!”

Jisoo (laughing, yanking the clamps to make her shriek):

“Damn, you cry pretty, doll.”

—Light slap to Kelly’s cunt, clamps jingling—

“Pets take whatever their owner gives ‘em. Lie down. I’m gonna use you for real.”

Kelly collapses onto the filthy alley ground—skirt up, clamps glinting under dim light. Concrete sticks to her skin as she whimpers. Jisoo stands, shoving her leather bodysuit aside to reveal a smooth, soaked pussy. She straddles Kelly’s face, cunt hovering inches from her lips.

Jisoo:

“Look at my pussy, whore.”

She rubs her fingers through slick folds, showing the wetness.

“You’re gonna lick till I cum on your face.”

—Grinds down hard, juices smearing Kelly’s mouth—

“Suck, you fucking pet—SUCK like you’re meant to!”

Kelly gags, tongue lapping clumsily as Jisoo rides her face. The taste is strong, salty—Jisoo’s hips piston, clamps swinging from Kelly’s tits. Jisoo moans, fisting her hair to shove her deeper.

Jisoo:

“Yeah—just like that, bitch! Harder!”

—Throws her head back, then suddenly FLIPS, shoving her ass over Kelly’s mouth—

“Now eat my ass. It’s a little dirty—been a while since I cleaned it.”

Cruel laugh as she grinds her hole against Kelly’s tongue.

Kelly gags at the bitter, musky taste. Hesitates—but Jisoo YANKS her hair, forcing her tongue inside. Kelly sobs but licks, the camera capturing every wet sound, every muffled scream. The alley echoes with Jisoo’s moans and Kelly’s choked cries—humiliation immortalized on film.

Jisoo (breathless, dominant):

“Fuck—your mouth’s made for this, pet.”

—Rides her face harder, nearly suffocating her—

“Lick my dirty ass till I cum. The girls are watching… and you’re being the perfect little slut for me.”

Glances at the camera, grinning.

“Y’all enjoying the show, bitches?”

Jisoo pulls back from Kelly’s mouth, a slick strand still connecting their lips for a heartbeat before snapping. She wipes her thumb over Kelly’s swollen lower lip, then drags it down her chin, her throat, stopping just above the frantic pulse at her collarbone.

“Look at you,” Jisoo murmurs. “All that pretty noise you made.” Her hands slide down, palming Kelly’s breasts—squeezing just shy of too hard—then lower, tracing the serpent tattoo like she’s memorizing its path. Her nails scrape lightly over the girl’s ribs, making Kelly gasp.

“Up.” A sharp tug on Kelly’s hair forces her onto unsteady knees. Jisoo steps back, tilting her head as if inspecting art. “Hands behind your back. Arch that spine.”

Kelly obeys, trembling. The streetlight catches the sweat at her temples, the flush spreading down her chest. Jisoo circles her, boots clicking on pavement.

“Better.” Jisoo’s smile is all teeth. “Fuck, you’ve been such an obedient pet, doll.”

A low, cruel laugh. “Licked my dirty boots, drank my piss, ate my ass… Guess you’ve earned a reward.”

She yanks Kelly’s hair, forcing her upright against the cracked wall. “Stay put, slut. Your owner’s gonna spoil you.”

Kelly trembles, hiccuping sobs, but obeys—pressing her cheek to the rough, cold concrete. Her skirt’s still hiked up, clamps pinching her nipples and clit. Jisoo kneels behind her, hands spreading Kelly’s ass apart, revealing her virgin hole: tight, pink, glistening with a faint musk of sweat.

Jisoo’s tongue drags slow circles around the rim, savoring the salt and heat. Kelly moans, high and broken—shame and need tangled in her throat. The phone captures every sound: wet slurps, Kelly’s muffled whimpers, Jisoo’s sadistic chuckle.

Jisoo (lips brushing Kelly’s skin):

“Fuck, what a pretty little virgin hole.”

Her tongue plunges deeper, making Kelly jerk. “Never taken cock here, huh?”

No answer needed. Jisoo spits, then shoves a finger inside. Kelly’s body fights the intrusion, clenching too tight.

Kelly (shrieking, legs buckling):

“Jisoo—fuck, it hurts! I’m a virgin back there, goddamn it—!”

She tries to squirm away, but Jisoo grips her waist, nails biting flesh.

Jisoo (twisting her finger deeper):

“Shut. Up.” A sharp smack to Kelly’s ass—the clamps jingle. “Pets don’t complain. They come from the pain.”

She scissors her finger, the tight ring of muscle finally yielding. Kelly’s cries dissolve into ragged moans.

Jisoo (breath hot against Kelly’s ear):

“Just getting you ready for something bigger, doll.”

Then—heavy footsteps echo down the alley. A heavyset Black man appears, sweat-stained shirt clinging to his chest, loose jeans sagging. His eyes widen at the scene—Jisoo’s leather bodysuit glistening under the flickering streetlight, Kelly trembling against the wall. He stops, confused but visibly aroused, voice gravelly with desire.

Man:

“Y’all good here, girls?”

His gaze locks onto Jisoo’s exposed cunt, the bodysuit’s crotchless design revealing more than it conceals. A thick vein pulses in his neck as he adjusts himself through his jeans.

Jisoo (rising with a predator’s grace, lips curling):

“Everything’s perfect, big guy.”

She saunters toward him, hips swaying, the bodysuit’s latex catching the light with every step. Kelly whimpers behind her, but Jisoo doesn’t glance back—her eyes are fixed on the bulge straining against the man’s zipper.

Jisoo (trailing a nail down his chest):

“Wanna play with my pet?”

She gestures to Kelly, who hiccups a sob. The man’s breath hitches as Jisoo leans in, her whisper dripping with malice.

“She’s virgin back there… but you can break that tight little ass. Just the ass—understand?”

A sadistic wink. Her hand slides down to palm his cock through denim, feeling its heft.

“My condition? You fuck her hard. Leave her wrecked.”

Kelly (twisting away, tears streaking mascara):

“J-Jisoo, please—”*

Her protest dies as Jisoo’s hand cracks across her cheek. The sound echoes. Kelly’s knees buckle, but Jisoo yanks her up by the hair, forcing her face-first into the wall.

Jisoo (growling in Kelly’s ear):

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. You’re mine.”

To the man, jerking her chin toward his pants:

“Show her that dick.”

The man grins, shoving his jeans down. His cock springs free—thick, veined, easily 9 inches, the head glistening with pre-come. The stench of sweat and musk rolls off him. Jisoo laughs, low and thrilled.

Jisoo (kneeling beside Kelly, gripping the man’s shaft):

“Fuck—this’ll ruin her.”

Jisoo (voice icy, laced with dark amusement, kneeling before the man, her fingers wrapped around his cock—hot, sticky, and thick in her grip):

"Fuck, this tight little virgin ass of yours can’t even handle this dick, can it, pretty boy?"

She laughs, low and throaty, her thumb swiping over the swollen head, smearing precum across her palm. The scent hits her first—sour sweat, dried piss, and the musk of a long night’s desperation. Her nose wrinkles, but the thrill of control curls in her stomach, hotter than the disgust. She licks her lips, tongue glistening pink under the flickering alley light.

Jisoo (glancing at Kelly, who whimpers against the brick wall, her fingers clawing at graffiti):

I’m getting you ready, doll. My pet’s gonna take this cock—but first? I’ll make it nice and slick for you.

A cruel wink at the man. Then she leans in, lips parting, and spits right onto the tip. The saliva drips thick down the shaft, pooling in the veins. She doesn’t give him time to react before her mouth sinks down, swallowing him inch by inch. The taste is rancid—salt and skin and stale arousal, like he’s been fucking all night without a shower. She gags once, throat fluttering, but forces herself deeper, nails digging into his thigh.

Jisoo (voice muffled, cock straining her lips):

"Christ, you reek…"

Her words vibrate around him. She sucks harder, tongue swirling under the head, teeth grazing just enough to make him hiss. The man groans, tangling a hand in her hair, but she slaps his wrist away—her pace, her rules. Wet, filthy sounds fill the alley: the drag of her lips, the choked gasps when he thrusts up, the drip of spit and precum onto cracked concrete.

The phone propped on the trash can captures it all—the sheen on his dick, the tears welling in Jisoo’s eyes as she gags, the way Kelly sobs and grinds her thighs together.

Jisoo pulls off with a wet pop, coughing, strings of saliva still connecting her lips to his cock. She spits again, thick and deliberate, watching it slide down his length.

Jisoo (breathless, wiping her chin with the back of her hand):

"There. Now it’s dripping me."

Her gaze flicks to Kelly, still trembling by the wall.

Jisoo (crooking a finger):

"Come here, bitch. Your turn."

Kelly shuffles forward, eyes wide. Jisoo grabs her by the hip, spins her around, and spits again—this time, right onto her clenched hole. She rubs it in with two fingers, slow and merciless.

Jisoo (gripping the man’s cock, guiding it toward Kelly’s ass):

"Relax, or this dick’s gonna split you in half."

A pause. A shared breath. Then—

Jisoo (smirking):

"…Actually, don’t. I want to hear you scream."

The man tries again, the swollen head of his cock pressing against Kelly’s tight hole. She whimpers, her body tensing as he forces himself against her, the resistance making her gasp. Tears streak down her flushed cheeks, her fingers clawing at the rough concrete beneath her.

Jisoo watches, her patience thinning. With a sharp exhale, she grabs Kelly’s hips and yanks her backward, impaling her in one brutal thrust. Half his length disappears inside her ass in an instant.

Kelly’s scream pierces the alley—high, ragged, shattered. Her back arches violently, her thighs quaking as a sudden gush of squirt erupts from her soaked pussy, splattering onto the pavement beneath her. The scent of her arousal mixes with the damp, grimy stench of the alley.

Jisoo laughs, low and dark, before dropping to her knees. She doesn’t hesitate. Her tongue drags through Kelly’s dripping folds, lapping up the mess with deliberate, almost casual hunger. The taste is sweet, salty, tinged with the musk of sweat and the sour tang of the city around them.

Jisoo (murmuring against her skin, voice thick with amusement):

"Fuck, you came, you filthy bitch."

She licks another stripe, slow, savoring it. Then grips Kelly’s thighs, forcing them wider.

Jisoo (grinning up at her):

"Look at you. Dripping all over this nasty street. Look at him."

She slaps Kelly’s ass, making her jolt.

Jisoo (to the man, sharp):

"Fuck her harder. Don’t stop till she passes out."

The man obeys, his thrusts turning rough, erratic. Kelly’s hole stretches around him, her breath coming in broken sobs. But he’s weak—barely three minutes in, his hips stutter. A choked groan, and then he’s spilling inside her, hot cum flooding her ass, dripping out around his softening cock

Jisoo’s nose wrinkles in disgust. She shoves him off with her foot, sending him stumbling back.

Jisoo (mocking):

"That’s it? Pathetic."

She crouches, swiping two fingers through the mess leaking from Kelly’s ruined hole. Holds them up, glistening, then licks them clean with a slow, deliberate drag of her tongue.

Jisoo (grabbing Kelly’s hair, forcing her head up):

"Your turn, pet."

Kelly whimpers but opens her mouth, tears still streaming as Jisoo shoves her cum-coated fingers past her lips.

Jisoo (watching her swallow, satisfied):

"Good girl."

She releases her with a shove, then gestures to the ground.

Jisoo (coolly):

"On your hands and knees. Now."

Kelly obeys, trembling. Her ass is red, her hole still glistening, her thighs sticky. Jisoo steps onto her back, settling onto her like a throne, her boots pressing into Kelly’s spine.

She looks straight at the camera—eyes sharp, mouth curved in a smirk.

Jisoo (laughing, voice dripping with malice):

"You see this, you fucking whores? Look at her. My little pet, destroyed."

She grinds her heel down, making Kelly gasp.

Jisoo (reaching for her phone, flicking it open):

"This video’s gonna break the internet. And you—"

She leans down, patting Kelly’s cheek.

Jisoo (mock-sweet):

"—you’ll get a very generous cut. Now stay here and recover, yeah? This alley suits you."

With that, she steps off, striding away without a backward glance. The camera lingers on Kelly—collapsed on the concrete, shaking, her breath ragged, her body used.

The screen cuts to black.

The door swings open.

Jisoo steps inside, tossing her keys onto the dresser like she’s just returned from grocery shopping. The mood in the room shifts instantly—thickens. The other three girls freeze mid-motion, eyes tracking her. Jennie, already sprawled across the bed with her legs lazily crossed, is the first to break the silence.

Jennie (grinning, voice dripping with faux innocence):

“Was it as… messy as we imagined?”

Jisoo doesn’t answer right away. She peels off her coat and lets it drop to the floor in a deliberate heap. The fabric lands with a whisper, but the sound feels loud in the charged air.

Jisoo (calm, wiping nonexistent dust from her hands):

“Better. I recorded everything.”

(Pauses, glances at the camera.)

“And I’ll show you later. Every. Single. Second.”

She sinks onto the edge of the bed, her posture deceptively relaxed—but her eyes lock onto the lens with a predator’s focus. The corner of her mouth twitches. Not a smile. A promise.

Jisoo (sweetly):

“Actually… I’m putting it up for sale. Anyone who wants to watch that little blonde bitch on her knees, begging? They’ll pay top dollar.”

Rosé, perched on the armchair, arches an eyebrow. Her wine-red nails tap against her thigh—once, twice—a staccato beat of amusement.

Rosé (mock-scandalized):

“Jesus Christ… This livestream is derailing.”

Lisa, stretched across the couch like a satisfied cat, lets out a low chuckle.

Lisa (purring):

“Or finally on track.”

A sharp ping cuts through the room. The laptop screen lights up with a highlighted notification from the livestream chat. The girls lean in, shoulders brushing, as the message blinks into view:

“Imagine a BP fan meet where each member competes to see who can make the most fans cum in 30 minutes. The queue would wrap around the block.”

Silence. Absolute. For one heartbeat. Two.

Then—

Jennie (lips curling, voice a velvet threat):

“Someone’s mind is filthy tonight… And I’m obsessed.”

Lisa rolls onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands. Her eyes gleam.

Lisa:

“A fan meet like that would end our careers.”

(Grins.)

“And start something way more fun.”

Rosé chews on the tip of her thumb, a habit when she’s turning over a dangerous idea. Her gaze flicks between them.

Rosé (murmuring):

“Wait… Could we actually compete? Like, count for real?”

Jisoo crosses her legs slowly, the movement drawing every eye to the deliberate shift of muscle under skin. She tilts her head, addressing the camera like it’s a confessional.

