kissmewakemeup

[kissmewakemeup]

Yesterday when I was higher than a kite, and it was Titty Tuesday

[kissmewakemeup]

[kissmewakemeup]

You Write Better When You Improvise

seol yoon-ah x male reader

college au, build up, fluff (?), smut

8k words

Orientation is loud.

That's the first thought that comes into your head as you step into the auditorium, shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of strangers, all pretending they aren't just as lost as you are.

There's music being blasted from cheap speakers and the occasional whistle of a mic being tested by an emcee trying too hard to impress. The chatters of hundreds of people reverberate and ring throughout the auditorium like a rising tide, layered over the sound of shuffling feet and plastic chairs scraping against the floor.

Someone beside you is already scribbling notes in a welcome booklet like it's a test paper. You step sideways, trying not to elbow anyone, scanning rows of identical tote bags and unfamiliar heads.

In a sea of faces, you're finding it hard to spot her. She said she'd meet you here. "Auditorium B," she texted casually, like it wasn't your first day on a campus you didn't recognise, surrounded by people two years younger but somehow already ahead.

Your phone buzzes again.

jiwoo: i lied. i’m late. again. u love me anyway also they gave us these ugly tote bags lol you: 😐

You sighed. She hadn't changed in the 18 months you were gone. Still the same old chronic texter, serial latecomer, and one of the only people who actually kept in touch while you were halfway across the country doing push-ups at the crack of dawn.

Unlike every other guy your age, you decided to enlist right after graduating high school in hopes that you would be able to complete uni life without any military service disruptions.

You ended up with exactly that — 18 months of routine, of shaved heads and strict orders, of standing at attention while your friends posted party photos from their freshman dorms.

You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. The AC's doing nothing against the mix of perfumes and colognes, sweat, and nerves lingering in the auditorium. You loosen the strap of your sling bag and take another quick glance around, still no sign of her.

You're debating whether to leave and pretend you never came when a voice calls out — familiar, exasperating.

"God, you're tall. Why'd I forget that?"

You turn just in time to catch Jiwoo elbowing through a pair of freshmen with a grin that says she's not even sorry, tote bag already crumpled like she wrestled it. Her hair's lighter compared to the last time you saw her, dyed in a way that catches the fluorescent lights.

She looks every inch the experienced university sophomore she is — smug, seasoned, and thirty minutes late. You stand almost a whole foot taller than her, albeit not a difficult feat with her petite stature. It's good to see her after only looking at unfamiliar faces all morning, and after seeing none that felt like home.

Jiwoo looks up at you, squinting like she's doing mental math. "Wait," she says, deadpan." You didn't grow again, right? Please tell me the military didn't feed you Miracle-Gro."

You let out a hearty chuckle, the kind that hadn't escaped your throat in a long time. The thing with Jiwoo is that she always knew how to make you laugh. "Nah, just protein shakes and existential dread."

She grins, walking the last few steps and throwing an arm casually around your waist (she's not tall enough for your shoulders). "Welcome to hell, by the way. Civilian edition. I expect full obedience, hoobae."

You groan as you fall into step beside her. "I'm still older than you, y'know."

"I'm a sophomore and you're a freshman. In my books, that makes me the senior here," she shoots back, sticking her tongue out. "And you're gonna be lost for at least a week, so you'd better follow my lead."

Her relentless teasing comes pouring down, just like it did back in high school. It's like she was never gone, and for a second, it almost feels like time never moved at all since graduation.

You both fall into an easy rhythm, dodging slow-walking freshmen and the occasional overenthusiastic orientation group trying to start a cheer. Jiwoo gives half-hearted finger guns at some juniors who clearly recognise her, and you can already tell she's one of those campus names — not quite all-campus famous, but definitely not quite forgettable either.

"You nervous?" she asks after a beat.

You shrug. "Not really. Kind of surreal, though. Like I blinked and skipped a year of life."

"You did," she says. "You skipped the awkward hookups, all-nighters, bad haircuts, and falling asleep in lectures." She stops and ponders for a second, "Actually, in all honesty, you basically missed nothing."

"Except," you say, "you got to be my senior."

Her eyes twinkle mischievously. "And I've been waiting for this payback for a long time. Me, the junior, once bullied by you, now equipped with the same power."

"Bullied? I never bullied you."

"You always took the last banana milk at the convenience store and walked away without looking back."

"That's called being efficient."

"You're evil."

Before you can respond, Jiwoo's gaze catches someone near the auditorium doors.

"Oh! Yoon-Ah!"

You follow her gaze and see a girl leaning lightly against the wall next to the doors, scrolling through her phone. She looks up and waves back when Jiwoo calls, and your breath stutters for half a second.

She's beautiful. Ethereal, even, in the kind of quiet way that makes you stare without meaning to. Clean lines, soft features that remind you of a deer, and an air of calm that contrasts so sharply with the noise of the auditorium. Her eyes land on you with gentle curiosity, and suddenly, you're very aware of how wrinkled your shirt is.

"She's my roommate," Jiwoo says as the girl approaches. "Be nice or I'll tell her all your high school secrets."

You nod, straightening instinctively before frowning at her words. "I was always nice."

"Hi," the girl says with a smile that's both polite and a little amused. "I'm Sullyoon."

You nod again, maybe too quickly. "Hey. I'm—uh. Jiwoo's friend."

Jiwoo snorts. "He's fresh out of the army, awkward as hell, and apparently he forgot how to talk to pretty girls."

Sullyoon blinks, then covers her mouth as she chuckles — an angelical, infectious laugh where her shoulders shake at the same time, and it’s the kind of sound that makes you want to hear it again.

"Welcome to campus," she says. "Don't worry. We're not all freshmen."

"She's your sunbae now, too," Jiwoo says with a wide grin.

You sigh. "Great. Two of you."

Sullyoon glances at Jiwoo, amused. "He's fun."

"Oh," Jiwoo says, as her trademark mischievous grin spreads across her face. "You have no idea."

And just like that, you're being ushered to sit with them, Sullyoon sliding in beside you, Jiwoo plopping her bag down like it’s her house, and the emcee finally getting the mic to stop screeching.

Voices drone on in the background, but your attention has shifted. You're entranced by the presence of the girl sitting beside you; you'd only just met her, and yet it feels calm and grounding, like a quiet island amid the chaotic sea of orientation noise.

Jiwoo's still rattling off stories about campus life, but you catch Sullyoon's eyes flickering toward you now and then — curious, amused, maybe even a little intrigued.

After a while, Jiwoo nudges you both. "Lunch? My treat. By that I mean I'm starving and have zero self-control around campus food courts and I need my friends to accompany me so I'm bribing you with money."

You glance at Sullyoon, who shrugs with a smile. "I'm in. I need fuel to survive Jiwoo's terrible jokes."

You grin. “That makes two of us.”

Jiwoo gasps dramatically, as if she genuinely offended. "Terrible? I'll have you know people pay good money for this level of comedy."

"Who?" you deadpan.

"Me," she says proudly. "I pay myself in serotonin."

The three of you exit the auditorium, stepping into the bright afternoon sun. Jiwoo leads the way, weaving through clusters of freshmen. You walk beside Sullyoon, the noise fading a little as the two of you fall into an easy rhythm.

"So," she begins, glancing sideways at you, "freshman year, huh? Must be weird starting uni after the army."

You chuckle. "Weird is an understatement. It's like everyone else hit pause on life while I was stuck in fast-forward."

She nods. "I get that. I took a gap year before starting uni. Everyone felt so far ahead. That and, well… almost everyone in my cohort's a year younger, so I always feel slightly off-sync."

You laugh heartily, only the second one today, and the first not caused by Jiwoo. "Mine’s two years younger. So there’s that."

She smiles, eyes crinkling just a bit. "Guess you're not alone, then."

There's a pause, and for a moment, it feels like the world around you has dimmed to just the two of you.

Then Jiwoo's voice breaks in, loud and obnoxious as ever. "Welcome to my favourite bubble tea chain! I need a sip of this every day. Also, I’m really craving fried chicken right now."

You muse at Jiwoo's ability to spoil the moment, comparable to a human sledgehammer — but somehow, the warmth lingers, even after the spell is gone. You glance at Sullyoon next to you, her face equally as amused, and you can’t help but think that things can only go up from here.

The first few weeks feel like a breeze, even as the campus hums with the nervous energy of new beginnings and deadlines. Classes roll by in a whirlwind of lectures, discussions, and late-night readings, but somehow, the chaos feels less overwhelming with familiar presences next to you.

Late nights over at Jiwoo's and Sullyoon's dorm become the norm; more often than not, they end with bottles of soju scattered all over the floor, sometimes even shards of broken glass. With Jiwoo's lightweight nature, there are countless times you find yourself carrying her to bed while Sullyoon quietly cleans up the mess.

Sullyoon rarely joins in the drinking, with her being a lightweight herself, so most of the chaos is courtesy of you doing the heavy lifting.

"Thanks for cleaning up again," you say, slumping onto the couch and rubbing your temples. "I may have gone a little overboard with the drinking this time."

She glances over with a small smile, handing you a glass of water. "You say that every time. Maybe next time, try pacing yourself?"

You grin sheepishly. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Her eyes sparkle with amusement, and the easy silence between you feels warmer than the soju ever could. A warmth you feel unfamiliar with, as if she's unlocking some part of you you didn’t even know was sealed shut — something softer, quieter, untouched by the noise of routine and the years that blurred past you.

You steal a glance at her, watching as she methodically wipes the coffee table clean, hair falling slightly over her face. The lamp in the back illuminates her in a soft halo, highlighting and casting a golden hue across her cheekbones.

Her soft hair drops down in a way that brushes gently against her cheek, framing her features with an effortless elegance — the kind she never seems aware of. She tucks a strand behind her ear absentmindedly, focused on the task at hand, but your eyes linger a little longer than they should.

"You always take care of everything," you murmur.

She pauses, not looking up. "Someone has to. You and Jiwoo are hopeless."

You chuckle, leaning back. "I think I’m starting to depend on you too much."

This time, she looks at you. Not with a smirk or a tease, but something gentler, deeper. "Then I guess it’s a good thing I don't mind."

The silence returns, but something's changed. It feels different now. And you wonder if she feels it too.

Midterms roll around faster than expected as April arrives. The campus library becomes your second home. The hushed whispers and scratches people make on paper add to the ambience that helps you with your concentration on your project. A creative writing project, part of a minor you picked up more out of impulse than foresight.

But the further you go, the more you realise you needed it — the writing, the space to untangle your own thoughts, to turn emotions into something readable.

Yoon-Ah, as you've grown to call her, becomes a constant in your life. Late-night ramyeon cooking and spontaneous movie breaks between study sessions become routine. They're not planned, not discussed, just understood.

general seol: i’m hungry :( buldak or neoguri you: why even ask if you always just choose buldak general seol: you never know when I feel like having something more soupy you: and if on that same day, jiwoo miraculously stops cracking puns, then I’ll know for sure the world is ending general seol: whatever we’re rewatching zootopia this time, you don’t get to choose

It surprises you how easy it is — how seamless her presence fits into your days. There's a rhythm now, a shared playlist of habits and glances. She becomes visibly more comfortable, no longer bothered by unintentional touches and knees bumping on the couch during movie time, or shoulders touching on the way back to the dorm from grocery runs.

Late-night calls become more frequent, almost a necessity before ending the day, sometimes going way deep into the night. There are even a couple of times you fall asleep to each other's breathing and wake up the next day with your phone still warm in your hand.

You start to know more about each other, how she has two younger siblings, how she took Spanish classes in high school and travelled to Madrid during her gap year, and the small things, like how she only wore crop tops in her dorm, how she had a playful side to her usually prim and proper self.

And before you know it, she starts joining you during your library time.

"You always look like you’re about to monologue when you're stuck," she teases one afternoon. She's resting her head on the desk with her hair sprawled out across the wooden table, staring up at you as you focus on your typing.

"That's because I am," you reply, deadpan. "I'm a tortured artist, Yoon-Ah. Respect the process."

She snorts, tossing an eraser at you. "You’re just stalling."

But then she sits up, crosses her legs, and says, "Okay. Tell me what your character wants. Start there."

And just like that, without even realising it, she’s helping you write as well.

One weekend in late May, Jiwoo heads home for a family gathering, suitcase in hand, leaving the two of you alone in the dorm. It's raining, and you end up watching another movie together after a grocery run. Halfway through, you realise you've stopped paying attention.

Yoon-Ah is curled into the corner of the couch, blanket up to her chin, hair slightly damp from the walk back from the supermarket, clinging softly to the sides of her face. The faint scent of rain clings to her, mixed with that subtle floral aroma that’s become oddly comforting to you — like an anchor in the middle of the storm.

The dim light casts gentle shadows across her features, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw and the smooth arch of her eyebrows. Her doe-like eyes, usually filled with mirth and amusement, are half-closed now, heavy with tiredness but still holding that quiet spark that always draws you in.

She yawns and turns to you, whispering something about the cinematography — but you don’t really catch it. You just nod.

Your shoulders are touching, and you hesitate to inch your hands closer to hers.

By the time the credits are about to roll, the blanket falls to the ground as she falls asleep.

You can't help but notice her midriff, exposed to the cold breeze of the AC. Toned and smooth, her fair skin taut over gentle curves. A faint line of delicate muscle traces down toward her waist, hinting at quiet strength beneath the softness.

Your eyes move up to her chest, rising up and down, her cleavage visible as her top was slightly pulled down lower than usual.

You swallow, your heart beating a little faster in the dim light. You look away out of restraint, afraid of what thoughts your brain might conjure up.

Just thinking about her in that way intoxicates you more than any other alcohol. 18 months in the military straight out of high school left you in solitary. Apart from a couple of casual hookups with Jiwoo on certain leave days, you were almost new to and deprived of sex.

And with the fast-paced routine of everyone in university life, it's hard to catch anyone's eye. That, and the fact that everyone in your cohort is 2 years younger, which, to you, is a no-go. You draw the line at 1.

Anyway, you spent all your free time with Jiwoo and Yoon-Ah, so it’s not like you're out there looking for someone. Besides, you had more important studies to focus on.

She suddenly mutters something in her sleep, probably just a sound caught between dreams. You pause, then gently pick the blanket up from the floor, draping it over her again. To keep her warm, yes, but that's not the only reason why — though that's what you try to tell yourself.

As you lean back and your eyes drift to the rain streaking across the windows, you're suddenly pulled back to a night about a month ago.

Jiwoo's birthday. It was right before midterms, a spur-of-the-moment party for her that had an underlying, "we're kinda only throwing this party to relax two days before exams" reason behind it, but Jiwoo didn't seem to mind.

It was originally supposed to be a quiet one, just the three of you, and it was meant to be a surprise, but with Jiwoo's quick wits and her sharp eyes, she pretty much caught on immediately.