Jisoo (deadpan):

“We do have a fan meet in two weeks. All I need is a stopwatch…”

(Pauses. Lets the implication hang.)

“…A chair. And a line of desperate idiots ready to blow their loads on command.”

The room erupts—laughter, yes, but beneath it, something hotter. A challenge. A dare. Jennie stands, stretching her arms above her head, the hem of her shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

Jennie (low, teasing):

“You really want this? Lines, sweat, moans on a fucking timer?”

(Steps closer to the camera, eyes dark.)

“Then come prove it. But don’t just bring your desperation… Bring stamina.”

Lisa (stretching lazily, a wicked smirk playing on her lips):

"Well... if you're still alive after today, congratulations."

(She rolls onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands, legs kicking idly in the air.)

"But let’s be real—most of you won’t last five minutes once we start. And that’s before the toys come out."

Jennie (running fingers through her hair, nails scraping lightly against her scalp):

"And if cumming just watching this wasn’t enough..."

(She leans back against the headboard, thighs squeezing together deliberately.)

"Then buckle the fuck up. Because Part 3? Oh, we’re rewiring your fantasies."

Rosé (voice dripping like honey, slow and syrupy):

"The fan meet’s coming... and we’ve got our next challenge locked in."

She drags a remote down her collarbone—clicking it on—and the room hums with the sudden buzz of unseen vibrators. A collective gasp echoes from off-camera.

"Hope you’ve been practicing your edging, babies. You’ll need it."

Jisoo (not even glancing at the lens, adjusting the tight knot of her top):

"Thirty minutes. Four members. One scoreboard."

A beat. Her eyes flick up, dark and challenging.

"And oceans of cum waiting to be spilled. For us. Because of us."

Jennie (suddenly crowding the camera, lips almost brushing the lens):

"You wanna see who can make the most fans break?"

Her whisper is a hot, filthy secret, her breath fogging the glass.

"Then bring lube, batteries, and zero shame. Part 3? It’s gonna wreck you."

She nips her tongue between her teeth, winks, and saunters away—hips swaying like a metronome set to ruin.

Lisa (holding up three fingers with a mocking salute):

"BLACKPINK: PornLive Experience—Part 3... is real competition."

She pops the ‘P,’ grinning as the other girls groan in unison.

"And just so we’re clear?"

( slow, deliberate lick of her lips.

"We cheat."

The screen dims—BLACKPINK’s logo glitches into view, throbbing in time with bass-heavy synths. Right before the fadeout, Rosé’s voice curls through the darkness like smoke:

Rosé (off-screen, laughing low):

"Goodnight, perverts. Hydrate. Rest those trigger fingers."

(A muffled moan, then a whisper:)

"…You’ll need stamina for what’s coming."

[LIVE ENDED]

🔞 BLACKPINK: PornLive Experience – Part 3 - COMING SOON

[iskandersmuts]

Breaking her

StayC Isa x Manager POV

Tags: Gangbang, Degradation, Violence, Drugs, Masturbation

I got a call from by the High Up's CEO at his office. He said that he wanted to talk about Isa's attitude problem.

"Sir. I tried my best. I told her that her attitude affects everything in STAYC. She still didn't listen."

"I know you did your best. Maybe solving this problem in just talks is not the best way. I need to think if terminating her contract will solve the problem."

"Kicking her out of the group, sir?"

"Yeah. we don't have a choice. don't we? Isa is valueable asset in the group. Pretty and talented but her attitude now is not helping the group at all. She isn't like that before. Fame got her."

"I have a plan, sir. But first, I need your approval."

"You do? Well... I'm listening."

I told the CEO about my plan. I planned to take this further. Through violence and sexual humilation, Just to teach her a lesson. The CEO stayed silent for a while then nods.

"Alright. Do what you want. I'll make sure there will be no evidences of this."

"Thank you, Sir."

NEXT DAY

Another rehearsal for their upcoming fanconcert. They're working hard.... except her.

Sieun scolded her for being late then intentionally messing things up. They took a break right after. Isa went to the corner of the practice room and starts doing whatever she does on her phone.

That's it. That's the cue.

I went towards to her then grabbed her phone away from her hands. Before she can even react, A slap strikes her cheek. It was so loud that the rest of the STAYC members froze. They're shocked that I slapped her.

"WHAT THE FUCK!? HOW COULD YOU..."

Another slap. It made her fell down to the floor. I gripped tight her hair then keeps slapping her face. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six times a row.

The members are still stucked on their place. They don't dare to come and rescue their crying member.

"Look at me, You bitch." I snarled. Yanking down her hair then my other hand grips her face roughly to look at my eyes.

"I had enough of your bitchy attitude. Everyone had enough. Your members, staffs and even CEO. If you wanted to stay as an idol and member of STAYC, Accept your consequences and learn your damn lesson."

Without waiting for her answer, I pulled her up. Making her stand then dragged her out of the practice room.

"Arghh! Manager-nim! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She pleads. She keeps sobbing hard as I dragged her out.

It's hard to drag a sobbing mess along the way but after a while, I finally arrived at the men's bathroom. I kicked the door open then pushed her down to the tile floor.

Pulled out a tape from my pocket then forcefully tapes her wrists together. Does the same on her ankles.

I pulled out my phone and called someone. Isa heard me calling for some people here. "Manager-nim! I'm so sorry, Truly I am! I promise to be good person now! I will practice along with the members! Please have mercy!"

"It's too late now. No one will come and save you here. Your members are too scared. You're on your own."

Moments later, Someone knocked the door. I opened it and five High Up male staffs went inside.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah. I got a green light from the CEO. Do whatever you all want to her. That will teach her a lesson." I said.

"No! No! Please! Have mercy! Don't do this please! I swear I'll behave!"

Nods at them to start Isa's punishment. The sight of Isa being tied-up and helpless, Surely it turns them on. They all removed their pants and let their raging cocks loose. They walked towards to her like a bunch of hungry hyenas.

"No!! Please!! Stop! Stop!" She cried but still can't do anything to defend herself. Two guys went to tore her shirt to expose Isa's bare breasts. Not big nor small, Just perfect size for her body. These two guys are busy pinching her nipples roughly as they gave her delicate skin some bite marks.

Other two went tore her pants apart to expose her thighs. I guess they're too hunrgy for her. Last one went to her feet and sucking her toes. Obviously loving it.

Isa doesn't have a choice but to scream for help. Her voice became ragged from shouting. The first pair are now suckling her nipples.

"No... stop... stop biting my nipples.." her voice became weaker and weaker.

They bit and trying to pull it out. They did it many times before they went to forcefully kissed her lips. Isa doesn't want to as she keeps her mouth shut but the two men are too eager to taste her mouth.

As they succeed invading her mouth. They took turns of violating her mouth. They even licked her whole face. Making Isa feel disgusted.

Second pair decided to feast at her holes. First one went to devour Isa's wet cunt while the other one is busy at her ass.

The last one took advantage of the situation by using her feet to jerk off his cock.

The first pair stopped kissing her lips and proceeds to make her suck their cocks. She still resisting but the two are too determined to break her defenses.

Finally, they're able to fuck Isa's mouth. They're facefucking her like there's no tomorrow. Harsh and messy. Her saliva leaking from her mouth and drips down to her breasts. Creating a slimy mess on her own body. They took turns of abusing her mouth and throat. They don't care about her at all. They don't care about her as an Idol. To them, Isa is their fleshlight. Their cum dumpster.

The sounds of skin slapping skin and lewd noises from her own mouth fills the whole room.

The fourth guy who's busy eating her ass, starts putting his cock between Isa's thighs and maniacally thrusting it. The third guy puts two fingers inside Isa's tight virgin pussy and fingering her roughly.

The first pair decided that they should put their cocks inside her mouth at the same time. Surprisingly, it fits. Together, they fucked her mouth in that way.

Seeing Isa surrenders and just let these horny men do whatever they want to her body, makes this mission successful.

She's now broken, mess and violated. Surely she learned her lesson now, isn't she?

The third guy keeps fingering her pussy until Isa squirts. Her whole body twitches a lot.

"Damn! She squirts like a fountain!"

"Please.... no... more...." her voice muffled because of the two cocks thrusting inside her mouth.

The last guy keeps using her feet as his fleshlight until he came a lot. The first pair simutaneously shoots cum in her mouth. The overwhelming amount and taste makes Isa gagged but she doesn't have a choice but to swallow it.

The second pair forced their cocks into her wet cunt and tight butthole. It made her scream out loud but still ragged. It took them a while before theit entire length pushed inside of her. They started to thrust hard and deep.

The sensation of two cocks tearing her inside apart, filling her up and simutaneously violating her surely it's too much for her to handle. All she can do is to cry and beg.

It didn't take long until they filled her insides. I looked at my watch and it took over an hour to finish.

"Gentlemen. This needs to be finished by a golden shower."

They nodded in unison. They proceed to piss Isa's face and body. Degrading her to the lowest point.

To these men, they're all spent but overly satisfied. The idol that they used to admire, now a weeping mess on the bathroom's floor. Clothes torned apart, Her face and body are forcefully used for sexual desires, Her dignity is broken, Her precious virginity is now lost. She's coated by a mixture of sweat, saliva, piss, blood and cum.

But my job is not done. I pulled out my phone and turns the phone camera to her. I pulled her up by her hair.

"Wake the fuck up, Bitch. Answer my questions. Understood?"

She weakly nodded. "Yes....."

"Tell me your name. Your full real name."

"Lee.... Chae-young..."

"Why are you here and suffering?"

"Because..... I was rude.. to everyone. It's all... my fault... I deserved... this..."

"What lesson did you earn from your punishment?"

"Not to be... rude to everyone... I'll be... behave and helping the... group more...."

"This won't be the last time, Isa. Get ready."

FEW DAYS LATER

After the successful fanconcert. They all went to their dorms except her. I told her to follow me to the vocal rooms where I pushed her to enter.

"Why are we here, manager-nim?"

"Strip off your clothes. Everything. Everyone is watching you." Points at the web camera of the PC.

It didn't take long until she's all bare naked. I pulled out a syringe and a small vial of the strongest aphrodisiac. Immediately shots at her forearm.

It didn't take long until she got the effect of the aphrodisiac. She felt hot and horny as she starts touching herself infront of the camera. I pulled out some sex toys for her to use.

Behind the web camera, The people watching her pleasuring herself is the CEO, Executives, Shareholders and even CEOs from the other companies.

They all watched how an seemingly innocent idol turned into a slut.

The members of STAYC swore that they will be quiet about Isa getting sexually abused. The Isa that they used to know is back and they're happy about it.

-End-

[iskandersmuts]

Pink

This took a while to finish, and went in a more unexpected direction writing style wise. Finally got something out for Liz too, thanks to her pink jacket last April. I do like how it turned out in the end, and yes, lots of commas, as usual. Back to TripleS!

4,431 words of Kim Jiwon, well, Liz. Enjoy!

University life is monotonous. Yes, even factoring in the fun parts of it, school festivals, long nights out, mountain escapes from Seoul, and the liberal entertainment of vice, never forget the alcohol. No romanticized edit can represent the boredom you feel on some nights, just reviewing, worse, reviewing a topic that's becoming a chore. Though admittedly, dating was the same, a coin toss of a casual relationship, if you can even describe it as that, or a probable, actual relationship. Hopefully, in a perfect world, though, you can have both.

Living alone amplified that boredom. After giving up and shutting my tablet, after two hours I just enunciated my first word: "Fuck." I had already resigned myself to the thought that tomorrow's quiz could be sacrificed. Then, after watching whatever performative rot and gibberish I could see on my phone's feed, I was just about to give it up and try playing a game, offline, of course, to cure boredom, not transform it into anger. Sigh. One more look. One notification. 

[Are you bored?] Jiwon asked. 

I replied, of course I was. It was just past 10, and I wasn't so full, but not too hungry. Typically, it's "break-cum-procrastination time," but now someone asked to crash in my place. I have been dating Jiwon for a bit now. She was adorable on many days, goofy, silly, and fun to be around. Visually striking too, I could go on about how tall she was, but she had dyed her hair pink recently. That made her easier to spot. 

I asked her, and she was just as bored. 

[You want me to come over?]

I shot up in my bed. This could mean anything. I replied that, of course, I did. 

Another notification, her name, next to "sent a photo," with a play button beside it. Touch.

It was a selfie. Jiwon had her glasses on, angling her hand high with the phone, but she had her pink jacket unzipped, but not open. She was a brunette now—and had no bra—and wrote something on the lower left side, right below her tits, "I missed you somehow," with a kiss mark. Better than porn. It was an immediate yes from me. 

Another reply: [I'll get on the bus. You have beer there?]

I did, just six, the last six. I'm not much of a drinker, but Jiwon had an appetite for four. That was after we'd gotten used to each other, and it drove the conversations up and released her silly side, then turned it up to eleven. So it doesn't surprise me anymore.  Though, like we've done a few times now, whether it's after dates, even when it would've been wholesome during the daytime. It would end up, at her request, with her undergarments down to her ankles, bent over, pressed against the velvet IKEA couch she helped pick. This was going to be one of those nights again. 

Another photo, this time, she pulled her jacket to the side, it was the obvious sight—no shirt—just her cleavage. The shape of her tits tempted me, but I was an easy man when it came to her. I tried to find a more recent photo of myself and sent it. 

Another notification, it was a more wacky selfie, but she had opened what I sent. Jiwon was in the bus now, sitting in the back. I've seen her naked, but her teasing was always something. I remembered her photo and probably asked about the obvious.

[You really don't have a bra?]

[Nothing at all.]

She was just walking in here expecting to get a fucking. The thought of her just going out in public in her pink sweatsuit—such a loud color—while topless underneath, hoping to get her panties pulled down, and get fucked, already made my blood rush down. Though with eyes as big as hers, taking her missionary was always a treat. Yet, even while stressed out reviewing, I haven’t masturbated all day, so she was going to get more than one.

I did try to do something unnecessary. We never found it more annoying than having nothing to snack on after a session, though mostly, we just get delivery, then walk Jiwon back—though once she sucked me off in a shrub—to her dorm. I tried to intellectualize what was about to happen too; Maybe it was just about her time of the month? Maybe I played too much in our chats? Perhaps she found her fingers boring already. Anyway, she was on her way here, and my left hand was probably cheering for me; Finally, somebody else! It was about to roar its praises. 

[Can you pick me up? I don’t have a card, remember? ㅋㅋㅋ]

Oh, right. I thought it prudent to try not to make myself obvious. Maybe I should just throw a thick jacket on, too? Never mind. But anyway, just before I left my apartment, she did send a picture of herself, with a bag with what was probably some sort of bread or anything she could throw in my microwave. But food was the last thing on my mind. 

I wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to fuck on a fuller stomach, so I went into the staircase. Picking Jiwon up in the lobby of my dorm, I was glad that by then, the middle-aged man who often provided whatever semblance of security with a baton had gone up for his late dinner. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t care much, though he has occasionally recognized Jiwon as she got off the lift—she was a dancer who never liked the stairs.

We got on the lift going to my floor. It was a more economical six-story apartment, a little dated, greyly brutalist, cheap, but not seedy. It was a slow lift so that we could get the usual pleasantries. Seeing our reflection on the elevator mirror, Jiwon grabbed my hand and put it around her waist. Glancing at the display, it says floor 3B, one more. I checked her word for myself and slid my hand up the back of her jacket. Nothing.

Ding! Jiwon just shot me a look before the doors slid open; she knew curiosity would get the better of me. 

We were greeted by an empty hallway, knowing what was about to happen once I shut the door, I just kept in mind that the walls were pretty thick as I put my passcode in and pushed the handle down. Entering, I didn’t turn the AC off, just down a bit, and hearing the electronic lock, I thought of turning it colder. Then I felt a hand grab me and turn me around. So eager.

Jiwon tried to grab my face and kiss me, but I was able to push her gently to the wall and close the gap first. It wasn’t just a peck; a full-blown make-out erupted only a step from the door. Handsy as she was, I grabbed a handful of her ass and the soft flesh of her tit, squeezing ever so gently as I knew later won’t be so much. At this time, the light pink-haired girl whom people, strolling out and about, or on the city bus, had seen mere moments ago was now getting herself groped with her lips on the offensive. Her breathing was getting heavy only a minute in, but she didn’t come here for a kiss and a hug, no? 

Pulling my lips away, I suggested the couch, and in a pause, found ourselves in front of it. As a homebody Jiwon was, she lay down on the armrest, with me having only my knees and an arm to keep me from falling onto her while we continued where we left off. Waiting on me to do something, I looked for the hem of her pants with my fingertips and got it right on the first try, grabbing her ass with my left hand and squeezing much harder than earlier. Her lips on mine, both my hands in her pants, I thought I needed to do some “magic,” well, some sort of it. My fingers had to get this maneuver right. 

Press one finger, press two fingers. For prudence, she did have her panties on. We already had our tongues against one another, so I kissed her deeper. Jiwon moans; perfect. Her half-lidded eyes were wide open while I pulled away.

“You want to eat me out?”

I think I smirked. A bad impression of it, perhaps. Jiwon giggled as I knelt, pulled everything off her leg, and slid my hands back up. A tall girl, she always stood out from many, so don’t let Insta fool you, that also made her legs easier to fold back by the knee as I pulled away from her. She giggled and was expecting it, knowing that I always liked eating her out, and had readied and cleaned herself before she even told me. 

Jiwon knew that teasing me was enough of an excuse to get herself into my room. 

I got a whiff of her flowery scent, but wanted a taste of it. So I gave her thigh a peck, it was soft, so I put another on the other side. It only took a few kisses before there was a hickey on her left thigh, close to where I intended to land my tongue next. One flick right on her clit made it clear to her, hearing a huff leave her mouth. Sliding my tongue up the sides, and like most food, it tasted rather salty. Though quickly, I just paid attention to her pussy, with her letting out a soft moan as she held her breath, and when my tongue finished drawing, to a barely suppressed cry when I sucked on her clit. I was relentless, and that made her even louder, only shutting herself up when she covered her mouth and weakly tried to push me away. As always, it was a weak ruse. 

“You okay?” I asked Jiwon. Our stares met with a nod from her. So I continued, lick after lick, but making sure I sucked on her clit to make it matter. Wasn’t an hour of eating her out last week enough? Guess not. From holding her breath, she had shut her eyes, with her brows furrowed, arching her back a bit, exposing just enough of her skin through her jacket, with her zipper down but not yet removed. 

Slowly, I got a hold of her thighs while I continued to eat her out. It was more of a measure if she tried to lock her legs with my head in between. Between tracing circles over her clit and the occasional suckling that caused her to yelp and moan, I was more and more being greeted with the slow, telltale drip that came with my effort. Then maybe that was my signal flare to stick my finger in, I teased by sliding and poking it, just the tip, before looking up at the trapped lady on my couch. 

Jiwon had her eyes shut as her chest rose and fell, so I wasn’t about to ask. But she had that certain glow that only arousal can bring about. Even as I had dimmed the lights, just reading her face, she wanted to feel that release. She was close, and it was going to be a loud one.

She was holding her breath more now, though moaning more, arching her back and seizing up, getting wetter as her fingers grabbed onto my scalp. Closer now, so another finger in, careful, I shouldn’t be too hasty, rush, and lose the rhythm. I just knew to keep pressing where I got the loudest moans, and suck at her clit that became all the more swollen. The small, pink bulb was exposed and had nothing to hide from this tongue.

I kept pressing at Jiwon’s spot, aware that her juices would leave a stain on the couch as it dripped down my knuckle, hence the weighted blanket she lay on top of. Now, when she was close to cumming, her legs always began to close in around me, and her arms, long as they were, couldn’t push me. They often would do the opposite, and try to pull me further into her. All I could do was oblige, holding out just a little more before the inevitable came knocking. That telltale sign of a rightfully contorted face as that final bated breath left, her weight sinking and back arching as the long moans began. Her hand grabbed onto the couch as her folds tightened around my two fingers. I kept licking, and her other hand tightened around my hair, pushing me in, as she was at the peak of her orgasm now, feeling her drip to my wrist as she slowly began to come down from it.

For the first time in a while, we were able to talk. Catching her breath, a smile came from her as she patted me on the cheek. I commanded. 

“Turn around.”

Jiwon was quite slow in turning herself over, but soon I was able to undo my shorts and put them on the floor. Yet as I readied myself to fuck her, she called my attention, and the next moment, stood right before her mouth as she laid on all fours. She just looked up at me, craning her neck forward as she stuck her tongue out and took my half-hard cock in her mouth, fingers and lips wrapping quickly over the shaft. She looked up and gave five slow bobs, without breaking eye contact, before she shut them and suddenly sped up as she gave me a quick blow, uncaring if I was twitching. Still, she knew when to stop, even when it's been a while. When her lips popped, it only looked like she put on lipstick—using my cock—and it was all ready to go.

So I finally got behind her, and with Jiwon's eyes beckoning me as she shook her butt a little. I do not think of her as one, but she sure likes to act like a whore for me sometimes. So I gave in. Slightly pushing herself back while sliding my cock between her ass, teasing entry between her folds with a loud spank. Then, I slipped in. A whimper left her, and I pushed forward, my cock disappearing between her ass with the tip causing her to flinch a bit, a long exhale then a slap on her ass as I pushed my entire length inside, the tall brunette automatically snapping into that perfect, roaring in a mix of pain and pleasure as it filled her. 

Make no mistake, she always wanted to take it. 

A hand on her hip, another on her asscheek, and I started. No slow start, those few thrusts to make sure that tight fit didn't make me finish so quickly. The quick blowjob already made sure of it. There was no love for now, only lust. I started ramping up to fuck her, as per her request. Pulling my whole length out and back in, lurching her forward as my pace started to reach a tempo. Yet amongst the slapping that started, and the chorus she began to sing, we were enjoying ourselves. Finally, having an outlet for a long week that no amount of bad habits can satisfy.

Faster now, much wetter than a minute ago. Watching Jiwon’s whole body put us in lewd perpetual motion, the recoil from her ass bouncing back at me, one leg up so I can go deeper as it was met by my loins slapping against hers. It was not long before her breaths were getting shorter and feel her wrapping around my cock, only causing me to fuck her harder. I slipped out. I wanted to try something new, so I put both my feet on the couch, much like a squat, and slipped inside her again. She felt tighter this time, with my cock quickly angling downward. This caused a long groan, then a yelp as she turned her head at me, her eyes awash with pleasure as her mouth hung open. I leaned in for a kiss without breaking tempo. Though with how hard I was and my legs already burning quite a bit, I thought it prudent to throttle back and talk for a bit, finally granting myself the satisfaction of trying a position I saw some time ago. 3-2-1, noise.

I leaned in, able to put my legs down but still deep inside Jiwon, my thrusts now at a shallower tempo. I could appreciate her folds now, thinking of myself as so lucky as her lips came onto mine. I was lost staring into her big eyes when I realized, as a single twitch almost washed us over—she was fucking herself on me—but careful to match my tempo and not preempt the inevitable.

“You’re close again?” I asked. Jiwon just nodded and replied, “Maybe you should’ve asked that earlier.”

We continued in that way for a bit, a slow, gentler interlude to the fucking she asked for. Just giving myself enough time for that tightening feeling in my gut to leave me, but I couldn’t just waste the depth I was in. Yet Jiwon was already making use of it for herself. Spank! Her back arched so I might just hit her spot, her shallow, squelchy, but undeniably needy, hops making me shut my eyes as I tried to not cum before she did. Distracting myself with her lips as she made out with me, but amidst the strong stares, flicking of tongues, and slobbering of lips, she begged for me to cum in her if I wanted to. Often, I was tongue-tied when I was close, so I tried to talk. 

“How about you first?” 

She just smirked. Jiwon smirked. It was a signal for me to do something, and I wasn’t having any of it anymore.

Grabbing her by the elbow, I pulled Jiwon up. Such an angle was just right up her spot as I took back control and jammed my hips forward, the same hand I used to pull her to me was now wrapped around her neck. She looked back with an approving smile before the second one caused her to break, making her shut her eyes and bow her head. By the third one, she was a moaning mess again. I kept to the same tempo, deep but shallow, making her feel the entirety of my length as I hit her spot again and again, all while watching her ass bounce for me. Spank! Her moans began to rise again, having done her share of the work, while I fucked her to the end of it. 

She was often at her wettest when she was close, and I couldn’t guarantee I won’t follow her this time. It was delirium from her, telling me to go harder as she shook, trying to prolong the moment before orgasm that she craved so much. Yet, I followed orders, her orders, and as her back further arched, fingers gripping where she could onto me, she came—suddenly seizing up, throwing her head back and letting out a cry of exasperation as her inside squeezed my shaft. Fuck! I tried to think of anything else to distract me from following her. At her tightest, I didn’t stop moving, slow and deliberate. How counterintuitive! But she needed to ride it through, shaking, and catching her breath, her tune changing into low, weak moans as she came down. 

Pulling out, I wondered how I didn’t follow so soon as I plopped down on the couch. Just looking at Jiwon's dripping pussy, watching as it dripped down her leg, her left ass cheek somewhat red from the few hard spanks I gave her. She was face down, ass up, though maybe she’ll have her chance to see just how long I could hold. Yet I was also asking myself: Could she still ride me?

I didn’t think of what to do next. Jiwon could always do that later; it was my turn to tire now. I acted instinctively, standing before her as she lay on her back. She could only look on in shock as I grabbed her by the leg and flipped over, almost wrapping her in the towel. 

“Wait!” Jiwon yelled. 

Then, for a second, the girl I fell in love with leaned up to kiss me, deep, but it told me something. When I opened my eyes, a tit was peeking out of her jacket, grabbing it as I gave her another peck on the lips, before moving down and sucking hungrily on her nipple. She teased me for it, as always. Having her lie down, I grabbed her legs—long as they were—that I needed to angle them a bit sideways. She laid under me, full view, big eyes, round face, a slightly sweaty, long torso, and a pussy to penetrate. Her smile almost took me out of it. 

I didn’t need a guide as I pushed myself back inside Jiwon again, watching her features curl up into a grimace as she placed her head on the armrest. Her legs closed together made her feel tighter, something we discovered a while back, but had never tried with her this wet. It did allow me to do one thing; push my entire cock in. I did, and Jiwon stopped me once, then told me to continue again. 

A few deep thrusts in, just as I was beginning to fall into her siren song, listening to her moans like the way she would kill at noraebang, I almost lost track of the fact that this was supposed to be just a quickie. I then felt that familiar weight in my gut, but this time, it felt like a necessary end, having done what I had wanted. I looked down, watching her hair splayed out and down over the armrest, much messier than when she came, her expression perfectly lewd as usual. All this as my hips slammed into her, length disappearing into her pinkish folds, the recoil continuing us on. Only then could I make out a word that snapped me out of her trance. 

“Cumming!” Who? Her? 

I looked down as Jiwon's pussy contracted around my shaft. I could take it once, but I lost my grip on her legs when it happened another time, not when I was so close, almost falling mid-thrust as they opened headfirst onto her. She just smiled at me as I caught myself. Her arms embraced me and pulled me into her lips as I continued, needing to make up for my lapse. Oh, right, I needed to fuck her. 

My hips began to move again, and leaning over Jiwon a bit, we both knew the jig was almost up. If she goes this time, I'll go too. I watched her eyes dart and saw how I was railing her on the couch. Slowly, her eyes looked back up and found where the sweat had been pooling on my thin shirt, finally managing to focus on me. She knew I missed her well enough—both in idea and as flesh—to give it everything I've got in the first round. I didn't even ask, and she already answered.

"Cum in me."

I slowed down a bit—a mere feint, more so a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable. Any longer I try, Jiwon might just tell me to stop. Too fast, and she might hit me for going too hard. I needed to time and not to lose the intensity of the moment. Putting our lips together and going deep, both savoring the feeling of leading and following her into the orgasm I owed. Her moans quickly rose in volume with her embrace pulling me tighter, even talking like a pornstar at one point. She knew she did it—and liked doing it—even if my best reply was just a strained "uh-huh". Though too many times before I already told her just how tight she was, if I did, I would cackle at how porno-like it would be saying it in such a tired state. We shared one last look before she mouthed the exact words again as she pulled me in.

Thud! Jiwon let out a squeal while our lips were together. I felt her arch her back as she tightened, with me halfway out as I felt myself follow. Grunting as I unloaded deep into her, as she wanted, being in the middle of orgasm only made us cum both so much harder. Slowing down as we turn into moaning, devolved messes. The sensitivity of it all was a high we chased and came to, and only shared between us. We have given in to our base instinct; this was the outcome. 

I just hovered over as I caught my breath. Jiwon’s lips were much redder now, another kiss, after which she scrunched her nose and said something that made me giggle too. Slowly, I pulled back and sat down, seeing the wet spot on the towel, which only confirmed why it had been so easy to do something that tight. Though I was just shocked at how much I let out when my load started dripping out the moment I pulled back. As she sat up, she told me not to worry about it before heading to the shower.