Much to both your and Yoon-Ah's dismay, she ended up taking over the planning process and invited everyone she knew. The initially planned small celebration in the dorm (which you now considered to be your main place of stay; most nights you just crash on the couch) became a gigantic roof-top party, with only a handful of people you recognised that you could count on one hand.

Yoon-Ah seemed to be on the same boat as you, looking like a damsel in distress, particularly highlighted by her doe-like features.

"Jiwoo sure is famous on campus, huh." You walked over to her, offering her a drink you filled up from the dispenser with a party cup. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took it, soft and lingering, just a split second too long to be accidental.

She glanced up at you with that same faint smile she always wore when Jiwoo was being Jiwoo — fond, exasperated, and just a little bit tired. Her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, a quiet laugh slipping past her lips. "You're telling me. I thought we agreed on a quiet surprise, not a K-pop fan meet."

You chuckled, shifting your weight beside her against the railing. From here, you could see most of the rooftop crowd. Jiwoo was laughing with someone across the way, lights stringing overhead, music pulsing low and steady in the background.

But somehow, in that moment, the crowd blurred. Your awareness narrowed until it was just you and Yoon-Ah, side by side beneath the soft glow of the fairy lights. She smelled faintly of rose and something warmer, like vanilla, subtle and familiar — the kind of scent that clung to your hoodie after long nights together and lingered longer than you'd ever admit.

It took a couple more cups before you realised the drinks had alcohol in them, the clear indication being Yoon-Ah's flushed face and slurred words.

A clearer indication would be when she started to inch closer to you ever so slightly, before she fully leaned into your shoulder with a soft sigh, and you could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"You're warm," she mumbled, barely audible over the music, her fingers curling loosely around your wrist.

You laughed in response. Partly out of reflex, partly as a defence mechanism. You were entering uncharted physical touch territory, and your body didn't quite know what to do with itself. “You’re drunk.”

She blinked up at you, slow and lazy, her lashes heavy, lips parted in that loose, unguarded way intoxication sometimes brings. "Nooo, I’m — okay, maybe a little," she drawled, letting the words hang in the air like fog.

Then, without moving her head from your shoulder, she tilted it slightly toward you, her breath warm against your neck. "You’ve got that army energy, you know…"

You turned your head just enough to look at her. "What does that even mean?"

Her smile turned playful — slow, slightly crooked, like the alcohol had softened the lines of her usual expressions. "Like… you'd be really good at… building tents. Giving orders. Kinda in a hot way but... emotionally constipated."

You snorted. "Wow. Thanks?"

"I'm just saying," she murmured, almost sing-song now, like every word required a bit more effort than she meant it to. Her fingers, still wrapped around your wrist, moved slightly — a light, dragging touch that lingered too long to be accidental.

There was a pause. Not long enough to be awkward, but long enough for the air to shift. For her to lean in a little closer, enough for her voice to fall into a murmur only you could hear.

"I bet you lost your virginity before enlistment, huh."

Another thing you learned about her: with her inhibitions lowered from alcohol, she really had no filter with her boldness. It was like a complete 180 from her usual self.

You turned, startled, caught between disbelief and secondhand embarrassment. She was watching you through half-lidded eyes, a mischievous flicker in them despite her intoxicated haze.

"…Seriously?"

She gave a one-shouldered shrug, loose and unbothered. "So? Am I wrong?"

You thought for a bit, wondering whether you should answer her, before finally giving in, "You are, actually." You pondered on whether you should reveal the next part to her.

Yoon-Ah caught on to your hesitation immediately, her eyes narrowing — or at least trying to, given how slowly her facial muscles seemed to be cooperating. Her curiosity was piqued now, stirred awake by the alcohol and her usual inability to let things go once she caught a thread of intrigue.

"What aren't you saying?" she prodded, voice slurred but sharp enough to cut. "Come on. Spill."

You hesitated, rubbing the back of your neck. Then, with a resigned sigh, you caved.

"I hooked up with Jiwoo when I was on leave," you admitted, your voice low. "Just last year. She was… the first."

You braced yourself, unsure what reaction you were expecting — discomfort, judgment, maybe even jealousy — but definitely not what came next.

A soft giggle escaped her lips, quickly bubbling into a full-bodied laugh — loud and unrestrained, the loudest you had heard from her in the almost two months of knowing each other, her head tilting back as she clutched at her sides.

It was the most uninhibited sound you'd ever heard from her.

"That makes two of us then," she managed between breaths, then grinning at the look on your face.

You stared at her, blinking once. Then twice.

"…You’re kidding."

She wiped at the corner of her eye, still laughing a little as the remnants of amusement softened into something gentler, more reflective. "Nope."

You tried to wrap your head around it — not just the confession, but how casually she said it, like it wasn't a bombshell. Like she hadn't just completely rearranged your understanding of the two most constant people in your life.

You tilted your head. "When?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight back against the wall as her body swayed slightly, her arm brushing yours again — whether by accident or intention, you couldn't tell. "Sometime during freshman year. It was… kinda messy. But not dramatic. We were both drunk, bored, and frankly a little lonely." She paused, gaze drifting past your shoulder, out into the haze of rooftop lights. "She kissed me first, if you're wondering."

You weren't sure how to respond, as something shifted somewhere in your chest. You weren't sure whether it was feelings of relief or jealousy, or something in between. But instead of overthinking it, you just went with it.

"Makes sense," you said, lips quirking up. "She is a pretty good kisser. I’ll give her that."

She turned to look at you, blinking slowly — then burst into laughter again, though this time it was quieter, more breath than sound. Her hand found your arm, fingers curling loosely around your wrist as if to steady herself.

"You're the worst," she said, but there was no bite to it. Her thumb brushed against your skin, absentminded, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it. And you didn’t move away.

"I mean," she went on, head tilting slightly, her words still a little slurred but more deliberate now, "I always figured there was something between you two. The way you looked at her. The way she teased you." She squinted at you, expression amused. "But I don't swing that way, if you're wondering. It was just for fun." She looked at you, as if hoping for some sort of reaction.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Just for fun, huh? You and Jiwoo have pretty interesting definitions of boredom, then."

She scoffs, nudging your arm with hers. "You're one to talk, Mr 'She was my first.' What, no heartfelt confessions? Candlelight?"

"Please, I don't see her that way, and we both know that. I just needed some stress relief from the army, and Jiwoo needed it too."

It was her turn to look at you with her eyebrow raised, so you indulged further.

"Plus, it was in her car. After bibimbap. Romantic as hell."

That earns another laugh — her hand flying to her mouth too late to stifle it. "God, that's awful."

"It was foggy," you say, mock solemn. "We couldn't see out of the windows, Titanic style."

"You did not just compare Jiwoo's Kia to the Titanic."

You shrug. "It makes sense. I was Jack, she was Rose. The dashboard was the iceberg, how it killed the sex."

She groans, collapsing sideways and almost falling over the railing. "You're the worst person I know." You couldn't help but grin.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there in that shared understanding, the hum of the city below, wrapping around the rooftop like a warm current. Then Yoon-Ah's fingers gave a slight squeeze around your wrist, grounding.

You turned to look at her. The rooftop light hit the edge of her cheekbone, casting soft shadows across her face. You suddenly became aware of how close she was — how her knees were angled just barely toward yours, how her lips were parted like she still had more to say but hadn’t quite figured out the words.

"…Are you drunk-drunk?" you asked, only half-joking.

She smiled — slow, sly, knowing. "Maybe."

Then, after a beat: "But not too drunk to know that I’m glad I stayed behind tonight."

Something in the way she said it made your pulse stutter.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, or if it was just her being unfiltered, unafraid. But for the first time, you let yourself lean into it.

"Me too."

Suddenly, a flash of light interrupts your memory, then a low, rolling crack of thunder tears through the room.

You blink, disoriented for a moment, as the rooftop, the party, and the warmth of Yoon-Ah's laugh dissolve into the here and now.

The thunder jolts you back to the dorm couch. The screen is dark, the movie long finished. The rain has thickened into a steady downpour against the windows, and the occasional rumble of thunder rolls through the air like distant cannon fire.

Yoon-Ah stirs from beside you, her body tensing briefly before relaxing again, blinking up at the ceiling with bleary confusion.

"...What time is it?" she mumbles, voice raspy with sleep. Her hair is slightly messy now, sticking to her cheek, and the blanket you'd pulled over her is twisted around her legs. She shifts, then winces. "Ugh, my neck."

You glance at the clock on Jiwoo's desk. "Almost eleven."

She sits up slowly, groaning, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't mean to knock out. What even happened in the movie?"

You shrug. "No idea. I stopped watching after the opening credits."

She lets out a breathy laugh and turns to face you, knees drawn up to her chest under the blanket. "Nice. So neither of us knows how it ends."

"It's fine, it was probably a pretty shit movie anyway." You glance over at her, bundled up in the blanket and her posture curled into a ball on the couch, hair a mess, sleep still lingering in her eyes, giving off the vibe of a domestic girlfriend.

After a moment of comfortable silence, she suggests, "We should probably get back to work, shouldn't we? Don't you still have that one creative writing assignment?"

You groan at the reminder. It's the same one you'd been putting off for weeks, stuck at the same line, the same blank page that somehow felt more personal than it had any right to be. Your task required you to add a mature spin on your piece, and you were struggling with the details.

"I hate that you remember things like this," you mutter, dragging a hand down your face.

She grins, stretching her arms above her head before flopping back against the couch cushions. "Someone has to hold you accountable."

You sigh, already dragging your laptop over from the coffee table and flipping it open with all the enthusiasm of a funeral march. She does the same with her iPad, propping it up on her knees and opening her notes app.

For a while, the only sound you hear is the low hum of rain with the occasional thunder, and the soft tapping of keys and stylus against glass. It's oddly peaceful and domestic, in a way that makes your chest ache with something you don't want to name.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes pass. Then, out of nowhere:

"Hey."

You glance up. She isn't looking at you, still staring at her screen, light reflecting off the frame of her reading glasses, but there's a slight furrow in her brow now. Like she's hesitating.

"Just now, when I was sleeping, I dreamt of something."

Your interest is piqued as you shift closer to her every so slightly.

"That night on the rooftop," she says slowly, "Jiwoo's party... did I ever say anything weird to you?"

You freeze, fingers hovering over your keyboard, mid-sentence.

"...Define weird?"

She finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I dunno. I just... I remember laughing a lot. You said something about Jiwoo being a good kisser, and I remember thinking, 'God, I should kiss him just to wipe that smug off his face.'"

You blink, startled, a flush crawling up your neck as you wonder if the alcohol from that day carried over in her system. "You—what?"

"I didn't, obviously." She's still smiling, but her voice has dipped lower, softer. "But I thought about it. That's what I remember."

You sit back slowly, marvelling at the coincidence that just about 20 minutes ago you were thinking about the exact same thing.

"Yeah," you murmur, just loud enough for her to hear. "I remember that too."

Another rumble of thunder rolls outside, low and distant this time.

The silence is different now; it's charged, like a pulled string waiting to snap. She doesn't look away, and neither do you.

Her hair's still tousled from sleep, a few strands falling into her eyes. Her cheeks are faintly flushed, maybe from the warmth of the blanket, maybe from something else. And the curve of her mouth is soft and uncertain, almost as if she's holding something back, like she's waiting for you to break first.

You take her in like you're seeing her for the first time — really seeing her. The delicate slope of her shoulders exposed from the crop top, her toned body that elicited such wild thoughts in your head, and the way she absently rubs a thumb against the blanket's edge.

Her bare legs are folded up beneath her, one foot peeking out from under the fabric, toes curling slightly against the cushion. There's something unguarded about her, her usual sharp wit and lazy confidence replaced with a quiet vulnerability.

She looks at you the way someone might study a half-finished painting, unsure if it's worth finishing, but unable to stop staring.

Your heart starts to beat louder than the rain as you swallow.

"Yoon-Ah..."

Your voice is barely above a whisper.

She doesn't respond right away — just watches you, eyes searching yours. Then her gaze flicks down, just briefly, to your lips.

And that's all it takes.

You lean in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, but she doesn't. Her eyes flutter shut just before your lips meet, unsure at first, like she was still starting to test the reality of it. It's hesitant and exploratory, but because she was her, it felt more warm and real.

Her hand finds your sleeve, fingers lightly curling there, grounding herself. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss just slightly, careful, reverent, like either of you might vanish if you move too fast.

When she pulls back, it's only by an inch. Her breath is warm against your cheek, unsteady, and you can feel the flutter of her lashes as her eyes open.

And in the quiet, with only the rain bearing witness, she whispers, "Just so we're clear," her voice husky, "there's no alcohol talking this time.

You smile, heart still hammering. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."

You lean back in for another kiss, a deeper one this time. She meets you halfway, more determined now.

Her hand rises to your jaw, thumb brushing the edge of your cheekbone. And when your tongue brushes lightly against her bottom lip, asking permission more than anything else, she grants it, parting her lips just enough.

Just when you think you're in control, she overwhelms you. She pulls away from your lips as her hand moves down from your jaw to your chest, pushing you back so that your back is lying on the armrest.

She climbs onto you, straddling your lap as her arms wrap around your neck.

Then, the most unexpected thing comes from her. "You still need help with that assignment, don’t you?"

Not exactly a mood spoiler, but it definitely confused you. "What?"

She grins, tired droopy eyelids gone as her energy seems to have returned, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes. It’s the same one you’d seen so many times during her teasing sessions in the library while you were trying to concentrate. Except this time, she’s seated on your lap, your hands still on her waist and hers around your neck, her breath ghosting across your lips.

"You heard me. Didn’t you say you had trouble continuing that part?" She smirks, her voice back to that low and playful tone.

You'd told her about the requirements of your project, how you were supposed to write something with a heavier, mature tone, and how you were stuck at the steamy scene. "Right, but… why are you talking about it now?"

Her grin spreads wider than ever, her eyes sparkling with a mix of confidence and… seduction?

She leans in next to your ear, breath heavy, and drops an absolute bombshell on you. "Well, you write better when you improvise, don’t you? I can help with that."

You look back up at her, your eyes blown wide open.

Before you’re able to respond, she pulls you back in with her arms and kisses you again. This time, it’s bolder, hungrier, as if she found her confidence and was now projecting it onto you. You have no choice but to respond with equal passion, your tongues meeting in a slow, steady rhythm. Her hands travel all over your hair, pulling you in closer in bunches, making it hurt in a good way.

Your hands travel down from her waist, slipping below the waistband of her sweatpants. She doesn’t object, so you grab a handful of her ass and give it a light squeeze, eliciting a muffled moan, an exhale that just feels so damn good with her lips against yours.

It’s heated, it's passionate, and it’s going way too fast, probably a release of the months of tension since meeting each other.

Her hands leave the mess that your hair is, a mess that she created, and they move down and slip under your shirt. She starts caressing your abs, her touch sending jolts throughout your entire body that even the thunderstorm couldn’t bring out of you.