I just watched as she closed the door to the shower. Grabbing my phone, I thought about her earlier message. So much for that pink jacket; it was nice on her, and I need to throw it in the laundry. We were both sweaty messes, and I did not want it on such new furniture. 

It took thirty minutes, and then a different scene was on the couch. Jiwon and I were huddled in front of it with chopsticks on a bucket of fried chicken. There was never a dull moment with Jiwon. We were more laid back now, in new clothes, though I had to rummage from the pile she would always leave when she came over. The oversized tee she was wearing made clear she had no bra on, maybe it was intentional, or it was just cold. I think we were supposed to do round two. I’m not so sure about that now. I just needed to say something obvious to break my observation. 

“Really, dipping that much sauce with no bra?” 

“You’ve seen me naked, don’t sound surprised now.”

“Fair.” 

“And you’ll see more later too.”

[iskandersmuts]

Sleeping Pills

After Eunbi came back from Waterbomb. Due to the tiredness, she started to throw everything onto the sofa in her room, including her clothes and went to the bed to relax. Now, Eunbi was feeling so comfy after her back hit the sheets. She brought a blanket to cover herself and try to sleep.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t fall asleep because she was too tired. She looked at the clock beside her. It had been 20 minutes since she tried. After that, she realized that she had forgotten to do some of her activities. Eunbi grabbed her phone and opened her performance last evening.

Eunbi started fingering herself while watching the video, looking at the dancers behind her, remembering all the audience’s eyes on her as she danced. She knows that she’s hot. She knows that the eyes of the audience at the moment are full of desire, and she prays for that desire to be the same. Eunbi imagines herself with the boys around her, and they start to do the same thing, caressing her. The image of her imagination might not be as wild as you thought, but it’s enough to make her feel relieved.

Eunbi moaned with her eyes closed. Her moans and the sound of vaginal fluid when she was fingering echoed throughout the room without any concern for whether it was heard in the room next to her. Eunbi started using her fingers faster as she neared to climax, also imagining what would happen if she let the dancers do something more with her on stage, will the people down there get more jealousy?

Eunbi also massaged her own big saggy tits that nearly popped out of the loosely bra on stage. She might panic if it blobbed while doing her sideways choreography. But now, she might have let it happen and said it was an accident.

‘Ummm… Ahhh…. Fuck. Fuck me. Ahhhh… Destroy my pussy and tits. Pull my necklace hard and choke me. Ahhh… Fuck….’

She tried to create the sex scene in her head. At a random place, a random man in the festival put the dick inside her and try to fuck her, by pulling down her short jeans and white bikini panties, showing her wet pinky juicy vagina. Eunbi accepted it willingly and let him do what he wanted to meet the needs of both. She wants someone who fucks hard and also touch every parts on her body, banging in the Doggystyle and Missionary position, and sliding deeper until it hit the wall.

Then, Eunbi just cummed everywhere on her sheets, the water was around below her, the squirt just went down on the flow. Eunbi let out a big sigh after she spurted.

Eunbi trying to sleep again. But in her head, she still has those images that she tried to imagine. The image still struck in her mind. After that, she got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to bring the 7-inches dildo. Eunbi picked it up with the lubes and went back to her bed.

She thought again about the last evening. There was one man around there that's so handsome for her. He is definitely her type. Eunbi wants to suck and fuck him at the moment. Eunbi imagined the guy in front of her taking off his pants and letting her suck his dick. She take the position directly

Eunbi started to sucked on the dildo to create the saliva as a lube. Her sucking skill is so good, it might make a strong man’s legs shake. The tongue roaming around the toy, her deepthroat was reaching the entire length. Her sucking pace was fast which can make people cum in the blink of an eye. As time passed, she got sloppier, her dildo was covered in saliva. She could have thrown away her lubes.

The saliva stains were on the sheets, same as the squirt from the first time. After that, she changed the position, putting the dildo under her folds, poked and teased a little bit before putting the entire length inside her.

She screamed out a big groan. Again, she didn’t care about the neighbors anymore. Eunbi, sitting and pushing the whole dildo inside her, felt a little nauseated but still could continue. She slowly moved up. She felt a thrill and shivering entire body. After she adjusted to it, she started to go harder, moving all the way up and down but trying not to let it slip out. She feels like she is riding an imaginary man’s dick.

‘Oh.. Fuck, daddy. My body is yours. I give my whole body to this dick. I can fuck this dick for my entire life. F-Fuck… AHHH… Just make me cum. Just make me cum again. Make me cum over this dick, daddy. Oh my god.. F-FUCK’

Eunbi closed her eyes with her tense face. She bit her tongue because of the sensation. She made a sound in her head that the man was almost done, but the sound in the room was just her moaning and the bed squeaking. Eunbi goes faster to reach near her orgasm. She rides smoother than recently, not all the way up and all the way down.

‘AHHH.. FUCK.. MAKE M-ME FUCKING C-CUM ALREADY… OH MY G-GOD.. THIS DICK T-TREAT ME SO GOOD… MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A DICK ADDICTED… AH-AHHH'

Then, Eunbi came all over the place. Replace the first one. She removed herself from the dildo and covered it with her water. Her body was shaking when she got up and collapsed after that.

[iskandersmuts]

Visiting

Staring : male oc x Kwon Eunbi and little cameo from Karina Aespa

Tags : cucklod female, Titjob, blowjob, voyeurisme, fingering, cum transfer, sharing cum, lesbian, titjob, breeding, creampie.

Length : 11000 words

"Keep it baby, suck my cock," you murmured, watching as your wife, Yoo Karina, took you in with a practiced ease. Her eight-month-pregnant belly, a soft mound of life, pushed against the bed with each of your gentle thrusts, her dark hair spilling over the pillow. The room was a still canvas of muted light, the afternoon sun peeking through the blinds and casting a warm glow on her bare skin. Despite the limitations of her pregnancy, she was eager to please, her eyes fluttering closed in concentration as she worked her mouth around you. But your mind wandered, seeking more than the solace she could provide today.

The air grew thick with the scent of sex and anticipation. You couldn't ignore the tightness in your balls, the urge to let go and mark her face with your release. You whispered, "I want to cum, baby," and she looked up, her eyes gleaming with desire. She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips as she took your cock out of her mouth, her hand continuing to pump you gently. "On my face," she breathed, her voice thick with lust, "Your load on my face, honey." The words sent a shiver down your spine, the intimacy of the moment only heightened by the knowledge of the life growing inside her.

With a feral growl, you stroked your cock hard and fast, the pressure building as your eyes locked onto hers. The room was silent except for the slick sound of your hand and her heavy breathing, the tension palpable as you approached the edge. Suddenly, you erupted, your semen spurting in thick ropes that splattered across her face, painting her cheeks and hair with your essence. She gasped, a mix of surprise and pleasure, her eyes closing as your hot seed coated her skin. Her full breasts rose and fell with her quickened breath, the tips of her nipples erect from the excitement.

Leaning back, you admired your handiwork, watching as the last drops of cum clung to her lashes before they, too, gave in to gravity. You reached over, your fingers grazing the sticky mess on her face, and scooped up a dollop of the thick, white liquid. With a gentle touch, you traced her bottom lip with it before pushing it into her mouth. Karina's eyes fluttered open, a tired smile playing on her lips as she obediently parted them to accept your offering. She swallowed with a gulp, her throat bobbing as she took the warm, salty taste of you deep into her mouth.

"You're still hard, Honey," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. You looked down at your cock, still standing proud and defiant despite the release you'd just had. "You look tired," you said with a knowing smile. "I can do it myself."

Her eyes searched yours, a flicker of guilt playing in their depths. "I know you want more," she said softly, her hand reaching for you once again. "But I just can't." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her pregnancy. She stroked your still-throbbing cock gently, her touch light and soothing. "It's okay, Karina," you assured her, taking her hand in yours and bringing it to your lips for a tender kiss. "You've given me everything." But deep down, you both knew the truth. Her body was a fortress of love, a vessel for new life, but it was also a cage that kept her from fully satisfying your desires.

With a sigh, you kissed her forehead and slid off the bed. Your cock, now smeared with the last traces of your release and her saliva, remained firm, demanding more. You walked into the bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast against the sticky warmth of your skin. The mirror reflected your image, your muscles taut with unsated lust. You turned on the shower, letting the water heat up as you leaned against the sink, stroking yourself to the rhythm of the falling drops. Your hand was a blur of motion, the sound of your palm smacking against your shaft echoing off the tiles.

You closed your eyes and conjured an image of Karina, her belly not as swollen, her body agile and eager. In your mind, she straddled you, her wet pussy enveloping your cock as you drove into her with wild abandon. The steam began to fog the mirror, blurring the line between reality and fantasy. You pictured her moaning, her nails digging into your back, begging for you to go deeper, faster. Your hand moved with renewed vigor, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

The shower spray grew hotter, the water cascading down your body as you pumped away at your cock, the frustration and need building within you. Each stroke brought you closer to the edge, the image of your wife's face, stained with your cum, fueling your desire. You felt your orgasm approaching, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself upright. With a final, desperate squeeze, you came, ropes of thick white cum painting the toilet seat and the floor.

The next day, the aroma of a nutritious breakfast filled the kitchen. You had risen early to prepare a feast for Karina, determined to care for her in every way possible, even if it couldn't satisfy the carnal hunger that gnawed at you. The sizzle of eggs, the sweet scent of berries, and the earthy aroma of whole-grain toast filled the air. You had meticulously researched pregnancy diets, eager to give her the nourishment she needed and craved. As you plated her meal, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment for the life inside her that kept you from fully claiming her body.

With a plate in hand, you tiptoed into the bedroom, where Karina lay sprawled out, her belly a round hill beneath the covers. You kissed her forehead gently, feeling the warmth of her skin against your lips, then placed your hand on her belly, whispering, "Good morning, baby," to the life growing within her. A smile played on her lips, and she opened her eyes, blinking sleepily at you. "And good morning to my child," you murmured, trying to keep the longing from your voice. Karina's eyes sparkled with love as she placed a hand over yours, her fingers intertwining with yours.

Before she could speak, the shrill sound of the doorbell pierced the quiet of the morning. You both stiffened, the serene moment shattered by the intrusion. "I'll get it," you offered, setting the plate down on the nightstand. She nodded, her gaze never leaving yours, the unspoken conversation of your bodies lingering in the air.

As you approached the front door, the anticipation grew, your hand hovering over the doorknob. When you swung the door open, the sight that greeted you was as unexpected as it was electrifying. A woman you had never seen before, dressed in a tight red tank top that barely contained her ample breasts and short denim cut-offs that clung to her thick, toned thighs, stood on the porch. The hem of her shirt was riding up, revealing a sliver of smooth, seductive belly. Her hair was a wild tangle of curls, and her dark eyes danced with mischief.

"Who are you?" you blurted out, your heart racing. But before the question could fully form in the air, a voice from behind you cut through the tension. "Eunbi unnie, you came!" exclaimed Karina, her voice filled with warmth and excitement. The stranger's eyes lit up at the sound of her name, and she stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

They embraced, their laughter mingling with the sound of their bodies reuniting after a long absence. As they held each other's hands, Eunbi said, "I miss you so much, Karina." Karina's smile was bittersweet as she replied, "Me too, the last time we met was before I dated my husband now."

The tension in the air shifted as the two friends caught up, their voices filling the space with stories of past adventures and future dreams. Eunbi's vibrant energy was a stark contrast to Karina's tired, but contented demeanor. She was a whirlwind of excitement, her gestures animated, her laughter infectious. You found yourself drawn to her, not just by her beauty, but by the way she made Karina's eyes sparkle with life again.

As you listened, you couldn't help but feel a little awkward, a silent observer to their reunion. But Karina noticed your curiosity and, with a warm smile, made the introduction you'd been waiting for. "Honey, this is Kwon Eunbi. She was my senior at work before we had to move."

Eunbi held out her hand, her grip firm and her touch electrifying. "My name is Kwon Eunbi," she said with a wink. You replied, "My name is Kim Dokja, and I'm Karina's husband."

As the two of you shook hands, you felt an unexpected spark of arousal. Her skin was soft, her fingers lingering against yours with a gentle pressure that was somehow both innocent and seductive. The sensation sent a jolt of excitement straight to your groin, making you aware of the stark contrast between the two of you. You had to admit, the sight of her was a welcome change from the heavy burden of responsibility that had come with Karina's pregnancy.

But you quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding yourself of your vows, your commitment to your wife. You cleared your throat and took a step back, pulling your hand away from hers. "It's nice to meet you, Eunbi," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. You could see the playful curiosity in her eyes, as if she'd felt the same current of attraction that had just coursed through you.

With a smile on her face, Karina announced, "Eunbi Unnie is going to stay here with us for two months. She's just come back from her travels, and she's got nowhere to go." You felt a sudden tightening in your chest. Two months with Eunbi, so close, so tempting? You managed a smile, "Of course," you said awkwardly, "You're welcome to stay."

As Karina led Eunbi to the spare room, you couldn't help but watch the sway of her hips, the way her ass moved in those tight shorts, and the way her breasts bounced with each step she took. It had been so long since you'd felt the touch of a woman that wasn't your heavily pregnant wife, and your cock responded to the sight with a twitch of anticipation. You took a deep breath and followed them, trying to ignore the traitorous thoughts that began to swirl in your mind.

The next day dawned with the promise of heaven and hell. Eunbi strutted around the house in a pair of short shorts that barely covered her ass, and a lacy bra that did nothing to hide her erect nipples. Her tanned skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and her dark hair was a wild mess of curls that screamed for a man's touch. She flirted with you shamelessly, her eyes lingering on your chest and her lips curling into a knowing smile every time she saw you. It was as if she could sense the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

You tried to keep your thoughts in check, focusing on your morning routine and avoiding any unnecessary contact. But each time she passed by, the faint scent of her perfume, something sweet and exotic, tickled your nose and sent a bolt of lust straight to your groin. It was torture, pure and simple, and you found yourself counting down the minutes until she would leave the house, giving you a reprieve from the heavenly torment.

The next day dawned with the promise of heaven and hell. Eunbi strutted around the house in a pair of short shorts that barely covered her ass, and a lacy bra that did nothing to hide her erect nipples. Her tanned skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and her dark hair was a wild mess of curls that screamed for a man's touch. She flirted with you shamelessly, her eyes lingering on your chest and her lips curling into a knowing smile every time she saw you. It was as if she could sense the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

You tried to keep your thoughts in check, focusing on your morning routine and avoiding any unnecessary contact. But each time she passed by, the faint scent of her perfume, something sweet and exotic, tickled your nose and sent a bolt of lust straight to your groin. It was torture, pure and simple, and you found yourself counting down the minutes until she would leave the house, giving you a reprieve from the heavenly torment.

But even as you worked from home, the sounds of Eunbi's laughter and the rustle of fabric as she moved about in her barely-there outfit floated to your ears, taunting your resolve. You could feel your eyes straying from your computer screen, seeking her out even when you knew you shouldn't. The way she bent over to pick up a fallen book, the curve of her ass outlined so clearly against the fabric of her shorts, was enough to make you bite back a groan. It was as if she was putting on a show just for you, each movement a deliberate tease.

That evening, you were in the living room when you heard the sound of the shower running upstairs. The image of Eunbi's naked body, wet and glistening, washed away the last of your resistance. You found yourself picturing her soaping up her full breasts, her hand slipping down between her legs, and you felt your cock swell in response. With a shaky hand, you adjusted your pants, trying to ignore the ache growing in your balls.

As the water continued to run, you couldn't resist the temptation to sneak a peek. You tiptoed upstairs, your heart thumping in your chest like a drum. The bathroom door was ajar, and through the gap, you could see a slice of heaven. The misty glass of the shower stall obscured most of her, but what you could make out was enough to drive you wild—the curve of her hip, the shadow of her hand moving in lazy circles on her skin. You leaned closer, your breath fogging the glass, your eyes straining to see more.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles was a symphony of seduction, the droplets tracing a tantalizing path down her body. You bit your lip, your hand inching closer to the handle, the need to open the door and join her almost overpowering. But you paused, remembering your vows, the promise you made to Karina, and the respect she deserved. With a Herculean effort, you stepped back, your cock straining against your pants, begging for relief.

Eunbi's laughter echoed through the house as she danced to the music playing in her headphones, oblivious to the storm raging in your mind. You retreated to your room, the walls feeling as if they were closing in around you. The sight of her, so carefree and tempting, was like a siren's call, luring you into dangerous waters. You knew you had to keep your distance, to protect not only your marriage but also the friendship between the two women.

But the days grew longer, and the nights even more so. The tension between you and Eunbi was a palpable thing, thick and heavy in the air. You found yourself making excuses to be in the same room with her, to watch her every move, to inhale her intoxicating scent. And she didn't seem to be making things easier for you. Her outfits grew skimpier, her gestures more flirtatious. It was as if she reveled in the power she had over you, a power she had no intention of giving up.

Then the other day, Karina looked at you with a mischievous smile and said, "I'm going to have a pregnancy yoga exercise with my mother, you can stay here with Eunbi." Your eyes widened, and you felt your heart skip a beat. "Why should mother accompany you, can't I do it?" you asked, trying to keep the hope out of your voice. Karina's expression grew thoughtful before she replied, "Isn't Eunbi a guest here? It's not good to leave her alone here."

The house was eerily quiet once Karina and her mother left. The only sound was the distant hum of cars on the street outside and the thundering of your own heart in your chest. You sat in the chair opposite Eunbi, trying to keep the conversation light, but the weight of the silence was too much. You found yourself getting lost in the dark pools of her eyes, the way her teeth played with her bottom lip as she spoke, the way her breasts moved with every breath she took.

"Let's watch a movie," Eunbi suggested, her voice a whisper that seemed to carry the promise of something more than just a cinematic experience. "I heard there's a new action flick on Netflix."

You nodded, relieved to have something to focus on other than her tantalizing presence. "Sounds good," you managed to croak out, trying to keep your voice steady. You settled on the couch, leaving a respectable distance between the two of you, as she turned on the TV and navigated to the film. The cool leather was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, the anticipation of being alone with her making you sweat despite the air conditioner's best efforts.

The movie began with a bang, the sound of gunfire and the screech of tires filling the room. The hero, a stoic and handsome cop, chased the villain through the crowded streets of a bustling city. You found yourself getting lost in the story, the explosive action a welcome distraction from your own tumultuous thoughts. But every time the female villain appeared on screen, you couldn't help but feel your cock twitch in your pants, the tight leather of her catsuit clinging to her curves like a second skin.

Eunbi sat closer to you than was necessary, her thigh pressing against yours, sending waves of heat through your body. You tried to focus on the screen, but your eyes kept drifting to her, the way her breasts bounced as she leaned forward, the way her thighs shifted with every heart-racing car chase. The plot of the movie was good, but your mind kept wandering back to the forbidden fruit sitting so tantalizingly close.

The film's climax was a high-speed chase on motorcycles, the hero and villainess weaving through traffic, bullets flying, and explosions lighting up the night. You found yourself leaning in, your heart pounding in sync with the adrenaline on screen. But your gaze kept flickering to Eunbi's hand, resting on her knee, so close to your own. The tension in the room was thick, a heady mix of unspoken desires and the unyielding loyalty to your wife

Then, as the explosions grew louder and the chase grew more intense, Eunbi suddenly gasped, "Ah... very hot!" You turned to her, expecting to see her fanning herself, but instead, she reached back and with a swift motion, pulled her red box shirt over her head, revealing her ample breasts encased in a white lacy bra that struggled to contain them. She fanned herself with the shirt, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yes," you said, your voice a little too high, "It's very hot in here." You couldn't help but stare at the creamy mounds of flesh spilling out of the bra, the fabric cutting into the soft flesh, creating a delicious sight that made your mouth go dry.

"Ehm... Eunbi-ssi," you stuttered, "I can make us a cold drink if you want." She looked at you with a knowing smile, her eyes never leaving your face. "Sure," she purred, "Lemon tea would be perfect. I'm feeling... very hot." The way she said "very hot" was almost a challenge, the allure of her voice wrapping around the words like a silk scarf. You nodded, your throat tight with desire, and practically bolted to the kitchen, your cock bobbing in your pants.

The cold tiles beneath your feet were a welcome relief as you tried to compose yourself. You filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove, fumbling with the knob as you turned the heat up. You could hear Eunbi's laughter from the living room, the sound of her voice mingling with the squeal of tires and gunfire from the movie. It was all too much, the anticipation and the need. You took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the throbbing in your groin.

Finally, the tea was ready. You filled two glasses with ice, the clinking sound a stark reminder of the frozen state of your resolve. As you carried the drinks back to the couch, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander to her chest, her full, round breasts straining against the delicate fabric of her bra. The sweat that glistened on her skin was like a siren's call, begging you to touch, to taste. You took a deep breath and stepped into the room, placing the glasses on the coffee table with a shaking hand.

"The drinks are ready," you announced, your voice a little too loud in the quiet room. Eunbi turned to look at you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She took the glass you offered her, her eyes never leaving yours as her hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The cool condensation was a stark contrast to the heat of your palm, and you felt your cock stir in your pants. You sat back down, the couch groaning under your weight, and took a sip of your tea, hoping the chill would calm your racing thoughts.

Eunbi's eyes never left you as she brought the glass to her lips, her tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop of lemon tea that clung to the edge. She took a sip, her full, pink lips closing around the rim with a delicate grace that had you mesmerized. As she swallowed, a few drops trickled down her neck, tracing a tantalizing path down her chest until they pooled in the valley between her breasts.

The fabric of her bra strained against the weight of her breasts, and a bead of cold tea slipped from the straw and ran down the side of her chin. Without thinking, you reached out and wiped it away with your thumb, the touch sending a bolt of lightning straight to your cock. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as your eyes locked with hers, the air thick with unspoken need. And then, with a clatter, the glass slipped from your trembling hand, the cold liquid spilling onto your crotch.

"Oh, it's all wet," you said, the words coming out more as a choked gasp than a statement. Eunbi's eyes widened, and she sat up with a start, her gaze dropping to the dark patch spreading across your pants. For a moment, there was silence, the only sound the distant throb of the TV's bass and the thundering of your pulse in your ears. And then, in a heartbeat, she was standing in front of you, her eyes gleaming with a mix of concern and something else, something darker, something that sent your pulse racing.

With a grace that seemed almost predatory, she bent over, her breasts straining against the wet fabric of her bra, the lace threatening to give way and reveal the treasure beneath. "Let me help clean up," she murmured, her voice a sweet, seductive whisper.

Her hand slid to your crotch, and your body responded immediately, your cock growing even harder under her gentle touch. "No... Not... You don't have to," you stammered, but it was all too late. The die had been cast, and there was no going back.

Eunbi's fingers danced around the outline of your cock, the fabric of your pants growing taut as your arousal grew. Her eyes never left yours, a smoldering fire burning deep within her gaze. You could see the desire in her face, the same desire that mirrored your own, and it was a heady, intoxicating feeling that made you question everything.

"Eunbi," you choked out, "I don't think this is a good idea." But your words lacked conviction, and she knew it. With a wry smile, she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your neck. "I think it's a great idea," she whispered, her other hand coming to rest on the bulge. "You're so... hard for me."

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You were hard for her, your body betraying your every thought, every desire. Your eyes grew wide, and you swallowed hard, trying to form a coherent protest, but she was already moving, her hand sliding down the front of your pants.

Eunbi's eyes widened in a mix of shock and delight as she took in the size of your erection. "Hmm," she murmured, her voice low and sultry, "Karina's really been enjoying this all to herself." The words were a siren's song, a declaration of intent that sent a shiver down your spine. You felt your resolve crumbling, the walls you had so carefully built around your marriage threatening to collapse under the weight of her touch.

Before you could react, her hand was on your shaft, her grip firm but gentle. She began to stroke you, her movements slow and deliberate, her thumb brushing against the sensitive head of your cock with a practiced ease that spoke of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. You groaned, unable to hold back the sound of pleasure that had been building inside you for so long.

"You're so big," Eunbi murmured, her voice filled with wonder. "Karina is so lucky to have this all to herself." Her words were a sweet agony, a reminder of the promise you had made to your wife, and yet, they only served to fuel the fire that burned within you. You felt the heat of her breath against your neck, the brush of her hair against your skin, and the pressure building in your cock was almost unbearable.

Her hand began to glide up and down the length of your shaft, her touch feather-light, teasing, as if she was savoring every inch of you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and a low groan of pleasure escaped your lips. You felt your body leaning into her touch, desperate for more, even as your mind screamed for you to stop, to push her away. But the feeling was too intense, too good to resist.

Eunbi's hand grew wet with your precum, and she brought her thumb to her mouth, licking it off with a look that was equal parts innocent and seductive. The sight was almost your undoing, your cock jerking in her hand as she leaned closer, her warm breath fanning against your skin. You knew what she was going to do before she did it, and the anticipation was agonizing. Her mouth hovered over the tip, her eyes never leaving yours as she took a deep breath.

And then, with one swift motion, she engulfed your entire length, her wet, warm mouth sliding down over your shaft like a tight glove. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt, the suction of her lips, the dance of her tongue, the pressure of her throat. You couldn't hold back the strangled cry that tore from your chest, your hand flying to the back of her head, gripping her hair as she began to bob up and down. The sound of her sucking filled the room, mingling with the sounds of the action movie playing in the background.

"Fuck," you groaned, your eyes squeezed shut, as you felt the tension coil in your stomach. You had never cheated on Karina, never even thought about it before, but here you were, with another woman's mouth on your cock, her throat working around you. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was... absolutely amazing. Eunbi's grip on your base was firm, her hand pumping in time with her mouth.

You couldn't help but look down at the sight of her, kneeling between your legs, her eyes closed in pleasure as she took you deep. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red and swollen from the abuse, and a line of drool trailed down her chin, pooling in her cleavage. Her breasts, still confined by the drenched bra, bobbed with every movement, and you had the sudden urge to rip it off and watch them bounce freely.

With a snarl that was more animal than human, your hands clenched into fists, grasping her hair, and you slammed your mouth down onto her throbbing cock. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the room, mingling with the grunts and cries from the TV. Her eyes shot open, wide with surprise, and she took you in deeper, her throat muscles constricting around you as she choked back a moan.

You couldn't help but look down at the sight of her, kneeling between your legs, her eyes closed in pleasure as she took you deep. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red and swollen from the abuse, and a line of drool trailed down her chin, pooling in her cleavage. Her breasts, still confined by the drenched bra, bobbed with every movement, and you had the sudden urge to rip it off and watch them bounce freely.

Then, as if reading your thoughts, Eunbi's hand patted your thighs gently, and you knew exactly what she wanted. With a final, lingering kiss to the tip of your cock, she released you from her warm embrace. You pulled out of her mouth with a soft pop, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, her chest rising and falling heavily. You watched as she sat back on her heels, a look of satisfaction on her face that was impossible to miss.

With surprising grace, she reached behind her and unclipped her bra, the straps slipping down her arms like silk ribbons. The fabric fell away, revealing her breasts in all their glory. They were indeed melon-sized, with large, brown areolas and perky, hard nipples that begged for attention. "I know you've always been staring at my tits from the first time we met," she said, her voice a smoky purr. "And now, it's time for you to taste them."

Eunbi straddled your lap, the heat of her pussy radiating through the thin fabric of her shorts. She leaned in close, her breasts pressing against your face, the scent of her skin and the faint hint of arousal driving you wild. Her nipples grazed your cheeks, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine, making your cock throb in response. You felt the weight of her on you, the warmth of her flesh, and you knew that you were crossing a line that you could never uncross.

With a growl that was part lust, part resentment, you whispered, "Fuck the line," and buried your face in the soft, velvety mounds of her breasts. Your tongue found one of her nipples, teasing it to a stiff peak before taking it into your mouth, sucking hard. She gasped, her body quivering, and you felt a rush of power and desire that was almost overwhelming. You switched to the other, giving it the same treatment, feeling it grow hard under your ministrations, the taste of her skin on your tongue like the sweetest nectar.

Her breasts were indeed as heavenly as you had imagined, the softness of her flesh yielding to your mouth, the sound of your wet suckling muffled by the flesh surrounding you. Eunbi's hands found the back of your head, pulling you closer, her hips rocking against you. You felt the heat from her pussy, the wetness seeping through her shorts and onto your thighs. Her breathing grew ragged, her moans matching the rhythm of your suckling.

With every pass of your tongue, you could feel her nipples tighten further, the areolas growing more sensitive to your touch. You knew you had to have more of her, to explore the depths of the desires she had unlocked in you. With one hand, you reached up and cupped her other breast, kneading it gently, rolling the nipple between your thumb and forefinger. She responded with a moan that was music to your ears, her body arching back, offering herself up to you.

But just as you were about to slip a hand into her shorts and feel the heat of her pussy, the world around you shattered. Karina's voice, faint at first, grew louder, cutting through the haze of passion like a knife. "I'm going home..." she called out from the doorway, her tone trailing off as she took in the scene before her.