You decide to just slip out of your shirt completely, and Yoon-Ah follows suit, taking off her crop top, and her perky breasts drop with a bounce. They're small, but to you they're perfect. You take her left nipple into your mouth and she yelps in response, throwing her head back. It only fuels you more, her reaction. You slide her sweatpants off, leaving her clad in her panties.

Regretfully, your mouth leaves her breasts as you take her by the waist, carrying her off your lap, and you lay her down on the couch. You start worshipping every inch of her body, her toned yet soft midriff, her breathy moans and sighs growing in frequency as her body trembled beneath you at your every touch.

Seeing her in this state, your member hardens even further, as you now contemplate moving down further. You leave a trail of kisses down to the elastic waistband of her panties, before looking up at her, more for permission than anything.

"P-please… don’t stop.."

That’s all the confirmation you need. You slip her panties down, revealing her slick opening, wet from all the teasing.

"God, you’re dripping for me already." You slip a finger in her slick folds, more to tease than anything. She shudders, moans getting higher pitched. "Oh, fuck…"

You try putting another finger in, this time with greater difficulty. "Holy shit, how are you this tight?" You marvel at it as your fingers circle her clit with purpose.

"I—oh god—it’s my first time." She tries to bring her knees up, as if overwhelmed by the stimulation.

"I recall someone saying they 'had fun' with Jiwoo before," you say in a playful tone, before focusing on thrusting in and out of her warm folds as your fingers become coated with her juices.

"My first time with a guy, asshole… oh shit, don’t stop, please…" She grabs the cushion, tight, her eyes shut, focusing purely on the pleasure.

"I wasn't planning to," you smirk, fingers thrusting harder. She seems to enjoy the added intensity as she starts to grind her hips against your hand, trying to stimulate it further for her. She’s sweating somehow, even with the AC blasting cold air.

"Wait-please…I need… more," she begs, her hips moving harder. It's the ultimate ego boost for you as you take your fingers out.

She whimpers, actually whimpers, and moves her hands down to pleasure herself with the absence of yours. You move your lips to kiss the inside of her thighs, just beside her dripping opening, drawing a long, breathy moan from her.

You kiss the other side, before finally settling in on her pink folds, watching how her body is writhing with pleasure. Her hands rub harder, just above her clitoral hood, and you watch how her pussy glistens in the light of the dorm.

"Spread further for me, Yoon-Ah," you say as you move in closer to her core. She obeys with little hesitation, mind too preoccupied by the want — no, the need to feel good. Her legs part slowly, exposing even more of herself to you, and you nearly break right then and there.

You decide to reward her, pressing a soft kiss against her pussy, the musky, honey-like scent almost overrides your brain. She breathes heavily, tilting her head back further as she pulls her hand away. Your hand moves to grab the back of her thighs, allowing you to pull your tongue even deeper into her slit as you take a longer lick, tasting the sweetness directly from the source.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, please, don’t you ever stop," her voice shakes, trembling with pleasure.

Hearing her in this state only spurs you on even further. You focus on her clit as you mix kisses in with darts of your tongue, circling it with dedication.

You take in the whispers and moans, the ohmygods.They fuel your desire to continue, to make her feel even better, to make her come.

Your tongue flicks across her clit, and you involve your hand in, rubbing the nub just above where your tongue was working. It seems to work wonders as she starts gushing, her slick juices coating your mouth and chin.

"Don't stop, please, god… I’m so close…" she sighs, as if her brain had completely given up on trying to overcome the pleasure. Her body jerks every time your tongue tastes her clit, her body quivers with every rub of your fingers.

"That's it, Yoon-Ah. Just come for me," you murmur against her pussy. She tries to use her hands to bring herself closer to orgasm, the left one pulling you in closer by your hair, the right one rubbing her nipples, stimulating herself further.

With every lick across her folds, she grabs your hair tighter, pulling your head even closer. Her breathlessness and occasional low groan only make your cock throb in pain against your boxers even more.

"Wait… please, I'm almost there, fuck," she bites her lips, hard enough to draw blood, hands travelling all over your hair. You start rubbing the area just above her pussy harder, tasting her folds with renewed vigour, set on making her come.

"Oh, that’s it — oh fuck!" Her legs wrap around you, her thighs clamping around your head as she comes undone. She comes gushing like a waterfall as she tugs on your hair even harder, almost hard enough to pluck it out.

You taste her slick goodness, a mixture of sweet honey and tanginess. "Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to pull that hard," she says in between gasps, body still shuddering. "God, that was… Jiwoo definitely didn't make me cum like that."

You chuckle, "I'm not that experienced either, but I'm glad to be of service."

She lets out an airy laugh, still trying to catch her breath. "It's my turn now, right?"

You glance at her in careful anticipation, "You don't have to if you don’t feel like it."

She shakes her head with a grin on her face, "How could I not after you made me cum like that? We're not done with our improvisation yet, anyway."

You exhale audibly, your cock growing harder against the waistband of your boxers in excitement.

She notices the growing bulge in your pants before palming your member, her soft touch eliciting a low groan from you as your body shudders.

She pushes you back lightly, allowing you to rest your head on the couch, before pulling your shorts down and taking your cock out.

It throbs in reaction to hitting the cold air, before her warm, dainty fingers wrap around it. It jerks involuntarily against her hands, and she giggles.

"He's excited, isn’t he?" She teasingly rubs the tip, her fingers stroking the cock head, before pressing a kiss on it.

The irony of the complete 180 from before, when she was surrendered to your touch, isn't lost on you as she now completely took control over your pleasure.

You let out a low growl, "You fucking tease."

She smiles up at you, a sly look etched on her face, highlighted by the rectangular frames of her glasses. "Consider it payback for that Jiwoo comment just now."

Then, she takes you in her mouth, and it’s just pure heaven.

For someone's first time giving a blowjob, she almost seemed like an expert. Her cheeks hollow as she takes you deeper, almost reaching the base of your cock, occasionally taking you out of her mouth and pressing wet, sloppy kisses along the slide of your shaft.

It's too overwhelming, seeing her head bob up and down, working on your cock. You lie on the couch with one hand resting beneath your head, the other pushing her head further down your shaft.

"Fuck, you’re sure this is your first time?" Your voice drops low, almost like a growl, as you take in all the pleasure. She doesn’t respond; instead, she focuses solely on sucking your cock.

And whenever she pulls back up for air, a trail of spit follows her mouth. Then she licks your tip, tasting it like a lollipop, and when her eyes make contact with yours, that innocent, pouty look etched across her face, you almost come right there and then.

"Fuck, I’m so close, Yoon-Ah. Don’t stop, keep going for me, baby. You’re sucking my cock so good."

She seems to relish your praise as she starts to work the underside of your shaft with her tongue, whilst throating almost your entire length at the same time.

It doesn't take long before you feel like you’re about to burst, and you signal to Yoon-Ah, "Fucking hell, I’m gonna come..."

At that, she gets down from the couch, takes you out of her mouth and strokes you while on her knees. She slightly (adorably) tries to push up he breasts with her other arm.

It’s a sight to behold.

"Come all over me, I want it everywhere," she sticks her tongue out, eyes fluttering in anticipation.

Your cock twitches and jerks with her strokes, and that's when you know you’re about to burst.

"Ohh, fuck…"

Thick, heavy spurts shoot out from your cock, painting the frame of her glasses and her cheeks in white.

The next few spurts land on her breasts, coating her chest in thick globs. She spreads it all the way up to her collarbone and down to her stomach, her whole upper body now glistening in your sticky release, a sight that makes your cock twitch in her hands as she's still jerking you off.

The last few weak dribbles make their way down to her exposed mouth, and she tastes you with a few smacks of her lips.

You're left speechless at the sight of her, and she has the audacity to smile sheepishly back at you.

"Holy shit, that was —,"

The lock clicks.

You both freeze, unable to register what was going on. It’s not the soft kind of hesitation. It’s that primal, heart-stopping, full-body paralysis — the kind where your blood goes cold before your brain catches up.

Yoon-Ah comes to her senses first. "Fuck, is Jiwoo back early?"

You turn to look at her, genuinely horrified.

The door creaks open. A suitcase wheels across the threshold.

"...I'm back early!" Jiwoo calls cheerfully. "You guys will not believe what happened in Jeju—"

Her suitcase falls to the ground with a plop.

“Oh my god. Are you two—?”

END

Apologies, I meant to release this 3 days ago but it took a little longer than expected. The first few thousand words had already been written long ago; the smut was what I struggled with. The small details, as well, like figuring out the Korean university system, or how their national service worked. (I researched, and apparently it's the norm to enrol in university first before enlisting, and they don't even get to book out during NS. Weird huh, @sinswithpleasure @co-reborn).

I was also torn between making this a full-fledged fluff fic or smut fic, but in the end I decided to go for a build-up to light smut. It's not your typical "one-theme" one-shot, but there'll be more of those in future. This is just a fic that I really wanted to try writing and publishing.

I know there's an unsatisfying ending, but if you want a part 2 with Jiwoo, please vote above. Also, my smut writing needs work, that much I know. Hopefully, with my future stories exploring more themes and kinks, I'll be able to flesh it out more.

Anyways, feel free to leave a comment and ask about anything, that'd be greatly appreciated :)

Planted and spread by Moss 🌱

[kissmewakemeup]

Ambassador Contract ft Karina Aespa

Words : 10k

Tags : squirting, spanking, record sex

"You're not going to believe this," Karina said into the phone, her voice a mix of excitement and incredulity. "Nike wants me to be their brand ambassador!"

Her best friend, Minju, shrieked on the other end of the line. "Oh my god, Karina! That's huge! What's the catch?"

"Well, there's this one...small...requirement," Karina hesitated, fiddling with her long, glossy black hair. She had been bouncing around her apartment all day, unable to contain her nerves.

"What is it?" Minju’s curiosity was palpable, even through the phone.

"I have to...you know...have a 'personal relationship' with the CEO's son." Karina's cheeks flushed at the thought. She had always been a professional, keeping her private life separate from her career. But the payment was too good to refuse, and it was just for a little while, right?

The silence on the line stretched out, punctuated by the distant sound of traffic.

"Wow," Minju finally said. "That's...wow. What did you say?"

Karina took a deep breath and looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of her high-rise apartment, the city lights twinkling like stars in the early evening. "I said yes," she replied, her voice steady.

The day of the meeting with the Nike CEO's son, "y/n", arrived sooner than Karina had anticipated. She had spent hours agonizing over what to wear, her heart racing with every outfit she tried on. Finally, she settled for a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and made her legs look like they went on forever. Her reflection in the mirror was both thrilling and terrifying.

"You can do this," she murmured to herself, her voice echoing in the empty room.

The lobby of the Nike headquarters was a testament to the brand's success—sleek, modern, and bustling with energy. Karina's heels clicked against the marble floor as she approached the receptionist. The woman looked up and smiled. "You must be Karina," she said. "Mr. y/n is waiting for you upstairs."

Karina nodded and took the elevator, her palms sticky with sweat. She had no idea what to expect from this 'personal relationship'. Would it be a one-time thing? Would it be ongoing? The questions swirled in her head like a tornado.

The doors to the executive suite opened, revealing a spacious office with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city. "Karina," a deep voice said, and she turned to face the man who would soon be her...what? Lover? Employer? Both?

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a cocky smirk that made her stomach flutter. He wore a tailored suit that accentuated his athletic build, and his eyes—oh, those eyes—were the color of the ocean at midnight.

"Hi," she managed to croak out, her throat dry.

"Call me y/n," he said, extending a hand. His grip was firm, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "So, you're the famous Karina."

"Yeah," she replied with a forced smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," he said, his gaze lingering on her chest before meeting her eyes again. "I've heard a lot about you."

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Karina sat down on the leather sofa, her legs crossed demurely. "So, about this brand ambassador thing," she began, trying to keep the conversation professional.

Y/n leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Ah, yes," he said, his tone turning serious. "Let's get one thing straight. The deal is this: you represent Nike, and in return, you're mine."

Karina's heart raced. "Yours?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded. "My private slut. Whenever I want, however I want." His eyes glinted with a mix of challenge and desire.

Karina felt a shiver run down her spine, but she held her ground. "Okay," she said, her voice a little shakier than she would have liked. "As long as it doesn't interfere with my career."

Y/n leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "It won't," he assured her. "In fact, it'll only enhance it. But remember, this is strictly between us. No one can know."

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog. Karina nodded, trying to process what she had just agreed to. Her heart pounded in her chest as she followed y/n to his private apartment, located in the same building as the Nike headquarters. It was a sprawling space, with high ceilings and walls adorned with abstract art. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered an even more stunning view of the city than the office had.

Once inside, y/n tossed a black Nike tank top at her. "Put this on," he instructed, his voice firm. Karina felt a strange mix of excitement and fear as she began to strip off her dress. She had never been so exposed, so vulnerable, in front of a man she barely knew. But the promise of becoming a Nike Brand Ambassador was too alluring to ignore. She slipped on the tank top, her ample breasts straining against the fabric.

Y/n's gaze swept over her, his eyes darkening with desire. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the logo on her chest. Karina's breath hitched as she felt his touch, the warmth of his fingertips sending a thrill through her body.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Now, let's see if you can handle the first part of your new role." He pushed her onto the bed, and she gasped as he began to explore her body with a hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Karina's mind raced, trying to reconcile the reality of what was happening with the glamorous image of herself as a brand ambassador.

Y/n's hands were everywhere, his touch leaving a trail of fire across her skin. Karina felt her resolve wavering, but the thought of the lucrative deal kept her in place. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sensations, the way his fingers danced over her curves, the way his lips trailed kisses down her neck. It was strange, but she couldn't deny that her body was responding to his touch.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. Karina opened her eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "You're mine now," he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. "And I'll make sure you're treated like the queen you are."

With a groan, y/n claimed her mouth in a kiss that was as fierce as it was passionate. Karina moaned, her body arching into his touch. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help but feel a spark of desire ignite within her.

Their kiss grew deeper, their bodies moving in sync as the tension between them grew. Karina's hands roamed over his muscular chest, feeling the beat of his heart matching hers. The sound of their breathing filled the room, punctuated by the occasional moan or gasp.

Y/n's hand slid under her tank top, cupping her breast. He tweaked her nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her core. Karina's eyes widened, and she bit her lip, trying to stifle the sound. He chuckled against her mouth, the vibration sending another shiver down her spine.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss, his eyes searching hers. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his voice softer now. Karina took a deep breath, nodding. "I need to hear you say it," he insisted.

"I want this," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I want to be your...your private slut."

Y/n's eyes lit up with excitement. "Good girl," he murmured, before capturing her mouth in another soul-searing kiss. His hands roamed further, sliding down to her waist and then lower, caressing her hips and thighs. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down. Karina's breath hitched as the cool air hit her heated skin.

He pulled away, his eyes locked on hers as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. "How big is the biggest dick you've ever taken?" he asked, his voice thick with anticipation.

Karina swallowed hard. "5 inches long and 1.1 inches in girth," she replied, her cheeks flushing. She had never been one to brag about her conquests, but the question seemed to demand an answer.

Y/n smirked, revealing his own impressive length. "Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to upgrade you," he said, his tone teasing. "I'm a bit larger than that."

Karina's eyes widened as she took in the full extent of him. "10 inches...long with 2.5 inches in girth?" she managed to ask, her voice a squeak.

"That's right," y/n said with a smug grin, stroking himself with a casual confidence that made Karina's stomach flip. "But don't worry," he added, noticing her apprehension, "I'll go easy on you at first."

He positioned her at the edge of the bed, her legs spread wide, the camera on the nightstand capturing everything. "Now, show me," he said, his voice firm. "Show the world how much of a slut you can be for Nike."

Karina took a deep breath and threw the tank top over her head, her full breasts bouncing free. She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the room kissed her skin, sending goosebumps across her body. She felt a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal as she began to play with her nipples, rolling them between her thumbs and forefingers.

"I am the Nike private slut," she murmured into the camera, her voice laced with a hint of defiance. She watched y/n's eyes glued to the screen, his hand moving rhythmically over his shaft as he took in the sight of her. She slid her hand down her stomach, her fingers dancing over the soft mound of her sex before dipping into her wetness.

"And what do private sluts do?" y/n asked, his voice a low growl.

"They do whatever they're told," Karina responded, her voice breathy. She began to rub her clit in slow, deliberate circles, watching his reaction in the camera. "I am a slut for money," she continued, her voice gaining confidence with each word. "And I'll do anything to keep this deal."

The room was filled with the sound of her own moans, the camera's red light blinking like a heartbeat. Y/n's eyes never left the screen, his own breathing growing ragged as he watched her. "Keep going," he urged, his voice strained. "Show me how much you want this."

Karina's hand moved faster, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. "I'll be the best slut you've ever had," she panted. "I'll do everything you want, when you want it." She inserted two fingers into herself, the sensation making her hips buck. "I'll take whatever you give me."

With a final moan that seemed to echo through the vastness of the suite, Karina's body convulsed in pleasure. Her squirt jetted out, a glorious arc that splashed against the cold lens of the camera. It was a golden moment, captured in high definition, a testament to her body's submission to the situation. She felt a strange sense of pride, mixed with a hint of shock at her own actions. She had never been so uninhibited before, but the promise of the Nike deal had unlocked a part of her she didn't know existed—a side that craved the power of being desired and the thrill of the forbidden.

Y/n watched the display with a look of pure triumph, his own arousal evident. He stepped closer, his cock now fully erect, the veins standing out like a roadmap of desire. "Very good," he praised, his eyes never leaving the camera. "Now, let's see if you can handle the real thing."

Karina's legs felt like jelly as she slid off the bed to her knees, the plush carpet cushioning her descent. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. He reached down and stroked her cheek, his touch gentle despite his earlier roughness. "You're doing great," he said, his voice soothing. "Just remember, this is for us. For the deal."

Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and took the tip of his cock into her mouth. It tasted faintly salty, the scent of his desire filling the room. Y/n groaned, his hand tangling in her hair as he guided her movements. "That's it," he murmured. "Suck it like it's the last thing you'll ever taste."

The camera zoomed in, capturing every detail of her submission. Karina's eyes watered as she took more of him in, her cheeks hollowing out with the effort. She could feel the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat, the girth stretching her lips to their limits. She gagged slightly, and y/n chuckled, his grip tightening. "Take it all," he ordered.

Her eyes never left the camera as she deep-throated him, her throat muscles contracting around his shaft. The sound of her muffled moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain. Y/n's breathing grew ragged, his hips bucking slightly with each stroke. "Look how good you are," he said, his voice strained. "You're a natural."

Karina's eyes watered even more as she tried to breathe through her nose, her mouth and throat filled with his length. She felt a strange sense of pride, knowing she was pleasing him. Her hands found his thighs, her nails digging into his skin as she balanced herself, her body moving in time with his thrusts.

"You're doing so good, baby," he praised, his voice strained with pleasure. "So tight, so perfect."

Y/n's hand grabbed a fistful of Karina's hair, pulling her back to stop her for a moment. She gasped for air, her eyes watering and her throat feeling raw. He studied her flushed face, the glint in his eyes showing his excitement. "Ready for more?"

Karina nodded, her heart racing as she took a deep breath. Y/n smirked and thrust his cock back into her mouth, pushing it down her throat harder than before. She gagged, her eyes watering even more, but she didn't pull away. The sound of his pleasure filled the room, mixing with her own muffled whimpers.

His grip tightened in her hair, his hips moving in a fast, punishing rhythm. She felt his cock hit the back of her throat with each stroke, her eyes bulging slightly. Karina's hands reached up to cup his ass, urging him deeper. Despite the pain, she felt a thrill run through her—the power of being able to give him such pleasure, to be the one he crave.

"Glukkk... Glukkk..." The only sounds she could make around the thickness of him, her cheeks hollowed with effort. The salty taste of his pre-cum coated her tongue, mixing with the sweetness of her own mouth. His saliva dripped from her chin, pooling on her chest and making a wet sound as it hit the carpet. She knew he liked it—his grip on her hair grew more insistent, his thrusts more urgent.

Karina's eyes watered so badly she could barely see, but she never broke eye contact with the camera. The red light was her beacon, the proof of her commitment to the deal. She was the Nike private slut, and she would do whatever it took to keep that title.

"I wanna cum," y/n grunted, his hand moving faster in her hair. "Swallow it all."

The words were like a command, a challenge she couldn't refuse. With a final thrust, he erupted into her mouth, filling her with a warm, salty flood. She choked on the thick fluid, her own saliva mixing with it as she desperately tried to swallow every drop. It was too much, and she felt some of it dribble down her chin, but she kept going, her cheeks hollowing as she gulped down his seed.

"Good girl," he praised, his grip loosening slightly. "So eager to please."

Karina felt a mix of relief and pride as he pulled out, his cock still pulsing with the last of his orgasm. She sat back on her heels, her mouth full, her throat burning from the effort. She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes shining with a mix of submission and satisfaction.

Y/n's eyes were glazed with lust as he watched her. He stroked her cheek, a gentle touch that seemed at odds with the roughness of the moment. "You did so well," he said, his voice hoarse. "I knew you had it in you."

Karina nodded, her mouth still full. She managed to swallow the last of his cum, the act feeling almost ritualistic. He reached down and wiped her chin with his thumb, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean. The intimacy of the gesture sent another shiver down her spine.

"What do you want for next?" he prompted, his voice a low rumble.

Taking a deep breath, Karina leaned closer to the camera, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I want you to fuck me," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "I want the world to see me as the Nike slut I am."

Y/n's smile grew, his hand reaching down to stroke her cheek. "Perfect," he said, his voice dripping with approval. "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees."

Karina scrambled to obey, her heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation. She had never done anything like this before—never allowed herself to be so openly sexual, never been so raw and exposed. But the deal was made, and she had to see it through.

The bed was cool against her skin as she positioned herself, her ass in the air, her pussy wet and waiting. The camera hovered above them, capturing every inch of her submission.

"Look at that perfect ass," y/n said, his voice filled with lust. "So round and inviting."

Karina felt a thrill of excitement at his words, despite the sting from his hand. She knew he liked what he saw, and it fueled her desire to give him what he wanted. She looked up at the camera, her eyes glazed with need, and bit her bottom lip, pouting slightly. It was a look she had practiced in the mirror—the needy slut face, the one that said she was eager and willing to please.

"Good," he murmured, his hand coming down again, this time a little harder. She yelped, the pain sending a jolt through her body. But it was a good pain, a pain that made her wetter, that made her want more. She pushed her hips back, silently begging for his touch.

Y/n chuckled, his hand coming down again and again in a steady rhythm that matched the throb of her clit. "You like that, don't you?" he taunted, his voice thick with desire. "You're such a slut for it."

"Yes," she moaned, her voice desperate. "I like it. I'm a slut for you."

Y/n's smile grew wolfish. He positioned himself behind her, his cock nudging at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, his eyes never leaving hers in the camera's reflection. Karina felt herself stretching around him, the burn of his girth making her gasp. "It's so big," she whimpered, her voice shaking.

He chuckled, his hand coming down hard on her ass again. "You're doing great," he said, his voice strained with his own desire. "Take it all."

"I can't," Karina sobbed, her voice strained. She felt so full, so used, but the pain was turning into a deep, gnawing ache that was driving her crazy.

Y/n leaned over her, his breath hot on her neck. "You can," he murmured. "You're a Nike slut. You can handle it."

And with that, he slammed into her, the force of his thrust making her scream "Ahhhhhh." It was a sound of pure agony and ecstasy, a sound that seemed to echo through the entire suite. Her body quivered around him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming size of his cock. He was right—she had never taken anything so big before, but she was determined to prove herself worthy of the role.

"You're stretching me to the limit," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut as she focused on the feeling of fullness.

Y/n leaned over her, his breath hot against her ear. "Keep talking," he whispered, his hand coming down on her ass again. "Tell me how it feels."

Karina took a deep breath, willing herself to relax around him. "It's...it's so big," she moaned, her voice thick with need. "I can feel every inch of you."

He began to move slowly, his hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that had her panting. Each thrust was a deliberate claiming, a testament to his dominance over her body. She could feel every ridge of his cock, every pulse of his veins as he moved within her. It was almost too much, but she didn't want it to stop.

"It feels like I'm being split in two," she whimpered, her voice shaking. "But it's so good."

Their bodies moved together in a dance of desire, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Karina's moans grew louder, her voice echoing off the walls. "Fuck me," she begged, her voice desperate. "I'm yours, y/n. I'm your Nike slut."

Y/n's grip on her hips tightened, his movements growing more forceful. "That's it," he growled. "Take it all. You're mine now."

Karina felt the pressure building, her body straining for release. But with his thickness filling her so completely, she could feel the beginnings of her squirt, but it was as if there was no room for it to escape. It was a strange, frustrating sensation—like being on the brink of an orgasm but unable to tip over the edge. Her muscles clenched around him, trying to milk him, trying to get that sweet release she so desperately craved.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice strained with his own need. "It's like your pussy is trying to keep me inside."

"I'm...I'm gonna...I can't..." Karina stuttered, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. The feeling was overwhelming, the need to squirt almost painful.

"Go ahead," y/n said, his voice tight with his own control. "Let it out."

With a final, desperate moan, she did. Her body collapsed onto the bed, her knees giving out from under her. Her pussy clenched around nothing but air, but it was as if y/n's cock was still deep inside her, her muscles contracting in a frenzy. Her body spasmed, her legs kicking and her toes curling as the most powerful orgasm of her life ripped through her. The sound of her squirt was like a symphony, her juices soaking the bed beneath her.

Y/n watched with a mix of amazement and hunger. He had never seen a woman come so hard, so uninhibitedly. "You're so beautiful when you cum," he murmured, his cock still rock-hard and demanding release.

Before Karina could fully recover from her climax, he lifted her ass off the bed, his hands firm and unyielding. She whimpered in protest, but her body was already responding, her pussy clenching with the anticipation of more. "No, it's too much," she managed to say, her voice a breathless whisper.

He paid no heed to her pleas, stroking his cock in a slow, deliberate motion. "You can take it," he said, his voice filled with confidence. "You're a Nike slut. You can handle anything."

Karina's eyes widened with both fear and excitement as she felt the head of his cock nudge against her sensitive entrance. "I can't," she begged, her voice trembling. "Please."

But y/n was relentless. He pushed into her again, his thickness filling her to the brim. She screamed, her body bucking against him as she tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion. "It's okay," he murmured, his strokes growing faster. "You're doing so good."

Her pussy was tight and wet around him, the walls pulsing with aftershocks of her orgasm. Y/n felt his own need growing, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had her moaning in a mix of pleasure and pain. "You're so tight," he groaned, his voice strained. "So fucking tight."

Karina's nails dug into the bed, her body writhing beneath him. "It's too much," she gasped, her voice barely audible. "Please, stop."

But he didn't stop. Instead, he grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto him, his cock sliding in even deeper. "You're mine," he growled. "Mine to use, mine to fuck."

With each thrust, Karina felt herself losing a little more control. Her mind was a whirlwind of sensation, her body a playground for his desires. She didn't know if she could take much more, but she also didn't want it to end. The camera continued to roll, capturing every intimate detail of their encounter.

Y/n reached around, his hand finding her clit. He began to rub it in tight, fast circles, his other hand holding her in place as he pounded into her. "Cum for me again," he ordered, his voice thick with need.

Her body responded, her muscles tightening around him. Another orgasm began to build, the pressure mounting until she thought she would burst. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she moaned, her voice a desperate chant.

Y/n's eyes narrowed, watching her face intently. He knew she was close. With a final, brutal thrust, he reached around and pinched her clit, hard. Karina's eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed as she came again, her body convulsing with the force of it. The squirt that followed was so powerful, it pushed his cock out of her pussy, spraying his cum and her juices across the bed.

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the bed, her body boneless. The room was silent except for their heavy breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Y/n withdrew completely, his cock glistening with their combined fluids. He leaned over her, his chest heaving, his eyes never leaving her face. "You're mine," he said, his voice a possessive growl. "My little Nike slut."

---

Karina's pussy continued to spasm around nothing, her body still caught in the throes of pleasure. She couldn't speak, could barely think. All she knew was the feeling of his cum leaking out of her, the sticky warmth of it against her thighs. It was a strange, humiliating sensation, but it only made her want more.

With a groan, y/n leaned down and kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth. The taste of herself on him was intoxicating, a reminder of the power exchange that had just taken place. He pulled away, his eyes searching hers. "You're amazing," he whispered. "So beautiful."

Karina felt a warmth spread through her, the intensity of the encounter leaving her feeling both vulnerable and powerful. She reached up to touch his face, her hand trembling slightly. "Thank you," she murmured.

Karina's eyes fluttered closed, her body spent and trembling from the intensity of their encounter. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, her mind drifting into a haze of contentment. But y/n wasn't done with her yet. His hand trailed down her spine, his fingers slipping between her thighs to gently part her folds. She jolted at the touch, her body still sensitive from the relentless pounding she had endured.

His tongue followed, flicking against her clit with a teasing gentleness that had her moaning softly. Karina's body tensed, the feeling of his warm mouth on her skin jolting her back to reality. "No more," she protested weakly, but her words held no conviction.

Y/n's chuckle was muffled against her sex as his tongue grew more insistent, lapping and swirling until she was panting and arching her back. His fingers slid into her, curling and stroking until she was wet and ready for him again. "You're so responsive," he murmured against her skin, his voice filled with wonder. "I can't get enough of you."