You jolted upright, your cheeks burning with guilt, and saw your wife standing there, her eyes wide with shock and... amusement? "Honey, this isn't what you think," you stuttered, trying to pull away from Eunbi. But she was still straddling you, her breasts heaving with every breath, her hand resting possessively on your chest.

Karina's gaze flicked from you to Eunbi, and then back again, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Isn't it?" she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "It looks pretty obvious to me." Despite the situation, she didn't seem upset. Instead, she placed a hand on her distended belly and snorted, "If you're going to do this, you better take it to your room, What if someone passes by? "

Eunbi's laughter, rich and genuine, filled the space between you, and your confusion grew. It was as if you had stumbled into a play where you didn't know the script. "What's going on?" you managed to croak out, your throat tight with guilt and lust.

Karina's smile grew wider, and she took a step closer, placing a hand on Eunbi's shoulder. "You haven't told him yet?" she said, her voice teasing.

Eunbi giggled, her cheeks flushing a delicious shade of pink. "No," she admitted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"I... I don't understand," you stammered, your eyes darting between the two of them. Karina's face was a mask of feigned innocence, while Eunbi's was a canvas of smug satisfaction. The room felt like it was closing in around you, the air thick with the scent of lust and betrayal.

Eunbi leaned back, her breasts still bared, and spoke in a tone that was both matter-of-fact and playfully seductive. "Your lovely wife," she began, gesturing to Karina with a graceful wave of her hand, "has been feeling rather inadequate in the... bedroom department, given her current condition." She paused, her eyes flicking down to Karina's swollen belly, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "So, she asked me to come over and help out."

Karina's eyes never left yours as she spoke, a hint of apology mixed with something else, something darker. "I know you've been feeling neglected," she said, her voice low and soothing. "And I can't bear to see you like this." She stepped closer, her hand sliding over Eunbi's thigh, her gaze holding yours. "So, I asked Eunbi to help us, to give you what you need."

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and you felt your cock twitch at the implication. "We've always shared everything," Eunbi said, her hand sliding down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to hers. "And your desires are no exception." She leaned in and kissed you, her lips soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the fiery passion you had just experienced. You could taste the tea on her tongue, a reminder of the innocent facade you had been living under.

You kissed her back, tasting the faint tang of lemon tea on her lips, and when she pulled away, you nodded, your voice thick with need. "It's okay if that's what you both want," you said, trying to process the sudden turn of events. You looked over at Karina, expecting anger or jealousy, but instead, she was smiling, a wicked glint in her eye.

With trembling hands, you picked her up, her round belly pressing against your chest as she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Of course, baby," you murmured, your voice hoarse with need, "you can only see." Her giggle was like a spark in a dry forest, igniting the passion that had been smoldering between you all afternoon.

You carried her into your room, her legs draped over your arms, her bare breasts jiggling slightly with every step. Eunbi trailed behind you, her hips swaying in a way that made your cock throb anew. You laid Karina down gently on the bed, her eyes never leaving yours, a silent question hanging in the air. "Is this what you want?" you asked, your voice a whisper. She nodded, her smile filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

Eunbi leaned over Karina, her breasts hanging tantalizingly close to her face, and whispered something in her ear. Karina's cheeks flushed, and she nodded again, her eyes glazed with lust. "That is my girl," Eunbi murmured, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She turned to you, the smirk on her face growing wider. "Let's continue our business, Dokja-ssi."

With a grace that was almost taunting, Eunbi hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her denim shorts and began to lower them, her hips swaying seductively with each movement. You watched, transfixed, as the fabric slid over her thick thighs, revealing the matching lacy white panties that hugged her curves. She stepped out of the shorts, standing before you in just her panties and a knowing smile. "Now, this is where the fun begins," she said, her voice a siren's call.

You felt your heart pound in your chest, your eyes drawn to the delicate lace that barely contained her sex. The fabric was damp, the scent of her arousal filling the room. "Can you take these off with your mouth?" she asked, her voice a challenge. The words were like a spell, breaking the last of your resistance. You leaned in, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting her, of feeling the warmth of her skin against your lips.

Like a hungry dog eager for a treat, you stuck out your tongue, tracing the line of her panties from the base of her belly down to the apex of her thighs. Eunbi's breath caught in her throat as you licked the fabric, her hips jutting forward slightly, silently begging for more. You felt the fabric grow wet with your saliva, the scent of her desire strong and intoxicating.

With a growl of your own, you sank your teeth into the delicate lace, tearing it away from her body. The fabric gave way with surprising ease, revealing the treasure beneath. Her pussy was a vision, swollen and glistening with her arousal. You couldn't help but let out a low moan at the sight, your eyes glazing over with pure, unadulterated lust.

Karina watched, her eyes hooded with desire, as you buried your face in Eunbi's sex. Your tongue slid along her folds, tasting the sweetness that was uniquely hers. You felt her shiver at the first touch, her legs spreading wider, giving you better access. Your hands slid up her thighs, gripping her hips as you feasted on her, your tongue delving deep, exploring every crevice, every hidden spot that made her moan.

Eunbi's head fell back, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on to what was left of her composure. "Shit, Karina," she gasped, her voice strangled with pleasure. "His mouth... it's like nothing I've ever felt." You felt a thrill at her words, knowing that you were giving her something that she hadn't expected, something that she craved.

As you continued to explore Eunbi's wet folds, your tongue circling her clit, you heard Karina's voice, breathy and filled with excitement. "Fuck, yes," she moaned, her hand guiding your movements. "Just like that, baby. You're making her feel so good." The sight of your wife's fingers playing with her own pussy was too much, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from coming right then and there.

Eunbi's taste was indeed different from Karina's, but no less intoxicating. Her pussy was like a warm, velvety heaven that you couldn't get enough of, the sweetness of her arousal coating your mouth and making you hunger for more. Her moans grew louder, her body tensing as you found the perfect rhythm, your tongue flicking and stroking in a dance that had her hips bucking against your face.

Her folds were tighter, narrower than what you were used to, and the sensation was both thrilling and intimate. Each stroke of your tongue sent a shockwave through her body, and you reveled in the power you had over her. You felt like a connoisseur of pleasure, savoring the distinct flavor and feeling of her sex, something that was uniquely Eunbi's.

"Oh god," she moaned, her voice strained with pleasure. "Fuck, your mouth is so good." Her words were a symphony, echoing through your mind, pushing you to give her more. You could feel the walls of her pussy tighten around your tongue, her body coiling like a spring about to snap. She was close, so very close, and the knowledge of it had your cock aching for relief.

But your eyes were drawn to Karina, whose own hand was a blur as she feverishly worked her clit. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest rising and falling with each desperate moan. "Mmmh," she murmured, her eyes locked onto your reflection in the mirror, watching you pleasure her friend. "I can't take it anymore, I want to cum." The sight of her, so close to climax, was like a siren's call, demanding that you give in to the overwhelming tide of lust that surrounded you.

With a final, fierce suck on Eunbi's clit, you felt her body convulse around your face, her legs tightening around your head. She let out a scream that was half pleasure, half pain, as she came, her pussy pulsing against your tongue. And as she did, Karina's own orgasm crashed over her, her body arching off the bed, her hand still working her clit as she watched her friend's face contort with ecstasy.

The room was a cacophony of sounds, Eunbi's cries of pleasure mingling with Karina's moans of satisfaction. You felt a strange sense of accomplishment, knowing that you had brought these two beautiful women to the brink of ecstasy, knowing that you had been the one to push them over.

Eunbi's legs went slack around your head, her body collapsing onto the mattress like a ragdoll. Her pussy quivered, releasing a torrent of fluids that you eagerly lapped up, your tongue greedy for every drop. It was like a fountain of pure desire, a nectar that you couldn't get enough of. You felt the stickiness on your chin, the sweetness coating your tongue as you continued to lick her, savoring the taste of her release.

With a final, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, you sat up and turned to face Karina. Her eyes were hooded with lust, her hand still buried between her legs, her fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. The scent of Eunbi's orgasm filled the air, a heady perfume that was driving you both wild. You leaned over and captured Karina's mouth in a sloppy kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth and sharing the taste of Eunbi with her.

"How does my best friend's liquid taste?" she asked, her voice a sultry whisper. You could feel her watching you, waiting for your answer, her eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

You took a moment to savor the lingering flavor of Eunbi's orgasm, the sweetness of her arousal still coating your mouth. "Great," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "Now, may I enter your best friend?"

Karina's eyes darkened with a hunger that mirrored your own. "Yes," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "Take her, claim what's yours." She nodded towards Eunbi, whose legs were still spread wide, her pussy glistening with the evidence of her climax. The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable, and you knew that she was just as eager for this as you were.

With trembling hands, you stood up, your cock pointing straight at the ceiling, a testament to the desire that had been building within you all day. Eunbi watched you, her chest heaving with each ragged breath, her eyes never leaving your throbbing erection. She reached down and touched herself, her fingers playing in the slickness of her own juices, spreading them around her clit. "You've made quite a mess of me," she murmured, her voice a siren's call that had your blood racing.

Her smile grew wider, more seductive, as she beckoned you closer with a crooked finger. "Finally," she said, her voice a whisper that seemed to resonate through your entire body, "bring your big cock to my itchy pussy." The words were like a spell, breaking any remaining resistance you had. You stepped closer, feeling the heat from her body, the scent of her desire wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

With a gentle touch, you placed your hands on her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin, the slight tremble of her muscles. Her legs fell open with an almost audible sigh, revealing the slick folds of her sex. Eunbi's own hand followed, her slender fingers tracing the pink, puffy flesh of her labia. She parted them, giving you an unobstructed view of the wet, glistening pinkness that awaited you. It was a sight that stole your breath, a vision that had your cock pulsing with need.

You took yourself in hand, stroking your erection, feeling the weight and the heat of it. You watched as Eunbi's eyes fell to your movements, her own breath hitching as she watched you touch yourself. Her pussy was like a secret garden, begging to be explored, and you were more than ready to oblige.

With a final, almost reverent stroke, you positioned yourself between her legs. You could feel the anticipation building, a coil of tension in your belly that threatened to snap. You took the head of your cock and pressed it against her wet entrance, feeling the tightness of her folds as they parted for you. She gasped, her body tensing, as you pushed in, inch by glorious inch, her walls clutching at you like a tight, velvet fist.

"Wow..." you murmured, your eyes locked on hers. "Your pussy is so tight, Eunbi-ssi." Her eyes sparkled with mischief and pleasure at your words, and she replied with a breathy moan, "Your dick is also very big, Dokja-ssi." It was a simple exchange, but it sent a bolt of lightning straight to your balls.

You began to move, sliding in and out of her with a deliberate slowness that had you both on the edge of madness. Each thrust was a symphony of sensation, the tightness of her pussy a perfect match for the thickness of your cock. You watched as her face contorted with each movement, a mix of pleasure and pain that was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. Her eyes never left yours, a silent communication of need and desire that was more potent than any spoken word.

With each stroke, you felt her tighten around you, her body fighting against the intrusion even as it begged for more. Her nails dug into the sheets, her toes curling with each gasp. You could see the effort it took for her to keep her legs open, the muscles in her thighs quivering with the strain. But she never once asked you to stop, never once suggested that it was too much. Instead, she leaned into the sensation, her body arching off the bed as you pushed deeper and deeper.

Karina's words were a command, a demand that sent a shockwave through you. You watched as she began to strip, her movements deliberate and sensual. Her pregnant belly jiggled as she removed her clothes, her breasts swollen and sensitive. She sat up, her hand slipping between her legs, her eyes never leaving yours as she began to stroke herself. "Yes," she murmured, her voice thick with need, "fuck her hard Eunbi unnie, baby."

Her naked body was a feast for your eyes, her swollen belly a stark contrast to Eunbi's sleek, toned frame. But it was the sight of her fingers moving in and out of her wet pussy that had you on the edge, your cock throbbing in response. You turned your attention back to Eunbi, her eyes glazed over with lust as she watched Karina. "Again," Karina urged, her breath coming in short gasps as she worked herself closer to another orgasm.

With a snarl, you complied, slamming into Eunbi's pussy with a force that had her moaning in pleasure-pain. Her body bounced with each impact, her tits jiggling in a mesmerizing display of sensuality. You could feel her muscles clench around you, her desperate need for release mirrored in every tightening of her core.

Karina's voice was a siren's call, guiding you deeper into the abyss of lust. You reached up and took Eunbi's right breast in your hand, feeling the weight of it, the firmness of her nipple against your palm. With a grin, you squeezed, watching as her eyes shot wide, her mouth forming a silent 'o' of surprise and delight. She gasped, her breath hitching, her pussy tightening around your cock as you began to knead her flesh, rolling her nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

Her eyes never left yours as you did as Karina asked, her own hand still moving rhythmically between her legs. "Yes," she whispered, "just like that." It was as if she were directing the scene, orchestrating every move, every sensation. And you were more than happy to comply, to give her what she wanted, to be the instrument of her desires.

Eunbi's howl of pleasure was like a siren's call, echoing through the room and setting your blood on fire. Her body arched off the bed, her back bowing as she pushed her breasts into your face. You took one of her nipples into your mouth, feeling it harden against your tongue, tasting the sweetness of her skin.

Her grip on your head was like a vice, her nails digging into your scalp as she held you in place. You felt the weight of her breasts pressing down on you, the soft mounds smothering your face as you suckled greedily. Her skin was like silk, her nipples stiff and sensitive against your teeth as you bit down gently, eliciting another guttural moan from deep within her.

Eunbi's hips began to buck in time with your sucking, her pussy tightening around your cock. You could feel her orgasm building, the muscles of her cunt rippling and contracting with each suckle and bite. Her breath grew ragged, her body tense with anticipation as she approached the peak of pleasure.

I'm going to cum," you grunted, the words muffled against the softness of her breasts. The pressure was unbearable, the feeling of her walls closing in around you like nothing you'd ever experienced. She was so wet, so tight, and you could feel your own orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of desire that you couldn't hold back much longer.

"Do it," Karina urged, her voice a sultry whisper. "Breed Eunbi unnie with your hot seed." Her words sent a shiver down your spine, the idea of filling Eunbi with your cum while your wife watched a thrilling and taboo concept that had your balls tightening, your cock pulsing with the need to release.

You complied, your hips moving faster, your cock sliding in and out of Eunbi's tight, wet pussy. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, until you could feel the warmth of her orgasm building around you, her muscles clenching and releasing in a rhythmic dance of pleasure. And then, it was as if you had reached the precipice, the moment of no return.