Karina felt the pressure building again, her pussy clenching around his digits. She could feel the beginnings of another squirt, a thought that both thrilled and terrified her. "I can't," she gasped, her eyes flying open. "I can't handle it."

But y/n's mouth was relentless, his tongue working in perfect harmony with his fingers. She felt her body betraying her, responding to his touch despite her protests. Her moans grew louder, her hips bucking involuntarily.

Suddenly, she was awake, her eyes snapping open as she felt the inevitable rush of pleasure. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she warned, her voice strained.

Y/n's response was to suck harder, his fingers moving faster. "Cum for me," he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. "Cum all over my hand."

The words sent her over the edge. Karina's body spasmed, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she squirted once more. The force of her orgasm was so intense, she couldn't hold back the scream that tore from her throat. Y/n pulled back, watching as she came, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "So beautiful," he whispered, his hand coming up to show her the proof of her submission.

---

Her eyes were wide with shock as she took in the sight of his hand, slick with her juices. She had never been so wet, so wanton. "What have you done to me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Y/n leaned over her, his smile wicked. "I've claimed you," he said, his voice low and possessive. "You're my Nike slut now."

Karina's cheeks flushed at the words, a strange mix of fear and excitement coursing through her. She had never felt so used, so owned. But there was something about the way he said it that had her pussy clenching with need. She pushed herself up onto her knees, her legs shaky but determined. "I'm yours," she murmured, her eyes never leaving his.

"Now ride me properly," y/n ordered, his cock bobbing in front of her. "Make me believe it."

Her heart racing, Karina straddled him, her pussy still sore and swollen from his previous attentions. She took a deep breath, willing herself to focus on the task at hand. With a grace that belied her exhaustion, she lowered herself onto his cock, her eyes never leaving his. The head of his cock breached her entrance, sending a shiver through her body.

"Ahh..." she gasped, her eyes widening at the feeling of fullness.

"That's it," y/n coached, his hands on her hips, guiding her down. "Take it slow."

Karina nodded, bracing herself as she pushed down further. His cock stretched her, filling her completely, until she felt like she couldn't possibly take any more. But she kept going, her eyes glazed with a mix of pain and pleasure.

The moment she had half of him inside her, he pulled her down suddenly, the rest of his length plunging into her in one swift movement. She screamed, the pain mixing with the shock of the sudden intrusion. "AHHHHHH," she moaned, her body trembling.

He didn't give her time to recover, instead using the momentum to begin to thrust up into her. His movements were punishing, each stroke driving him deeper into her tight channel. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut, her body writhing as she tried to adjust to the sensation. Her nails dug into his chest as she rode him, her movements frantic and uncoordinated. Y/n's hands held her hips firmly, guiding her up and down, his own hips bucking to meet her. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

Karina's eyes snapped open, meeting his intense gaze in the reflection of the camera lens. He watched her, his eyes dark with lust, his teeth clenched as he fought for control. "So fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "The way you're taking me, like you were made for this."

Her cheeks flushed, a thrill running through her at his words. She had never felt so desired, so wanted. She leaned forward, her breasts bouncing in his face as she rode him harder, her pussy clenching around his shaft with each downward stroke. The pain was forgotten, replaced by a fierce need to make him cum.

"You're so beautiful," y/n murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "So perfect."

Karina's breath hitched, her movements becoming more erratic as another orgasm began to build. His praise was like a drug, pushing her higher and higher. "I'm...I'm gonna..." she stuttered, her voice breaking.

He sat up, his hands cupping her breasts as he took over the rhythm. "Cum for me," he whispered, his thumbs flicking over her nipples. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she did just that, her pussy convulsing around him as she screamed out her release. The sensation was overwhelming, the most intense of her life. She could feel him swell inside her, his cock pulsing as he followed her over the edge.

Y/n's grip on her hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Fuck, Karina," he groaned, his voice strained. "I'm gonna cum."

With a final, desperate thrust, he exploded inside her, filling her with his hot seed. Karina collapsed onto him, her body limp and trembling. They lay there for a moment, their chests heaving, their skin slick with sweat.

Then, with a sudden jolt, y/n gripped her hips, lifting her off him. Her pussy clenched around his cock, trying to keep him inside, but he was too strong. He held her aloft, his semen mixing with her squirt as it fell from her in a steady stream, painting his abs in a mess of white and pink.

The sight was mesmerizing—his cock still thick and hard, her juices and his cum mixing and flowing. The scent of sex filled the room, a potent aphrodisiac that had them both panting with need. He watched the fluid cascade down his stomach, the intensity of his release mirrored in the tremble of her legs.

"Look," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Look at what you've done to me."

Karina's eyes followed the path of his gaze, watching in amazement as the evidence of their encounter fell from her body. She had never felt so used, so completely owned. The feeling was heady, intoxicating.

"So much," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "It's like a waterfall."

Y/n chuckled, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek. "You're incredible," he murmured. "So responsive, so eager to please."

Karina felt a strange mix of pride and humiliation at his words. She had never felt so exposed, so utterly used. But there was something about his praise that made her crave more. She leaned back, her legs trembling as she spread them wider, giving the camera a clear view of her gaping pussy. The muscles around her entrance fluttered, her juices and his cum still flowing out of her.

"Look how pretty it is," y/n said, his voice gentle. "So pink and swollen."

Karina's cheeks burned as she obeyed his command, her hand reaching down to spread her pussy lips apart. The camera zoomed in, capturing the intimate moment in high definition. She could feel the cool air on her sensitive skin, making her clit throb with the need for more.

"Fuck me," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I want to squirt so much that I can't even count. Make me your Nike slut, y/n."

Y/n's eyes darkened at her words, his cock twitching with renewed desire. He leaned in, his mouth capturing hers in a bruising kiss as he positioned himself between her legs. "As you wish," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n stood tall, his muscles rippling as he easily hoisted Karina's limp form onto his hips. Her legs wrapped around him, spread wide and inviting, as she leaned back against his chest. Her breasts bounced with every movement, her nipples hard from the cool air and the anticipation of what was to come. She looked up at him with a mix of awe and need, her eyes glazed over with lust.

The camera focused on them, capturing every intimate detail of their entwined bodies. Karina's pussy was still pulsing from her last orgasm, but she was already eager for more. Her hand reached back to stroke his cheek, her fingers trembling with desire. "Please," she begged, her voice a needy whine.

Y/n's smile was predatory, his eyes never leaving hers as he positioned his cock at her entrance. He slammed into her with a force that had her screaming, his hips grinding against her ass as he filled her completely. Her body tensed, the pain mixing with the lingering pleasure of her last climax. She leaned her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as he began to fuck her from behind, standing.

The camera zoomed in, capturing every grimace and gasp, every drop of sweat that beaded on their skin. Karina's pussy was stretched wide around his thickness, the juices and cum from their earlier encounter creating a slick, slippery mess. Her hips rolled back to meet his every thrust, her body moving in a dance that was both erotic and desperate.

He held her tight, his hands gripping her ass as he pounded into her. Karina's legs were trembling, her toes curling as she felt the beginnings of another orgasm. "Y/n," she moaned, her voice a breathy whisper. "It feels so good."

He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. "You're mine," he murmured. "Mine to fuck, mine to use."

With each thrust, Karina felt herself slipping further under his spell. The pain was intense, but it only made the pleasure sharper, the need more urgent. She could feel another squirt building, her pussy clenching around him. "I'm gonna..." she panted.

Y/n's grip tightened, his hips moving faster. "Do it," he ordered. "Cum for the camera, my Nike slut."

With a final, brutal thrust, y/n pulled out of her, his cock slick with their combined juices. Karina's pussy spasmed, the sudden emptiness making her whimper. She watched in the mirror as her squirt gushed out, a fountain of desire that seemed to have no end. It spurted out, drenching the floor beneath them, a testament to the intensity of their encounter.

"Again," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Make it rain for me."

Karina's body responded to his command, her muscles clenching as another powerful orgasm took over. Her pussy spasmed and convulsed, sending a fresh wave of cum spraying into the air. She felt the power of her own sexuality, the raw, unbridled need that was now a part of her. The camera caught every drop, the visual proof of her complete surrender to him.

Y/n's eyes were glued to the sight, his cock still rock-hard and eager for more. He stroked himself, his hand moving in time with her spurts. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "So perfect."

The room echoed with their gasps and moans, the sound of her squirt filling the space. Karina felt a sense of pride, a strange thrill at the thought of being his Nike slut, at the power he had over her body. Her legs were shaking, but she held herself up, her eyes never leaving his. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I need you inside me."

Y/n chuckled, the sound dark and sinful. "As you wish," he murmured, guiding her onto the bed once more. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock nudging at her entrance. "But remember," he said, his eyes holding hers captive. "You're mine to use."

With that, he plunged back into her, his movements punishing and relentless. Karina's body arched off the bed, her back bowing as she took every inch of him. Her pussy was tight and swollen, the repeated squirts making her more sensitive than ever before. Each thrust was a symphony of pleasure and pain, each stroke pushing her closer to the brink of sanity.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream. Y/n's hand found her clit, his thumb rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. "Cum for me," he ordered, his voice thick with desire. "Show me how much you want this."

Karina's body responded, her pussy clenching around him as she exploded into another orgasm. Her squirt spurted out, a fountain of pleasure that seemed to have no end. She felt him swell inside her, his grip on her hips tightening as he neared his own climax.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. "I'm gonna fill you up."

Her response was a keening moan, her body begging for it. She felt him pulse, his hot seed flooding her once again. It was a feeling she never wanted to end, the ultimate expression of their twisted relationship. As they lay there, panting and exhausted, Karina knew that she was his, utterly and completely.

The camera continued to record, the evidence of their encounter a stark reminder of the deal she had made. But in that moment, she didn't care about the Nike deal or the consequences. All that mattered was the feeling of his cum filling her, marking her as his.

"You're mine," he whispered into her ear, his voice a dark promise. "Forever and always."

Karina shivered, the words sending a bolt of pleasure through her. "Yours," she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut. "Yours to use."

He pulled out of her, his cock still hard and glistening with their combined juices. The loss was almost painful, leaving her feeling empty and used. But she knew it wasn't over yet. Y/n had more plans for her, more ways to claim her as his own.

Gently, he laid her down on the bed, his touch surprisingly tender after the roughness of their encounter. Karina's eyes drifted closed, her body boneless with exhaustion. She could feel the stickiness between her legs, the evidence of her squirts drying on her thighs. Y/n hovered over her, his eyes dark with hunger as he stroked her hair. "Rest," he murmured. "You've earned it."

As she slipped into a fitful sleep, y/n moved to the side of the bed, his eyes never leaving her. He picked up the camera, his gaze lingering on her naked form. With a flick of his wrist, he turned it off and set it aside, his attention now focused on the footage they had just recorded. His cock twitched at the thought of watching it, of seeing her take his cock so eagerly.

He moved to the desk, his muscles rippling as he sat down. His laptop screen flickered to life, the cold light of it casting shadows across the room. He inserted the memory card from the camera, his heart racing with excitement. The files loaded, and he began to sift through them, watching with a critical eye. Each moan, each squirt, every desperate plea was recorded in high definition.

The sound of running water filled the suite as y/n began to prepare the bathroom for their shared clean-up. The scent of bubbles and lavender filled the air, hinting at the luxurious escape they were about to indulge in. He adjusted the temperature, ensuring the water was just right—hot enough to soothe their overworked muscles but not so hot that it would scald their sensitive skin. With a contented sigh, he grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, the rich, velvety liquid promising to add a layer of decadence to their post-coital ritual.

Karina stirred from her daze, drawn by the sound of y/n's footsteps on the marble floor. Her eyes followed him as he moved gracefully across the room, his naked form still a vision of power and masculinity. His actions were tender, yet commanding, a stark contrast to the dominant beast she had just ridden. He filled the tub, the water shimmering under the soft lights, creating a serene oasis in the midst of their debauchery.

"Come," he beckoned, holding out a hand to help her up. "Let's clean up together."

With a weak smile, Karina took his hand, her legs wobbly and unsteady. She could feel the aftershocks of their passion, her body still quaking from the intensity of her squirts. Each step she took was a deliberate effort, her pussy leaking cum and juices with every movement. Her legs felt like jelly, and she was grateful for y/n's strong grip.

He led her to the bathroom, the soft glow of the candles casting a warm light on their naked forms. Karina could feel the stickiness between her thighs with each step, leaving a wet trail on the floor. The vulnerability was strangely thrilling, a stark reminder of the power dynamic they had just played out. Y/n's eyes never left her, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction.

Once in the bathroom, he helped her into the tub, her body sliding into the warm water with a sigh of relief. The bubbles caressed her skin, the heat of the water soothing the ache in her muscles. She watched as y/n stepped in behind her, his cock still semi-erect from their encounter. He sat down, pulling her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist.

"Rest," he murmured, his voice a gentle command. "Let the water wash away your inhibitions."

Karina leaned back against him, her head lolling onto his shoulder. She could feel his cock pressed against her back, still hard despite his earlier release. The feeling was both comforting and arousing, a constant reminder of the control he had over her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

Y/n's hands began to roam her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her breasts and the dip of her waist. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he helped her clean the mess from her thighs and the insides of her legs. Karina shivered, her skin sensitive from the abuse she had just endured. His touch was soothing, the tender care in his actions a stark contrast to the brutal passion of their encounter.

He reached for the wine, filling two glasses and handing one to her. "To us," he said, his voice low. "To our new partnership."

Karina took a sip, the rich flavor of the wine coating her mouth. She felt the warmth spread through her, the alcohol mixing with the endorphins already flooding her system. "To us," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n picked up the remote, the TV flickering to life with the recorded footage of their earlier escapade. The sight of her own body, writhing and begging for more, sent a fresh wave of arousal through Karina. She watched as he played the scene back, his hands never straying from her body. His fingers traced the path his cock had taken, teasing her clit and sliding into her still-drenched pussy.

Her eyes remained glued to the screen, her heart racing as she saw herself take him over and over again. Each moan, each gasp, each squirt was a stark reminder of her submission to him. Y/n chuckled, his hand moving to cup her breast. He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing against her nipple until it was hard and erect. Karina's breath hitched, her body responding instinctively to his touch.

On the screen, she watched as he pounded into her, his face a mask of concentration and desire. Her body mirrored the movements, her hips rocking against his hand. Y/n leaned in, his teeth grazing her ear. "You like watching yourself, don't you?" he murmured, his voice a dark promise.

Karina couldn't lie. She did. The sight of their bodies tangled together, the raw passion etched on her face, it was like watching someone else—someone who was free to embrace her darkest desires. She nodded, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

He leaned back, his hand still playing between her legs. "Good," he said, his eyes gleaming. "Because there's going to be a lot more of this."

The tension grew as the scene unfolded before them, their bodies reacting in sync with the images on the screen. Karina felt the beginnings of another orgasm, her pussy clenching around his fingers. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she panted.