With a roar that was part pleasure, part primal need, you felt your balls tighten and release, sending a torrent of hot, thick cum deep into Eunbi. She bucked against you, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt the heat of your seed fill her up. The sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before, a powerful claiming that left you feeling both exhausted and exhilarated.

Her eyes never left yours as she sucked, her own desire evident in every movement of her tongue. "Was it good?" she asked, her voice a sultry purr. You could only nod, too spent to speak, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless.

Her hand trailed down to her own pussy, her fingers slipping through the mess you had made, collecting your cum and mixing it with her own juices. She brought them to her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours as she licked them clean, a smug smile playing on her lips. "It tastes like victory," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper that seemed to resonate in your very bones.

You watched, entranced, as she moved towards Karina, her movements fluid and sensual. She straddled your wife's face, her swollen pussy hovering just above Karina's open mouth. "You can taste your husband's semen," she said, her voice filled with a smug satisfaction that had your cock twitching with renewed interest.

Karina's eyes gleamed with excitement, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She opened her mouth wide, and with a smug grin, Eunbi lowered herself, your cum-soaked cock sliding along her friend's cheek before coming to rest between her open lips. The sight was indescribable, a visual feast that had your heart racing and your blood pulsing.

With a knowing smile, Karina opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to catch the first drops that spilled from Eunbi's pussy. You couldn't believe what was happening, the sight of your wife eagerly lapping up the proof of your infidelity turning you on beyond measure. The tang of your cum mixed with Eunbi's juices was potent, a heady aroma that filled the room, a testament to the intensity of the moment.

Karina's eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and desire as she tasted you on her friend's sex, a silent nod of approval passing between the two women. It was as if they were sharing a secret, a delicious morsel that only they could understand. Each drop that fell from Eunbi's pussy was like a gift, a sweet offering to the goddess of lust that was your wife.

"How does my cum taste, Karina?" Eunbi asked, a playful lilt to her voice. She looked down at your wife, whose mouth and chin were smeared with the evidence of her pleasure. Karina pulled away, a strand of saliva connecting her mouth to Eunbi's pussy, and looked up at you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Wonderfully," she murmured, licking her lips clean. "I didn't expect it to be this delicious."

The room was thick with the scent of sex, a potent mix of sweat and arousal that seemed to coat everything. Your heart was still racing, your body humming with the aftermath of your climax. But as you watched Karina, you felt a new surge of desire, a hunger that hadn't been sated by the incredible experience of taking Eunbi. It was as if the floodgates had been opened, and there was no going back to the life you had before.

This was your reality now, a world where your pregnant wife not only allowed but encouraged you to indulge in your darkest desires. You had just fucked another woman, her best friend no less, and she was not only okay with it, she had orchestrated it. It was a heady feeling, one that made your blood rush and your cock stir again, already eager for more.

The next two months passed in a blur of passion and pleasure, a time when the boundaries of your marriage stretched and reformed into something new and exciting. Karina watched, sometimes joining, as you explored Eunbi's body in every possible way. Her swollen belly was a constant reminder of the life growing inside her, making the act of sharing her even more thrilling.

Eunbi had taken to wearing nothing but a tiny bikini inside the house, her voluptuous curves and barely contained breasts a constant temptation. You found yourself ogling her more often than not, and she reveled in the attention, often flaunting herself just to drive you wild. Karina didn't seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to get off on the idea, her own arousal spiking as she watched the two of you together.

One hot afternoon, you walked into the kitchen to find Eunbi leaning over the counter, her bikini bottoms riding up, giving you a perfect view of her plump, round ass. You couldn't help but let out a low whistle, your eyes feasting on the crevice of her cheeks, the way the fabric was stretched taut against her flesh. She glanced over her shoulder, her smile wicked as she wiggled her hips. "Like what you see, baby?"

Her ass was a thing of beauty, round and firm, begging to be grabbed. You didn't need another invitation. You stepped closer and palmed her cheeks, squeezing and kneading the flesh before you, feeling her heat radiate into your hand. With a growl, you positioned yourself behind her, your cock nudging against her wet pussy. She was already soaking, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.

With one hand on her hip, you guided yourself into her, feeling the tightness of her cunt grip you like a velvet fist. You slammed into her, your hips moving with a fierce rhythm that had her moaning and her ass cheeks jiggling with each impact. The kitchen counter was cold against your chest as you held her in place, your other hand reaching around to tease her clit.

Eunbi's eyes rolled back in her head, her moans growing louder as you fucked her mercilessly. She was so wet, so eager, her body a testament to the desire that had been building between the three of you for weeks. You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm, the pressure building in your balls, the fire in your veins demanding release.

With a final, desperate slap to her ass, you gave into the need, your cock pulsing as ropes of hot cum shot into her waiting pussy. She screamed your name, her body shuddering as she came, her walls clamping down on you like a vise. You held her tight, feeling her spasms milking you dry, your cum filling her up until it began to spill out onto the kitchen floor.

The sound of your breathing and Eunbi's moans filled the room, your heart pounding in your chest. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion, a scene that would have been unthinkable just a few months ago. But here you were, fucking your wife's best friend, her swollen belly a silent witness to the new dynamic of your relationship.

Later, the three of you sat down for dinner, the scent of the meal mingling with the faint musk of sex still lingering in the air. Karina looked at you with a knowing smirk, her hand resting gently on her rounded belly.

As you took a sip of water, Eunbi leaned in and whispered something into Karina's ear. You couldn't quite make out the words, but the way your wife's eyes lit up told you it was something naughty. You felt a twitch in your cock, already anticipating the next act in this thrilling play of lust.

Suddenly, the two of them dropped to the floor, their faces disappearing beneath the table. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt Eunbi's warm breath against your crotch, her nimble fingers expertly unzipping your pants. You looked down, seeing Karina's hand guide yours to her bulging belly, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

The sound of their tongues working in unison was like a symphony, each stroke and flick sending bolts of pleasure shooting through you. They both licked your cock, their tongues dancing around the shaft, swirling around the head. It was wet, sloppy, and oh-so-erotic. The sight of your wife's round belly contrasting with Eunbi's bare, flat stomach was a visual feast, adding to the thrill of the moment.

Karina's hand found its way into your boxers, gently stroking your balls, her nails lightly scraping the sensitive skin. Eunbi's eyes met yours, her own desire reflected in the depths of her gaze. She took the head of your cock into her mouth, her tongue flicking the sensitive spot just under the ridge. You gasped, your hips bucking upwards involuntarily. Karina chuckled, her breath warm against your thigh. "Let us take care of you," she murmured, her voice a siren's call that had your cock swelling even more.

Together, their mouths moved in perfect harmony, licking and sucking, their saliva mixing with your precum to create a slick, slippery mess. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the tension in your body building with each wet sound of their lips smacking against your skin. You reached down, your fingers tangling in their hair, guiding their movements, setting the pace for your own release.

Their eyes met over your cock, a silent challenge in their gaze. You knew what was coming, the culmination of this illicit act played out right here at the dinner table. The thought of it was so wrong, so taboo, that it only served to make it even hotter. You felt the pressure in your balls, the tightness in your shaft, the inevitable climax that was barreling down on you like a freight train.

Eunbi took the lead, her mouth sliding down, taking you deep into her throat, her eyes watering as she choked slightly. Karina watched, her own mouth watering, her hand still massaging your balls. The sight of her best friend, her face contorted in ecstasy as she tried to swallow you whole, was too much to handle. You could feel the warmth of their breath against your skin, the softness of their tongues as they danced together, sharing your length.

Karina's hand grew bolder, her fingers gently stroking along the base of your cock as Eunbi sucked. You could feel the tension building, the pressure threatening to spill over. With a roar, you pulled back, your cock glistening with their combined saliva. You watched as they both looked up at you, their eyes shining with a mix of lust and excitement. They knew what was coming, and they were eager for it.

With a trembling hand, you aimed your cock at Eunbi's face, the first rope of cum shooting out and hitting her square in the forehead. She squealed with glee, her eyes closing as you painted her features with your seed. It was a moment of pure carnality, a visual representation of your dominance in this newfound ménage à trois. Karina leaned in, her tongue darting out to catch the next spurt, her eyes never leaving yours.

Their shared hunger for your cum was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, a thrilling mix of love and lust that had you panting and shaking. Each spurt was met with eager tongues and open mouths, both women eager to taste the fruits of your labor. They lapped and sucked at the head of your cock, not wanting a single drop to go to waste, their faces a mess of your semen and saliva.

For the next two months, the three of you embarked on a sexual odyssey that transformed every room in the house into a playground of pleasure. The bathroom mirrors steamed with the heat of your passion, the living room couch cradled your tangled bodies, and the kitchen counter became a stage for Eunbi's acrobatic skills.

In the dining room, Karina would watch with rapt attention as you feasted on Eunbi's pussy, her eyes following every movement of your tongue as you brought her to the brink of ecstasy. The sight of your wife's swollen belly, a stark contrast to Eunbi's lithe frame, only served to heighten the thrill of the act. It was a dance of desire that grew more intricate with each passing day, each space in the house holding a secret memory of your shared passion.

As the weeks rolled by, the baby grew within Karina, and so did the intensity of your sessions with Eunbi. In the living room, you'd find yourself buried between her thick thighs, her moans muffled by the plush cushions as she rode you to climax after climax. The creaks of the old couch became the soundtrack to your illicit love affair, echoing through the quiet house as you claimed her over and over again.

But all good things must come to an end. The day Karina went into labor was a blur of excitement and anticipation. You and Eunbi waited outside the delivery room, holding onto each other for support as the doctor's and nurses' footsteps grew more urgent. The air was thick with tension, a stark contrast to the passionate embraces you'd shared just hours before.

Finally, the day came when Eunbi packed her bags, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and satisfaction. She had been a vital part of your life during these transformative months, a catalyst for the new dynamics that had formed within your marriage. As she leaned in to kiss Karina goodbye, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loss, the reality of her departure sinking in.

The day had been long and tiring, filled with the usual office politics and mind-numbing paperwork. All you wanted was to come home to a quiet evening with Karina and the baby, to escape the mundane and lose yourself in the warm embrace of your family. But as you turned the key in the lock, the unmistakable sounds of passion reached your ears, and your heart skipped a beat.

You paused in the doorway, the sweet, musky scent of sex heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the usual scent of baby powder and cooked meals. Your mind raced, a cocktail of hope and fear mixing within you. You hoped it was just a particularly intense episode of her favorite TV show, but deep down, you knew it was something more. The moan that echoed through the hallway was unmistakable, a sound you had heard countless times before, but never in this context.

You tiptoed down the corridor, the floorboards creaking under the weight of your apprehension. With trembling hands, you pushed open the door to your bedroom, the sight before you freezing your blood in your veins. There they were, Eunbi and Karina, your wife and her best friend, their naked bodies tangled in a sixty-nine position that was as erotic as it was shocking.

Karina looked up, her eyes meeting yours, and the smile that spread across her face was one you hadn't seen in months—sultry and knowing, the smile of a woman who had just been thoroughly pleasured. "You're home, honey," she purred, her voice thick with lust. Eunbi's head lifted, her eyes glazed with arousal as she took in the sight of you standing there, your erection tenting your pants.

"Eunbi was transferred to work in this area," Karina said, her voice casual despite the erotic scene she was nestled in, "and instead of her renting a place, I thought it would be better if she just moved in with us. It's more convenient, and we can all help each other out." Her hand idly stroked Eunbi's hair, the other playing with her own nipple. The room was a tableau of unbridled desire, the air thick with the scent of arousal.

Eunbi looked at you with a glint in her eye, licking her lips, "And I've got plenty to offer for rent," she said, her hand sliding down to cup her own pussy, her fingers slipping inside, glistening with wetness. "Besides, I've always wanted to see how this bed felt with three people."

Karina giggled, her hand moving to caress Eunbi's ass. "You know you're always welcome, Eunbi." She looked up at you, her eyes filled with mischief. "As long as you don't mind sharing."

You swallowed hard, your cock pulsing at the thought of what was to come. The last year had been a rollercoaster of emotions and experiences, but seeing them together again was like coming home to a warm, welcoming embrace. You nodded, unable to form coherent words. "It's okay as long as you can pay the rent," you repeated, your voice thick with desire.

Eunbi's eyes lit up at your words, and she slid off the bed, her body moving like liquid sin as she approached you. "Oh, I'll make sure to pay my rent on time," she whispered, her hand reaching for your cock, giving it a gentle squeeze that had you hissing in pleasure. Karina watched with a knowing smile, her own hand slipping down to caress her already wet pussy, her eyes never leaving yours.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting shadows that danced across their skin. You couldn't believe this was happening again, that the woman you had once feared losing to another was now welcoming that same woman into your marital bed. The night unfolded before you like a deliciously wicked dream, each moment more erotic than the last.

The end.

[iskandersmuts]

The night I got drunk

Wendy x Reader

Note: soooo this plot was based on something @octoberautumnbox randomly showed us in our group chat....and I promptly stole it. Thanks box.

Also two ASND artists back to back huh. (I'm still shock btw). Ah right, moody to fluff.

It wasn’t love at first sight. Not really.

When you first met Wendy, she was just “the girl who always brought her own tea bags to the café on campus.” You thought she was a bit odd. Cute, but odd. She’d flash this polite smile to the barista, always overly apologetic about asking for hot water like she was committing a crime. You sat two tables over, pretending not to watch every time she pulled out some mysterious floral blend like she was prepping for a tea ceremony instead of finals.

You didn’t talk much back then. Just exchanged awkward nods. The occasional, “Hey, can I borrow your charger?” sort of thing. But then you were grouped together for a class project, and somehow, she just… fit.

Wendy was smart — like scary smart. But not in an annoying, I-know-everything way. She explained things with patience, laughed off your dumb jokes, and had this quiet intensity that made you want to do better. She was thoughtful. Listened without interrupting. Caught details no one else did — like how you only ever brought lunch if it was Thursday (because you had a break long enough to cook the night before). Or how you always zoned out during presentations (because you hated public speaking and she started nudging you before your turn like clockwork).

Then there were the small things. The tiny, insignificant moments that stuck with you anyway.

Like the time you were stressing over an exam, and she just dropped a chocolate bar on your desk without a word, then went back to her seat. Or how she always remembered how you liked your coffee — milk, no sugar — and ordered it for you without asking whenever it was “her turn.” Or how she’d hold the elevator door even if you were halfway down the hall, waving frantically for you to hurry up while wearing that same annoyed smile she always had when you were running late.

It was easy being around her. Too easy.

You’d text her about the dumbest things just to hear her reaction. “This squirrel outside looks like it pays taxes.” Or “Why do our lecture halls smell like old soup?” And she always replied with something equally dumb or sharp or sweet.