Y/n's grip tightened, his movements becoming more urgent. "Cum for me," he whispered. "Cum while watching yourself."

With a scream that echoed through the suite, Karina did just that. Her body shuddered, her pussy clamping down on his hand as she squirted once again. The water around them grew murky with their combined release, the scent of sex and soap filling the air.

"Fuck me again, please," Karina begged, her voice a desperate whine. Her body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her last squirt, but she couldn't deny the insatiable hunger that consumed her.

Y/n chuckled, his eyes dark with amusement. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice teasing. "I think your pussy's had enough for one day."

But Karina was beyond the point of caring. Her need for him was all-consuming, a craving that she hadn't known was possible. "I don't care," she replied, her eyes never leaving his. "Just fuck me already."

With a smirk, y/n stood, the water sluicing off his body as he stepped out of the tub. He offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. Her legs were wobbly, but she took his cock in hand, guiding it back to her swollen, sore pussy. "Again," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of pain and anticipation.

He positioned her at the edge of the tub, her feet planted firmly on the floor. "If you insist," he said, his tone playful. He gripped her hips, his cock nudging at her entrance. "But if you can't handle it, don't say I didn't warn you."

Karina nodded, her eyes glazed with lust. "I can take it," she assured him, her voice a challenge. "I want it."

Y/n's smirk grew as he led her to the full-length mirror in the bathroom. He positioned her so that she could see every inch of herself, her flushed skin and swollen pussy on full display. "Look," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "Look how much you want this."

Karina's eyes widened as she stared at her own reflection, her hand moving to her mouth to stifle a whimper. Her body was a canvas of desire, her curves and angles highlighted by the soft lighting. He stepped behind her, his cock pressing against her ass as he reached around to stroke her clit. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

With a nod, she braced herself against the cool glass. Y/n's hands moved to her hips, his grip firm and unyielding. He pushed into her, filling her up with a single, powerful stroke. Her eyes rolled back in her head, a strangled cry escaping her lips. The mirror reflected the rawness of the moment, her pussy stretching to accommodate his thickness.

He fucked her mercilessly, his hips slamming into her with a rhythm that was both brutal and precise. Karina's legs began to tremble, her vision swimming with pleasure and pain. She could feel the orgasm building, a pressure that threatened to consume her. "Don't stop," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please, don't ever stop."

Y/n's eyes met hers in the mirror, his own gaze filled with a fierce determination. "You want it all?" he asked, his voice a challenge. "You want to be my Nike slut, my little toy to fuck until you can't think straight?"

Karina nodded, her eyes glazed with desire. "Yes," she moaned, her voice barely audible. "I want it all."

With that, y/n picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Karina's body moved with him, her hips rocking back to meet his every push. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a symphony of passion that echoed off the marble walls.

The slap of his hand against her ass cheeks was like a drumbeat, setting the rhythm for their carnally-charged dance. Each impact sent a jolt of pain through her, leaving a red handprint that stood out starkly against her pale skin. Karina watched in the mirror, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. Her breasts bobbed wildly with each thrust, her nipples hard and sensitive from the cool air.

Her pussy was a mess of desire, cum and juices overflowing with every punishing stroke. She couldn't help but moan, the sound of their skin slapping together a symphony of passion. Y/n's grip on her hips was like steel, his movements relentless as he claimed her body. The handprints grew darker, the pain sharper, but she didn't want him to stop. It was a strange, twisted pleasure that had her begging for more.

"Look at yourself," he growled, his voice a mix of pride and dominance. "Look how much of a slut you are for me."

Karina's eyes met her own in the mirror, her pupils blown wide with arousal. She could see the need etched on her face, the desperate hunger that consumed her. Her pussy was still spasming from her last squirt, but she was already eager for the next. "More," she begged, her voice a needy whine. "I need more."

Y/n chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "Greedy little thing," he murmured, his hand landing on her ass again. The sting was intense, the sound of the slap echoing through the suite. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You'll get more," he promised. "But first, let's see if you can handle this."

With that, he reached around, his hand finding her clit. He pinched it hard, the pain making her yelp. But it was the exact kind of pain she needed, the kind that made her body respond in ways she never thought possible. Karina's hips bucked, her pussy clenching around his cock as she rode the wave of pleasure-pain.

The room was a blur of motion, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Each slap of his hand against her ass sent her closer to the edge, each pinch of her clit a reminder of her submission. She could feel herself losing control, the intensity of their encounter threatening to consume her. But she didn't fight it—she embraced it, letting the sensations wash over her.

With a final, brutal thrust, y/n came again, his cum flooding her insides. Karina's body responded, her pussy clamping down on him as she squirted once more. The water in the tub turned murky, a testament to their shared release. They stared at each other in the mirror, both breathless and spent, the power dynamic of their relationship etched in their expressions.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Mine to fuck, mine to claim."

Karina nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Yours," she whispered, the word a declaration of her surrender. "Yours to use."

As y/n pulled out of her, Karina felt her knees give way. Her body was a wreck of pleasure, her mind a haze of sensations. She watched in a daze as he stepped out of the tub, his cock still hard and slick with their combined juices. He reached down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as he lifted her out of the tub. Her legs dangled, useless, as he carried her to the large, fluffy towel that awaited them.

With a gentle touch, y/n began to clean her up. He wiped the sweat and cum from her face, his eyes never leaving hers. Karina's gaze was hazy, her breaths coming in shallow pants. She felt his touch like a brand, a declaration of his ownership. Each stroke of the towel over her sensitive skin sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, her body already craving his touch again.

He knelt before her, his eyes on her swollen pussy. With a soft, almost reverent touch, he began to clean her up. His thumb brushed over her clit, and she jolted, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Shh," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers. "Let me take care of you."

Karina leaned against the wall, her legs still shaking. She watched as he bathed her, his movements slow and deliberate. Each stroke of the towel over her skin felt like a caress, a silent promise of more to come. His eyes never left hers, the intensity in them making her heart race.

With a sigh of contentment, y/n stood, wrapping the towel around her. He picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom. She felt like a ragdoll in his arms, boneless and utterly at his mercy. He laid her down on the soft bed, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat of her body.

"Rest," he murmured, his voice a gentle command. "I'll be right back."

Karina nodded, her eyes drifting shut. The exhaustion washed over her, a warm, comforting blanket that threatened to pull her under. But she knew she couldn't sleep—not yet. There was too much to process, too much that she hadn't felt before. She waited, her body humming with anticipation.

When he returned, he had a warm washcloth and a gentle touch. He cleaned her thoroughly, his eyes never leaving hers. Each wipe of the cloth was a silent promise of his care, his dominance. He took his time, making sure she was clean and comfortable before he lay down beside her.

With a sigh, she rolled into his arms, her head nestling into the crook of his neck. His scent surrounded her, the musky smell of sex mingling with his cologne. She felt safe, protected—like she belonged to him. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

When Karina awoke the next morning, her body felt like it had been through a marathon of pleasure and pain. Her limbs were boneless, her pussy still tender from the relentless pounding she had endured the night before. The sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the pristine white sheets of the Nike CEO's son's luxurious bed. She sat up with a start, the reality of her situation crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. The aespa group had a packed schedule, and she had just spent the night being used as y/n's personal sex toy. Panic set in—she had to get back to her life, to her responsibilities

But before she could even begin to formulate a plan of escape, y/n's voice was in her ear, soothing and commanding. "It's okay," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "I've already contacted your manager and the agency. They know you're indisposed."

Her heart raced as she processed his words. "What did you tell them?" she whispered, fear lacing her voice.

Y/n's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. "Just that you're taking a short break due to health issues," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "They know not to question it."

The news broke across the internet like wildfire. Fans everywhere were shocked and concerned for their beloved idol. "KARINA OF AESPA GOES ON HIATUS FOR HEALTH REASONS" the headlines read, as rumors swirled about what could be plaguing the seemingly invincible star. Little did they know, the truth was far more scandalous than any illness.

The K-pop community was ablaze with speculation. Some thought it was a clever marketing ploy, while others feared the worst. Yet, amidst the chaos, not a single whisper of the truth slipped through the cracks. Karina's secret remained firmly in the grasp of the Nike CEO's son and her own tight-lipped resolve. Her image remained unblemished, a façade that she knew was only a matter of time before it shattered.

But for now, she was his. His to use and to pleasure, his to control. The thought sent a thrill through her that was both terrifying and exhilarating. As the outside world worried and wondered, Karina lay in his arms, her body still buzzing from the night's activities. She knew she couldn't stay here forever, but for now, she would embrace this twisted reality.

He traced a finger down her spine, his touch sending a shiver through her. "Relax," he murmured. "You're mine now. Your health, your career—it's all in my hands."

Karina nodded, swallowing hard. The weight of her decision was heavy on her shoulders, but she knew there was no going back. Her body was his playground, and she was the eager participant. The thought made her stomach flip with a mix of fear and excitement.

In the days that followed, Karina's world grew smaller. The outside world continued to spin without her, the whispers of her absence growing louder with each passing day. Yet, within the walls of y/n's apartment, she found a strange kind of refuge. Her body was pushed to new limits, her boundaries stretched until she could feel them snapping.

The pain and pleasure became a twisted symphony, each session with him more intense than the last. The cameras rolled, capturing every moment of her degradation and ecstasy. But with each stroke of his cock, each slap of his hand, she found a strange solace in her submission.

Y/n was true to his word, though. He made sure she was pampered and well taken care of when they weren't filming. He fed her, bathed her, and even took the time to listen to her thoughts—his gentle touch a stark contrast to the brutal way he used her body.

And when she was ready, he would take her again. Each time, the pain grew less, the pleasure more intense. She became addicted to the power he wielded over her, the way he could make her body respond to his every whim. The control was intoxicating, a heady mix of fear and desire that she never wanted to end.

But as the days turned into weeks, Karina began to feel the strain of her double life. The constant filming and the need to perform took a toll on her mental and physical well-being. Yet, she knew that she couldn't escape—not yet. The money was too good, and the threat of exposure too real.

So she continued, living in the shadows of her former life. Her days filled with rehearsals and photo shoots, her nights with y/n's demands. It was a life of duality, one that she was becoming disturbingly accustomed to. And as the days grew into weeks, she began to wonder if she would ever find a way out of this twisted fairy tale.

[kissmewakemeup]

[kissmewakemeup]

Empty gym, had to do it 🥹

[kissmewakemeup]

Empty gym, had to do it 🥹

[kissmewakemeup]

Private Party ft Isa x 2 male character

Words : 3k

Tags : anal, DP, Creampie

The moon hovered low in the sky, casting a pale glow over the quiet suburban street. Isa, her eyes gleaming with excitement, checked the time on her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. The anticipation was palpable, her heart racing like it was about to break free from her chest. She knew tonight would be different, a stark departure from the mundane routine she'd grown so accustomed to.

Her house was a beacon in the darkness, lights flickering through the windows and the bass from the speakers thumping in time with her pulse. The sound of laughter and music grew louder as she approached, the warm embrace of the party beckoning her from within. She took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the doorknob, feeling the vibrations of the bass line resonating through the cold metal. With a quick twist, she stepped into the living room, and the energy of the party washed over her like a wave.

Her two best friends, Mike and Alex, had transformed her place into a dance floor, their bodies moving in rhythm with the pulsating electronic beats. The room smelled of a mix of cologne and the faint scent of marijuana, which lingered in the air like a secret promise of a wild night ahead. The walls, once adorned with family photos and trinkets from her travels, were now plastered with streamers and balloons that bobbed in time with the music. The couches had been shoved aside to make room for their energetic dance moves, and a table in the corner was laden with drinks and snacks, a nod to their intention of staying in all night.

Isa's eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene. Mike, tall and broad-shouldered, had a beer in hand, his eyes glinting with mischief as he caught her gaze. Alex, lean and lithe, danced closer to her, a playful smile stretching across his face. Both men were dressed casually, but the way they moved suggested a hint of something more primal, something that made her stomach flutter. The air was charged with a tension she couldn't quite name, an undercurrent of excitement that was as intoxicating as the drinks that flowed freely.

The music grew louder as the night grew older, the lights dimmer, and the energy more intense. Isa felt a hand slip around her waist, pulling her into the dance. It was Mike, his touch sending a jolt through her body. As they moved together, she could feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart syncing with the music and her own. Alex joined them, their bodies entwined in a dance that was somehow both innocent and deeply intimate.

The party raged on, the hours slipping away like sand through an hourglass. The three friends laughed, drank, and danced until their clothes clung to them with sweat. Isa, feeling bold and uninhibited, decided to make a spontaneous suggestion. "You guys want to hit the hot tub?" she shouted over the din, her voice a siren's call. Without missing a beat, Mike and Alex nodded eagerly, their eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and something else she couldn't quite place.

The three of them stumbled out into the cool night air, the music fading behind them. The hot tub steamed invitingly, the water shimmering in the moonlight. They didn't bother with their bathing suits, peeling their clothes off and tossing them aside as if shedding their inhibitions along with them. The cool water washed over her, sending goosebumps skittering across her flesh, as she settled into the bubbling embrace.

Mike and Alex joined her, the water sloshing around their hips as they sank in. The atmosphere had shifted, the playful banter now replaced with a heavy silence that seemed to hang in the air like a thick fog. Isa felt the warmth of their bodies pressing against hers, and she knew that the night was about to take a turn she never could have anticipated.

The heat from the hot tub was nothing compared to the heat building within her, a slow burn that spread through her veins like liquid fire. She felt a hand brush against her thigh, and she looked up to find Mike's eyes locked on hers, his hand lingering. The air grew thick with unspoken desires, and she knew that the boundaries of friendship were about to be tested.

Alex's fingers traced a line up her arm, his touch feather-light but leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His gaze was intense, a silent question that sent a shiver down her spine. Isa's breath hitched as Mike's hand slid up her thigh, his thumb circling the sensitive skin just beneath the water's surface. She could feel herself growing wet, the water around her growing warmer as her body responded to their touches.

Her moans grew louder, echoing through the night as their hands explored her body with an urgency that seemed to match the rhythm of the music still pulsing in the house. Alex's hand moved to cup her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple, sending waves of pleasure through her. Mike leaned in, his breath hot against her neck, whispering sweet nothings that turned into a symphony of desire in her ears.

The tension was unbearable, the electricity between them crackling like a live wire. Isa's eyes fluttered closed as she felt Mike's other hand slip between her legs, his fingers teasing her clit with a gentle touch that made her entire body quiver. Alex's mouth found hers, their kiss deepening as Mike's fingers worked their magic, sending her spiraling closer to the edge.

Their bodies were slick with water and desire as they moved together in a silent symphony of passion, the only sound the steady beat of the music and the occasional moan that escaped her lips. Isa had never felt so alive, so wanted, so utterly consumed by two people at once. The thought of what was happening was almost too much to process, but she didn't want it to stop.

Her breaths grew shorter, her moans louder, as Mike's hand continued to work its magic. She could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building within her, a crescendo that threatened to shatter the fragile balance of their friendship. But she didn't care. All she knew was the feeling of their hands on her, the heat of their bodies, and the desperate need for more.

Alex broke their kiss, his eyes dark with lust as he moved to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just hard enough to make her gasp. His hand joined Mike's between her legs, and together, they brought her to the brink, their movements synchronized like they'd been doing this for years. And as she came, her body convulsing in pleasure, she knew that this was just the beginning of a night she would never forget.

"Oh, fuck!" she screamed, the sound echoing off the walls of the small, enclosed space. Her body spasmed as she felt the warmth of her release gush out, the water around her growing murky with her juices. The sensation was so intense, so overwhelming, that she could hardly believe it was happening. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut, and let the wave of pleasure wash over her.

Mike and Alex's touch grew more urgent, their breaths ragged in her ears as they felt her climax ripple through her. They didn't stop, though, pushing her even further until she was panting and begging for mercy. "Oh god, oh god," she chanted, her voice hoarse from screaming. She could feel their arousal, their cocks hard and insistent against her thighs.

The sensation grew, building up inside her like a storm waiting to break. And then, without warning, she was there again. Her body tightened around their fingers, and a jet of warm liquid shot out of her, mixing with the hot tub water in a display that was as shocking as it was erotic. She had never squirted before, and the feeling was like nothing she had ever experienced.

Their eyes widened, and for a moment, she thought they would pull away, horrified by what she had done. But instead, they shared a knowing smile, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Again," Alex murmured, his voice low and demanding, and Mike nodded in agreement.

They didn't relent, their fingers moving in a dance that was both exquisite torture and pure bliss. Every stroke brought her closer to the edge, and every time she thought she couldn't possibly go over again, she was proven wrong. Her body was their plaything, and she was loving every second of it.

Isa's world narrowed down to the feel of their hands on her, the sound of the water splashing against the sides of the hot tub, and the desperate sounds of her own pleasure. She was lost in the moment, the only thing that mattered the exquisite feeling of their touch. And when she came again, it was with a force that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.

Their hands didn't stop moving, though, pushing her to heights she didn't know existed. She squirted again, the force of her orgasm so intense that she felt like she was floating. And then, finally, as the aftershocks began to subside, they withdrew their fingers, their eyes never leaving hers. The silence was deafening, the only sound the steady thump of their hearts echoing in the night air.

They stared at each other for a moment, the tension so thick it was almost tangible. And then, as if they had reached an unspoken agreement, Mike leaned in and kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers in a kiss that was filled with passion and possession. Alex's hand found the back of her neck, his grip firm as he deepened the kiss, their three bodies melding together in a tangle of limbs and desire.

Isa felt a gentle nudge at her pussy, and she opened her eyes to find Mike's hard cock pressing against her, the head glistening with pre-cum. He was looking at her with a hunger that made her knees weak, and she knew that she wanted this, wanted them, more than anything. She spread her legs, inviting him in, and he didn't hesitate. His cock slid into her with ease, filling her up in a way that made her moan into Alex's mouth.

Alex took the cue, positioning himself in front of her face, his own cock standing proud and demanding. Without breaking the kiss, she reached out and took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting the salty tang of his arousal. Mike began to move, his strokes deep and rhythmic, setting a pace that had her body responding in kind. She could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building within her, a fire that threatened to consume her whole.

Their movements grew more frantic, their breaths mingling with the steam that rose from the water. Mike's grip tightened on her hips, holding her in place as he thrust into her, the water sloshing around them with each movement. Alex's cock grew even harder in her mouth, his hips bucking as he approached his own climax. She could feel the tension in their bodies, the desperation in their touch, and it only served to fuel her own desire.

Isa's moans grew louder around Alex's cock, vibrating against him in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head. Mike's strokes grew faster, more urgent, as he felt her pussy tighten around him. And just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, just when she was sure she would shatter into a million pieces, she felt Alex's cock pulse in her mouth, his release hot and salty down her throat.

The sensation sent her over the edge, her own orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She screamed around Alex's cock, her body convulsing as Mike pounded into her, his own climax following close behind. The hot tub was now a cauldron of passion, their combined juices mixing with the water as they rode out the storm of pleasure together.

When the last tremors had passed, they all leaned back, panting and sated. The air was thick with the scent of sex, their bodies glistening in the moonlight. Isa felt a sense of euphoria, her mind racing with the implications of what had just happened. But before she could say a word, Mike spoke up.

"On your feet, gorgeous," he said, his voice gruff with need. She looked at him, a question in her eyes, but he only offered his hand, a knowing smile playing on his lips. With a gentle tug, he helped her stand, the water cascading off her body like a waterfall, revealing the flushed, sensitive flesh beneath.

Alex, still standing, stepped closer, his cock now fully erect and pointing straight at her. He took her face in his hands, tilting her head back to look into her eyes. "It's my turn," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. He positioned himself in front of her, the tip of his cock brushing against her swollen pussy. "But first, I want to taste you."

With that, he bent down, his mouth finding her clit, his tongue flicking and teasing as Mike held her upright from behind. Isa gasped as Alex's mouth worked her, her legs wobbly with the intensity of the sensations. Mike's hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts and squeezing her ass as he held her in place. The feeling of Alex's mouth on her, his tongue delving into her wetness, was almost too much to handle.

And then, without warning, Alex stood, his cock sliding into her, filling her up just as Mike had done moments before. He gripped her hips, his movements strong and demanding as he began to fuck her in the standing position. She leaned back into Mike, her body supported by his firm chest, her arms draped over his shoulders. Mike's hands slid to her breasts, his thumbs flicking her nipples, adding to the symphony of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck, it's so good," she managed to gasp out, her words punctuated by the slap of skin on skin. Mike's grip tightened, his own arousal evident in his hardened cock pressing against her back. "So...so good," she repeated, her voice a whimper of need.

Alex paused for a moment, looking up at her with a smug smile, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "You like that, don't you?"

Isa nodded, unable to form coherent words as her body was once again wracked with pleasure. "Yes," she breathed, her voice a trembling whisper. "It's so good."

Mike's hand slipped from her thigh to her ass, his fingers gently spreading her cheeks apart. He took the tip of his cock and teased her tight hole, the sensation so foreign yet so tantalizing. "Just relax, baby," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to the nerves that had suddenly flared up. "You're going to love this."

Her breath hitched as she felt the head of his cock pressing against her anus, the pressure building as he pushed in just a little. "Relax," he repeated, his voice firm but gentle. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to ease into the sensation. And then, with a pop, the head was in, and she couldn't help but gasp.

The initial shock of the intrusion was quickly replaced by a warm, full feeling that made her clench around him. Alex didn't miss a beat, his cock still buried deep within her pussy, his thrusts now even more deliberate, as if he were trying to push her even closer to the edge of ecstasy. Mike began to move, his strokes shallow at first, giving her time to adjust to the sensation.

Her breath grew ragged as he picked up the pace, the dual penetration sending shockwaves through her body. She could feel the stretch as he filled her up, the friction against her g-spot driving her wild. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before, a blend of pleasure and pain that was so intense it was almost overwhelming.

Isa's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt Mike's hand slide around to her front, his thumb finding her clit again. The pressure was unbearable, the sensations too much to handle, and she knew she was going to come again. Her body tensed, her muscles clenching around both of their cocks as the orgasm built within her, threatening to explode.

And then it hit, a white-hot wave that crashed over her, sending her spiraling into a vortex of pleasure so intense she couldn't even scream. Her pussy spasmed around Alex's cock, her ass tightening around Mike's, the two of them groaning in unison as they felt her climax ripple through her.

Mike's thrusts grew more forceful, the head of his cock sliding in and out of her ass with ease now, the lubrication of her arousal making every movement slick and delicious. "I'm going to cum," she moaned, her voice barely recognizable. "Inside me, please," she begged, her need for them to fill her up even more urgent than before.

They didn't disappoint. Mike's strokes grew erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants as he fucked her ass with everything he had. Alex's cock swelled even more, and she could feel him getting ready to explode. "Now," she whispered, her eyes squeezed shut, her body taut as a bowstring.

With a roar, Mike came, his hot seed spurting into her ass as he buried himself deep within her. The feeling of his release triggered another orgasm within her, her pussy clamping down around Alex's cock like a vice. And then Alex was coming too, his own release filling her up, their bodies moving in tandem as they reached the pinnacle of pleasure.

They held onto each other, their breaths mingling in the steamy night air, their hearts pounding in a wild symphony. The water around them was warm and frothy, a testament to their passion. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their panting and the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the hot tub.

When they finally pulled away, the reality of what had just happened began to settle over them. Their friendship had crossed a line, and there was no going back. But as they looked into each other's eyes, the only thing Isa felt was a deep, unbridled satisfaction. This was what she had craved, what she had needed, and she had no regrets.

The night was far from over, and the party had only just begun. There were more drinks to be had, more music to dance to, and more boundaries to be pushed. But for now, all she could think about was the feeling of their bodies entwined, the way they had made her feel so alive and wanted. It was as if the air around them had changed, charged with a new and thrilling energy.

They stepped out of the hot tub, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of their passion. Mike handed her a towel, his eyes never leaving hers as he wrapped it around her, careful not to break the connection between them. Alex followed suit, his eyes lingering on her wet, naked form, his desire still evident. They walked back into the house, their bodies leaving wet footprints on the floor, the music once again filling the air.

The party had moved into the living room, their friends blissfully unaware of the intimate scene that had just unfolded. Isa felt a thrill run down her spine at the thought of them watching her, knowing what had happened just moments before. She sat down on the couch, her legs shaking slightly, and took a sip of the cold drink Mike handed her. It was like nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

Their friends continued to dance and laugh, oblivious to the new dynamics that had formed between the three of them. But Isa couldn't help but feel like they were all just playing a game, acting out their roles as if nothing had changed. Mike sat down next to her, his arm draped casually across her shoulder, his hand idly playing with her hair. Alex took the spot on her other side, his leg pressing against hers, the heat from his body warming her even more.

The tension was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to boil over again. And Isa knew it would. It was inevitable. The night had just begun, and she was ready for whatever came next. As they sipped their drinks and chatted with their friends, their eyes would occasionally meet, and she would feel a jolt of electricity that made her want to drag them both back into the hot tub, or maybe somewhere more private.

As the hours ticked by, the party began to wind down, the music growing softer and the lights dimmer. One by one, their friends said their goodbyes, leaving the three of them alone in the house that now felt so much smaller, so much more intimate. The air was thick with the scent of sex and desire, and Isa felt it pulsing through her veins like a drug.

They stood there, looking at each other, the silence speaking louder than any words could. And then, with a mischievous smirk, Mike leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Ready for round two?" She couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. "Always," she murmured, her voice low and filled with promise.

Without another word, they turned and headed for her bedroom, the anticipation of what was to come making her heart race. As they stepped over the threshold, the door closing behind them, she knew that the night was going to be one she would remember forever. The games had only just begun, and she was eager to play.

[kissmewakemeup]

excited to come back to Tumblr after the ban hammer, please reblog to help me find my old moots 🫶 (i'll send you some titties in return 🤪)

to those who dont know me Im just a girl who likes to be a submissive bratt and tease random strangers. And show some titties for attention 🤪 Im sure you'll love me. Dms and asks open 🍒🙂‍↔️

Ko-fi 🙂‍↔️🍒

[kissmewakemeup]

SEXY KPOP ARMPITS - KARINA (Aespa)

[kissmewakemeup]

The milker Eunbi

[kissmewakemeup]

Gift for us

[kissmewakemeup]

Waterbombed

So a bit of lore. @cosmic-conqueror-diabelos loves Eunbi. Eunbi is his singular favorite idol in all of K-pop and every time he writes he’s forcing himself not to root back to her. Not today though. He saw these pictures and 45 minutes later he had almost half of this done. So we hope you enjoy this and you’ll probably be seeing more Eunbi fics as we go.. peace out

Happy 4th of July may you all have a cool weekend after this very hot waterbomb

It all started on April 25th, 2022.

You were deep into a Monster Hunter Wilds session with your longtime friend Sakura, her laid-back boyfriend Toji, and someone new—Eunbi, Sakura’s friend from her dance crew.

“Unnie, are you having fun?” Sakura asked cheerfully as the four of you tag-teamed a particularly slippery Mizutsune. The fight had been long, but Eunbi was chasing its armor set for what she described as “aesthetic purposes.” In her words, it was “so pretty it hurts.”

“Yeah, Sakura-yah. I love it. And thanks to you guys, I’m finally getting the hang of it.” You grinned, watching your avatar tumble through the Mizutsune’s water blasts.

You hadn’t met Eunbi before tonight, but there was something instantly warm and charming about her. The way she spoke—soft, thoughtful, punctuated with unexpected laughter—made you feel like you’d known her longer than just a few hunts. When you tried to picture her, your brain filled in the blanks with soft edges and big eyes—just… cute.

After a few more runs, Mizutsune finally dropped the last part Eunbi needed. She let out a giddy little squeal as her hunter jogged toward Emma the blacksmith. You smiled, just listening to her hum with excitement through your headset.

About five minutes later, Eunbi returned to the lobby wearing the full Mizutsune set—sleek, iridescent, and very, very pink.

“Whoa, Eunbi, you look amazing,” Sakura said.

“Total fashion kill,” Toji added with his usual dry tone.

You chimed in with a grin, “Honestly? Worth the grind. You look great.”

Eunbi giggled. “Thank you all so much. Seriously, if it weren’t for you guys, I’d still be drowning in bubbles.”

You laughed along with them, but as the clock ticked past midnight, you rubbed your eyes and leaned back in your chair. “Alright, I should call it here. I’ve got actual grown-up stuff to do tomorrow.”

“Wait, Benimaru,” Eunbi said just as you were about to log off. You paused.

“I know I can’t invite Sakura and Toji—Sakura’s got rehearsal for the concert—but… as a thank-you for helping me tonight, I wanted to invite you to Waterbomb.”

You blinked. “Wait… seriously?”

Eunbi’s voice was playful. “Mhm. You in?”

“Yeah… okay.” You weren’t quite sure what you were agreeing to. The name Waterbomb rang a bell, but not loud enough to shake anything loose. You barely had time to ask before Eunbi added:

“Let me get your Instagram.” She sent a follow request a second later and DM’d you the full event details.

You tapped over to her profile, expecting a few selfies and maybe the occasional food post. Instead, you scrolled down and froze.

Clips from previous Waterbomb festivals filled your screen—Eunbi on stage in a soaked crop top, dancing like a tidal wave. Her moves were magnetic, sensual, commanding—and suddenly, your brain made the connection. That Eunbi. The performer. Sakura’s ex leader in izone

Your mouth went dry.

Something primal stirred at the back of your mind, like an alarm clock you hadn’t meant to set.

She had invited you.