You got addicted to it. To her. Her energy, her presence, her stupid tea.

She started coming over more. At first, it was just study sessions. Then lazy lunches. Then spontaneous movie nights. Then sleepovers after those movie nights because she didn’t feel like walking back. It all blurred together so seamlessly that you didn’t even notice how your place started feeling empty without her.

And then there was the night she came over during a thunderstorm, completely drenched, shivering, mascara smudged. You threw her a towel and made her sit under a blanket with you while she vented about her break up. At some point she fell asleep on your shoulder — soft, warm, her breath steady — and you just sat there frozen, staring at the crown of her head like a complete idiot.

That was the night you realized your heart had already made a decision.

It wasn’t a question anymore. You were in love with your best friend.

Not the fireworks-and-sappy-music kind. No. It was quieter than that. Slower. It grew in between shared glances and missed chances. In the way she’d flick your forehead when you were being dramatic, or how she always leaned a little closer when she was showing you something on her phone. In the way your name sounded when she said it.

Familiar. Easy. Like she’d always known it.

And the worst part?

You didn’t even know when it started. Just that you were too far gone to stop it now.

You’d spend nights lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she knew. If she ever looked at you and felt that same twist in her chest. If maybe — just maybe — she noticed how you smiled a little softer around her. Laughed a little harder. Or if she just thought this was how best friends were supposed to be.

You told yourself it was fine. That you could handle it. That as long as she was around, even as just a friend, it was enough.

But deep down, you knew that was a lie waiting to crack.

And it did on the night you got drunk.

Like... embarrassingly drunk. The kind of drunk where your mouth stopped listening to your brain and started going rogue.

The two of you had planned a sleepover that night — something casual, like the old days. Snacks, laughter, and the newest episode of that trashy k-drama you both hated but secretly loved. It was all normal until you tilted your head back, blurt the words out like they weighed nothing.

“I love you.”

Wendy froze in the middle of pulling her hair into a messy bun. Her hands dropped slowly, and she looked at you — really looked at you. Not like a best friend. Not like a study partner. Just... like someone who wasn’t sure if they should laugh or reach out.

You laughed first. Of course you did. A stupid, wobbly little laugh trying to smooth over the landmine you just stepped on.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you added quickly, waving your hand in the air like that would erase it. “I just thought—I dunno. You should know.”

It just… slipped. You convinced herself.

Three words. A soft confession disguised as a hiccup, carried by the warmth in your chest and the dizziness in your head. You didn’t even look at her right away — you just stared at the floor, heart thudding so loud it might’ve knocked over your IKEA lamp.

Silence.

Then, “...Yah,” she said, in that soft, sing-songy tone Wendy used when she was being gentle with you. Her voice always had this warmth to it, like the first sip of soup after coming in from the cold. But now, it just felt like the warmth before the burn. “You know I love you too, right?”

You looked up, eyes hopeful — for a second, maybe she meant it the same way.

She tilted her head, smile tucked behind a quiet sigh. “But not like that.”

Ah. There it was.

Gentle. Careful. Like she was placing the truth down without breaking anything. But it still hit like a brick to the ribs.

You nod, quick. Too quick. Like you had a contingency plan for this. Like you weren’t seconds away from mentally scheduling your funeral. “Right, yeah. I figured. It’s cool. Just had to get it out, you know?”

You don’t even give her time to reply before you’re already standing, scratching the back of your neck like you could scrub the moment away. “Want me to walk you home? It's late and—"

She frowned. “What? No.”

You paused.

“I mean, it’s fine. Really,” you said quickly, still fumbling for your shoes. “It’s late, and I figured you’d—”

She cut you off, walking right past you like the whole thing hadn’t just happened. “The sleepover’s still on,” she said casually, plopping onto the couch like she hadn’t just turned your heart into a smudge on the pavement.

You blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. You promised we’d watch the new episode of this shitshow. And you better not pass out halfway through again.”

You stared. She reached over and tossed you a bag of popcorn.

“Come on,” she added, shooting you a look that was both amused and devastating. “I didn’t come all the way here for you to confess and then run away. Sit down. Drama’s about to start.”

And just like that, she was tucking herself under the blanket, all cozy and warm, like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t just turned you down. Like you hadn’t just completely exposed your heart in the messiest, dumbest way possible.

This girl — this beautiful, maddening, soft-voiced hurricane of a girl — just rejected your love confession and then had the audacity to demand K-drama time like you hadn’t just imploded inside.

You sat down beside her. Too aware of the small distance between your shoulders. Too aware of her hand reaching into the popcorn bag. Too aware that she still smelled like lavender and mint gum.

Somewhere in the background, the k-drama’s theme song started playing.

And all you could think was:

You were still in love with your best friend. And she was still here. Watching the stupid drama. Stealing your blanket. Breaking your heart without even knowing it.

You smiled anyway.

Because you were in love with your best friend.

And she was too busy fighting over a blanket to notice the way you were falling apart.

-

The room was dim now, lit only by the flickering light of the TV and the low hum of your desk lamp, still clinging to life after three years of pulling all-nighters with you. The air smelled faintly of instant noodles and the cinnamon candle Wendy lit earlier, claiming your room always smelled too much like “lonely boy energy.”

The episode was almost over.

And you were almost out.

You blinked once. Twice. Long, heavy blinks that started blending scenes together. You vaguely registered the second male lead showing up at the airport with an apology bouquet, and then the screen blurred into a mess of motion and muffled dialogue.

Wendy nudged you with her knee. “Yah. Don’t fall asleep. You promised.”

You mumbled something into the throw pillow — possibly English, possibly gibberish. You weren’t sure. “I’m awake…”

“You said that five minutes ago and then called the second lead ‘Mr. Flowerpants.’”

You cracked open an eye. Her face hovered just above you — lips curled into that soft, half-mocking smile she always gave you when you did something stupid but harmless. Her bangs were a little messy, falling over her eyes from when she’d curled up under the blanket, and the collar of her oversized hoodie was stretched from how she’d been fidgeting with it all night.

“You’re cute when you’re delusional,” she added.

You blinked again. “You’re cute when you… call me delusional.”

Her laugh was quiet, a breath through her nose, and she shook her head as you slumped sideways, half-melted against the couch cushions.

You don’t even remember how it happened, but at some point your head found her lap. Her thighs were warm — maybe too warm — and her legs tensed beneath you, just a little.

You waited for her to tell you to move.

But she didn’t.

“You really gonna let me lie here like this?” you asked, your voice slurred but honest.

Wendy’s fingers hovered uncertainly in the air, then slowly lowered. She started brushing strands of your hair out of your face like she’d done it a hundred times before. “You confessed your love to me and now you're passed out on my lap like a cat. Do you want me to throw you out instead?”

You let out a sleepy chuckle. “It’s my place…..but that actually might be fair.”

There was a pause.

You could feel her still playing with your hair, absent-mindedly twisting a strand and letting it go, again and again. You weren’t sure if she was doing it to comfort you or herself.

Then her voice dropped — soft, but sharper than before.

“…Did you mean it?”

You cracked an eye open again. Her face was turned toward the TV, but she wasn’t watching it anymore.

“Yeah,” you said simply. No point lying. Not when your heart was already on the floor, somewhere between the empty snack bowl and your dignity. “I meant it.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Just kept tracing her fingers along your temple. You waited, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer might be carved into the plaster.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” she said, quietly.

You turned your head slightly, resting your cheek against her leg. “Yeah, well. I was doing a great job pretending I didn’t.”

Her fingers stilled.

“I don’t want to lose you.” she whispered.

You smiled bitterly. “Even after I dropped the emotional nuke?”

Wendy looked down at you then. Really looked. Her eyes searched yours like she was trying to solve something in real time — something messy and tangled and just a little terrifying.

“No,” she murmured. “Even when you did.”

Your breath hitched, just a bit.

But before you could say anything else, the episode ended. The dramatic OST played. Credits rolled.

Wendy leaned back, shifting slightly to reach for the remote, but her hand paused in mid-air. She hesitated, then looked down at you again.

“Do you think,” she asked slowly, “if things were… different… we could’ve worked?”

You stared up at her, trying to ignore the way her voice cracked just a little at the end.

“Maybe,” you whispered. “But I don’t think I ever had a version of life where I didn’t fall for you.”

That broke something in her eyes. “Don’t say things like that when you’re drunk.”

“I’m drunk…not lying.”

Another pause.

Then, almost inaudibly, she said, “Okay.”

You furrowed your brows. “Okay what?”

She looked away, eyes fixed on the darkened TV screen again. “Okay… you can stay.”

You blinked. “I was already staying. It’s my place, remember?”

“I know,” she muttered. “Just making it official.”

And just like that, she tucked the blanket around both of you. Her fingers returned to your hair. And though nothing was fixed, and nothing was certain, and your heart still ached in places you didn’t know existed.

You fell asleep in the lap of the girl who broke your heart… while she tried to memorize every piece of you she was suddenly too scared to lose.

-

A few days passed.

The world didn’t end. The sky didn’t fall. But something definitely cracked under the surface.

Wendy had been… different. Not distant, not cold — just weird. Awkward in a way she never was with you. Fidgety, flustered, hyper-aware of every brush of skin between you like it was scripted in a romance drama and not just a normal Tuesday afternoon in your shared favourite café.

It was the little things at first.

You reached over her to grab a napkin — she jolted like you threw a live wire at her.

Your hands accidentally touched while trying to plug in your charger — she muttered something in English under her breath and pretended to cough.

And the kicker? You passed her a bite of your kimbap like you always did, and she stared at the chopsticks like they were dipped in poison.

You blinked. “Seungwan. It’s just rice.”

“I know that,” she replied, voice an octave too high, “I just— you always put too much sesame oil, and— and I have lip balm on.”

You raised a brow. “You literally ate it off the floor once.”

“That was different! We were drunk and it didn’t touch the floor that long.”

You didn’t call her out on the fact that she was the one who made the kimbap. You just passed her the piece again with a flat look.

She took it. Reluctantly. Chewed like it betrayed her entire bloodline.

So yeah. Something had changed.

And you? You dealt with it the only way you knew how: weaponized snacks.

So you showed up to her place with a convenience store bag packed with emotional damage control in the form of snacks. You didn’t even knock properly — just kicked the door with your foot until she opened it, hair damp and tied in a lazy bun, wearing that oversized blue sweater she always stole from your side of the closet.

Her face was bare, flushed slightly from the shower, and she looked at you with wide eyes like you’d just caught her hiding a secret.

“Um,” she blinked. “Hey? What is this?”

“Your favourites,” you said. “Pepero, Chilsung cider, that weird triangle kimbap with the tuna-mayo fusion. I even threw in those gummy bears you pretend not to like. Peace offering.”

She stared. “Why? Are we fighting?"

“No,” You shrugged, stepping in. “But you’ve been weird and twitchy and blushing every time our arms brush, so I’m bribing you into being normal again.”

“I haven’t been blushing.”

You turned to her slowly. “You turned red yesterday when I asked if you wanted to use my charger.”

“I— that’s because your cable’s frayed and I didn’t want to get electrocuted!”

“Uh-huh. So the pink ears were… what? A side effect?”

She opened her mouth, then promptly shut it.

You watched her try to save face while fiddling with the bag, pulling out a box of Pepero and avoiding eye contact like it was some Olympic event. You leaned back on her chair, arms folded.

She sniffed one of the snacks. “This isn’t the almond kind.”

You smiled, slowly. “And yet, you’re still taking it.”

She rolled her eyes and peeled open the box anyway, expression unreadable.

Wendy was hard to pin down when she didn’t want to be read. Her face was expressive, sure — her eyes always sparkled when she laughed, and her nose scrunched whenever she focused — but when she wanted to retreat, she was a fortress.

And right now, she was locking the gates.

Wendy looked down at the snacks again. She picked up the triangle kimbap and turned it in her hands.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, a little softer.

“I know,” you replied, looking over at her. “But you looked like you were going to combust if I offered to share another blanket.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just peeled open the wrapper, letting the familiar scent hit the air. Her shoulders relaxed slightly.

You softened your tone. “I’m not trying to make things weird. I know I kind of dropped a bomb the other night, but—”

“You didn’t.”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Wendy sat down slowly on her bed, cross-legged, snacks in her lap. Her fingers picked absently at the corner of the Pepero box as she finished the kimbap. Her eyes, however, stared at the floor between you.

“You didn’t drop a bomb,” she said again, quieter. “You told me how you felt. That’s not… a bad thing.”

You stepped closer. “Then why are you treating me like I’m radioactive?”

Wendy exhaled. Her shoulders slumped the way they did when she was holding tension for too long. Like she was finally letting herself be vulnerable in front of you again — not the smiley, jokey version she gave everyone else, but the real one. The one who hated disappointing people. The one who overthought everything, especially when it involved someone she cared about.

“It’s not you,” she said. “It’s just—every time I look at you now, I wonder if I’ve been missing something.”

Your heart skipped.

Wendy’s fingers finally stilled. She looked up at you, brows furrowed slightly, teeth tugging at her bottom lip — the way she always did when her thoughts got stuck in a loop.

“I keep replaying things,” she continued, “like… the time you gave me your jacket at that stupid concert. Or when you stayed up with me during finals, even though you had a morning class. Or when you told me to stop dating that guy who made me cry.”

“Because he sucked,” you muttered.

She smiled faintly. “Yeah. He did.”

Silence.

“I didn’t think it’d matter,” she muttered. “The way you felt. I figured it was a passing thing, or you’d pretend it never happened. But now… every time you look at me, it feels different.”

Your chest tightened. Juggling whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“And that scares you?” you asked, gently.

She finally looked at you — cheeks pink, but her gaze steady now. “No. It scares me that it doesn’t.”

The silence that followed was thick. Not uncomfortable — just heavy. Full of the things neither of you had figured out how to say yet.

You leaned back, lips quirking upward. “So, what I’m hearing is… I should buy you food more often.”

That earned you a laugh — soft and reluctant, but real. Her head dropped against your shoulder, the way it used to before you confessed, when things were easier and ignorance was bliss. “Bribery doesn’t solve everything.”

You grinned. “Doesn’t hurt though.”

She reached towards the Pepero on the table. “Next time, get the almond kind. And maybe a choco pie.”

You laughed, the tension breaking like glass under your heel.

Wendy smiled back, smaller but real. “You’re still an idiot.”

You leaned your head on your hand. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

She looked at you for a long moment, then turned back to her snack with a shake of her head — but her ears were still pink.

And she didn’t pull away when your knees touched hers.