The weeks before Waterbomb pass in a rhythm that feels easy. Familiar.

Each night, you and Eunbi dive into Monster Hunter hunts together—sometimes just the two of you, sometimes with Toji or Sakura dropping in between rehearsals. You start recognizing the way she fights: quick, clever, a little chaotic. You don’t say it out loud, but you love watching her win.

After each session, she sends you outfit options. Just little photos, usually mirror selfies or snapshots against her bedroom wall. At first, they’re tame—an oversized hoodie here, a floaty sundress there. She always adds a caption.

“Too boring?”

“Be honest, this makes me look like a grandma right?”

“Cute or just…eh?”

You reply dutifully—sometimes with jokes, sometimes with emojis, and sometimes with a well-placed “Ma’am 😳.” She eats it up.

But the outfits start getting bolder. Skin shows in different places. A crop here, a side slit there. You know the game she’s playing, and even though you’re trying to keep it casual, your reactions start slipping through.

And then she sends that outfit.

A red plaid crop top. A white bra peeking just beneath. Faded denim shorts riding high on her hips.

You stare at your phone for a solid ten seconds, maybe more. You blink, like maybe you imagined it. You did not.

You Facetime her without thinking. She picks up immediately, already grinning.

“So?” she asks, voice sweet as sugar. “How do I look?”

She knows what she’s done. You can see it in her eyes, in the slight tilt of her head, in how she’s trying not to laugh.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to sound composed. You’re not.

“Look… I’m gonna be honest,” you say. “I have nothing polite to say about that outfit.”

You pause, watching her expression shift slightly—just enough for the tension to crack a little.

“…But I promise you—every single thing I have to say is positive.”

Her giggle is quiet but victorious. She bites her lip, smiling like she just won a bet.

And in that moment, you realize two things:

1. You are absolutely not ready for Waterbomb.

2. She’s known that from the start.

A few days after the Facetime call, Eunbi texts you mid-afternoon.

Eunbi:

“You busy this evening? 👀”

You weren’t. Not really. Just pretending to work, letting your thoughts drift toward Waterbomb more often than you’d admit.

You:

“Depends. Are we grinding more hunts or what?”

Eunbi:

“Mmm… not quite. I’ve got rehearsal for the show. Figured you might wanna see how the sausage gets made 😏”

Your heart skips. You hesitate, then type.

You:

“Like, backstage?”

Eunbi:

“More like VIP treatment. Just me, my dancers, and… you 😇”

“I promise to behave. Ish.”

That “ish” does more damage than it should.

⸻

You show up at the rehearsal studio a few hours later. It’s tucked into a side street downtown, barely marked. You find the room by the music leaking through the door—bass-heavy, slick with rhythm, like something dangerous dressed up as fun.

She meets you at the entrance, hair up, skin glowing from sweat and practice. She’s in loose joggers and a tiny sports bra—practical, sure, but something about the way she wears it makes it feel… intentional.

“Benimaru~” she greets, drawing your name out like honey. “You really came.”

“Yeah,” you say, hands in your pockets, trying not to stare. “Would’ve been rude not to.”

She smiles. “Mmm. Well, don’t feel too flattered. I mostly needed a pair of eyes to watch and tell me if I still look hot after sweating through three routines.”

You raise a brow. “You could’ve just sent a selfie.”

She laughs and waves you in. “That wouldn’t have the same effect.”

⸻

The rehearsal is sharp and fast. The choreography is intense—hips, turns, water cannons (yes, real ones), and so much skin. Eunbi commands the space, every movement deliberate, every glance calculated. And every time her eyes flick to you mid-routine, something in your chest tightens.

She’s putting on a show—but only for one person.

⸻

After the final run-through, the other dancers head out, leaving towels and water bottles in their wake. Eunbi walks over to where you’re sitting, dabbing sweat from her collarbone with a towel.

“So…” she says, handing you a bottle of water. “How’d I do?”

“You’re dangerous,” you mutter, too honest.

She tilts her head, eyes glittering. “Mmm. That’s not a no.”

She sits next to you—close. Too close. Her thigh brushes yours, warm and bare. She leans in just slightly, enough for you to catch the scent of her shampoo, faint vanilla and something floral.

“Be honest,” she whispers. “Do you think I’ll kill them at Waterbomb… or do I need to practice that body roll again?”

You glance at her. She’s smiling, but beneath it is a question. A provocation.

You exhale slowly, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“I think,” you say carefully, “you already know exactly what you’re doing.”

She doesn’t deny it.

She just leans back on her hands, stretches slowly, and says, “Then you better be there when I do it for real.”

It’s a few days before Waterbomb when Eunbi texts you again, this time with something simple.

Eunbi:

“Wanna hang? No rehearsal. No monsters. Just vibes. 👻”

You agree without overthinking it. Which, at this point, is a lie. You’ve been overthinking her since that night at the studio.

⸻

You end up walking through a quiet part of the city together—coffee in hand, the sun going down, summer heat still clinging to the concrete. Eunbi’s wearing an off-shoulder top and loose jeans, but it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing anymore. You’ve seen her sweaty, laughing, mid-performance, and something in your brain rewired after that.

She’s different now. Or maybe you are.

You both talk about nothing for a while. Music. Games. Some idol drama she insists you have to watch. You call her out on her taste. She calls you uncultured. It’s easy. Almost too easy.

At some point, you end up on a bench overlooking the Han River, watching the city shimmer across the water.

She leans back, stretching her arms with a sigh. “You know…” she starts, glancing sideways at you, “if we were in a drama, this would totally be the part where the lead couple starts realizing they like each other.”

You smile, trying to ignore the skip in your heartbeat. “Are you saying this feels like a date?”

Eunbi’s gaze flicks to yours—steady, direct, teasing—but softer than usual.

“I mean… it does feel like one, doesn’t it?” she says. Then, after a beat, “Do you want it to be a date?”

You swallow, pulse suddenly too loud in your ears. You don’t look away.

“…Do you want this to be a date?”

That’s when she says it.

“Yes.”

Just that. No coyness. No second-guessing. She holds your gaze with a clarity that strips away every layer of playfulness between you.

And suddenly, the air around you changes. Thickens.

The casual distance between your bodies feels like an open invitation. Your leg pressed lightly against hers now feels electric. Her hand, resting on the bench close to yours, feels impossibly far and far too close all at once.

She doesn’t move. Neither do you.

But everything has shifted.

The space between you isn’t filled with teasing anymore. It’s full of things unsaid—wants, thoughts, urges that have been building up over weeks of games and glances and barely-there touches.

Eunbi licks her lips once, eyes dropping to your mouth and back again. “You gonna say something, or just keep staring at me like that?”

You don’t answer.

You just lean in slightly, just enough to make her breath hitch.

“I’m thinking,” you murmur.

“Thinking what?”

“If I kiss you now… we’re not gonna make it to Waterbomb without breaking a few rules.”

She smiles again—but it’s slower, darker. Like she’s just waiting for you to stop thinking.

And maybe you are.

The walk back to your place is quiet—charged. Neither of you says much, and you don’t have to. Every brush of her shoulder against yours feels deliberate. Every glance exchanged is heavier than the last.

You unlock the door and step inside, motioning for her to follow. She does without hesitation, slipping off her shoes like she’s been here before. Like she belongs here.

“I like your place,” Eunbi says, looking around, then tossing her bag on the couch like it’s already hers. “Cozy.”

“You’re just saying that because I don’t have gamer chairs and LED strips.”

She laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You’re still standing by the door when she walks back over to you—closer than necessary. Her fingers hook lightly into your belt loops as she tilts her head up.

“You were staring at me the whole walk back,” she says softly.

“I was trying not to jump you in public,” you reply, equally soft.

Her eyes spark with something wicked.

“Good.”

You don’t remember leaning in. One second you’re standing there, and the next your mouth is on hers—hot, hungry, and overdue. She kisses you back with that same controlled intensity she dances with—fluid, teasing, just a little bit dangerous.

You press her against the wall, hands finding her waist, her lower back, her hips. She lets you, humming into your mouth like this is exactly what she expected. Your breath is ragged when she breaks the kiss, only to pull you toward the couch, pulling you down on top of her in one smooth move.

Your hands roam without hesitation now—up her ribs, across her bare stomach, fingertips teasing the edge of her bra under that off-shoulder top. She gasps, arching into your touch, lips finding your neck.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” you whisper.

She laughs—low and breathy. “That’s the idea.”

But then, just as your hand starts to slide under her top, she grabs your wrist—firm, but not cold.

You look down at her, confused, lips parted, heartbeat crashing in your ears.

Eunbi smirks up at you, flushed and glowing, eyes glittering with mischief.

“If you’re a good boy,” she purrs, “I’ll show you so much more at Waterbomb.”

You blink, stunned.

She leans up, kisses your jaw, then slips out from under you with ridiculous ease, like she hasn’t just set your entire nervous system on fire.

“You’re evil,” you mutter, breathless.

She pulls her top back into place, grinning over her shoulder as she heads for the door.

“Discipline, Benimaru. Delayed gratification.” She winks. “Just imagine what I’m saving for the encore.”

Then she’s gone—leaving behind her scent, her warmth, and your very, very unresolved desire.

You stare at the door for a long moment, exhale hard, and fall back on the couch.

Waterbomb cannot come soon enough.

Waterbomb hit you like a fever.

The day of the festival blurred by in a haze of sun, music, and adrenaline—but mostly Eunbi.

You’d been texting back and forth since morning, her messages a constant stream of flirtation and provocation. Voice notes dripping with innuendo. Selfies that left too little to the imagination. Winks and teasing emojis that felt like fingertips brushing your skin.

By the time the sun began to dip behind the stage scaffolding, you were already breathless—disoriented in the best and worst way. Her energy had worked its way under your skin and into your bloodstream, leaving you drunk on anticipation.

And then the murmurs started.

“Eunbi’s up next.”

“She’s gonna kill it—she always kills it.”

“She’s basically the queen of Waterbomb.”

“Sexy legend, are you kidding me?”

You already knew all of it was true—but hearing it out loud made it feel real. Tangible. Like the whole city was about to see what you’d seen brewing behind her glances and half-smiles.

And then the lights cut. The bass dropped. The crowd screamed.

She stepped onto the stage like she owned the world.

Eunbi was dazzling. Drenched in spotlight and water spray, she moved with the confidence of someone who knew every eye was on her—and who only cared about one.

Yours.

Her gaze found you almost immediately—sultry, knowing, locked in. And then she smiled.

That slow, devastating smile that said: I told you I’d show you more.

The music pulsed around her as she danced, hips rolling in a hypnotic rhythm that felt less like choreography and more like a spell. Her body undulated with practiced seduction, but the way she looked at you? That was personal. Intimate. Like she was unwrapping you, layer by layer, with every beat.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away if you tried.

She moved through her set like a storm: bouncing, spinning, flipping her hair, letting the water soak through her barely-there outfit as the crowd roared in appreciation. But for you, it was background noise. All you saw was her. All you felt was her.

Each verse, each motion, each glance offstage in your direction wound you tighter. By the time her final song ended in a flash of lights and a roar of screams, you were completely undone.

Soaked in sweat. Heart racing. Breath stolen.

Somehow both spent and starving.

And when she blew a kiss to the crowd—no, to you—you knew exactly what the rest of the night was leading to.

You weren’t just watching the show anymore.

You were part of the encore.

You knew it the second your phone buzzed.

Eunbi:

“Come to Relax Bar. VIP section. 💋”

No instructions. No emojis to soften the blow—just a location and the implicit promise of more.

You checked your festival map with shaking fingers and started walking, weaving through crowds still high off the set she had just torched. Music still echoed across the grounds, but your head was full of her—her body, her stare, her mouth wrapped around every lyric like it was meant for you.

By the time you reached the Relax Bar, your heart was pounding all over again.

You didn’t have to wait.

One of Eunbi’s crew was already there, clocking you instantly with a knowing smile. “You’re Benimaru, yeah? She’s expecting you.”

No security check. No waitlist. Just a silent escort past the velvet ropes into a world that smelled of expensive liquor, body spray, and something wild.

Then you saw her.

Eunbi in her element.

She was lounging on a leather couch in the VIP lounge like it was a throne. Legs crossed, drink in hand, hair still damp from the performance, clinging to her shoulders. The red white and blue colors of her outfit had been traded out for something darker now—sleek black with glints of shimmer, clinging to her curves like the spotlight still hadn’t let her go.

She looked like temptation incarnate. And she was staring right at you.

Her smirk bloomed the moment your eyes met. “Well, well. Look who survived.”

You tried to speak, but your mouth had forgotten how. Eventually, you managed:

“You killed me… and somehow brought me back to life.”

She laughed, deep and rich, and motioned for you to sit beside her. As you did, her eyes slowly traced over you—neck to waist and back up again—with absolutely no rush.

“You look like you’ve been through something,” she teased, voice low and honey-slicked.

“I have,” you replied. “You.”

Eunbi tilted her head, clearly enjoying every bit of your wrecked state. She leaned in close—so close you could feel the heat of her breath against your cheek—and whispered, “And you still want more?”

You didn’t answer with words. You didn’t need to. The way your body leaned toward hers, the way your hands gripped your knees to keep from reaching for her—it said everything.

She set her drink down slowly, then slid her hand up your thigh with deliberate, torturous ease.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured. “Come back to my place.”

You swallowed hard.

She smiled—sultry, confident, absolutely not innocent. “Don’t worry,” she added, leaning in so her lips just brushed your ear, “I don’t bite… unless you ask.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You could only nod as you stood, following her out of the lounge, out of the festival, and into the night like you’d been summoned.

And maybe you had.

You arrive at her place and you can feel the erotic energy flowing from her. It filled you with desire and need for her.

You enter her apartment, and she is on you before you can think.

She kisses you with the ferocity of a lioness starved for her partner. Her tongue explores your mouth with the vigor of a conqueror trying to tame wild lands. When she breaks the kiss she lifts her top over her head and you are greeted by her magnificent breasts and the rest of her upper body.

Creamy white skin gorgeous curves and of course her breasts that have you feral.

You barely think before stooping down to the left one engorging on its swell. Your head is left in a heady mix of arousal and need. Eunbi moans as you suck on her breasts before pushing you onto the couch. She straddles you before yelping and saying “oh someone is ready.”

She smiles as she opens your pants and with no hesitation wraps her breasts around your cock. You scream in Euphoria as the softness and gentle grace she moves with drives you crazy.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me,”

You say before you explode all over her. The last few days of teasing have left you so primed that she barely needed 3 pumps and you were gone. You cover her tits, face, and neck in your seed. Eunbi smiles though still pumping you through it coaxing you.

“You have more for me right,” she asks her eyes bright and encouraging and you can’t help it you explode all over her again, as your balls ache trying give her everything. You black out as she still fucks you with her tits.

Unable to think or move but receiving her attentions is glorious torture. She gets you there again, and again and again, To the point you think she’s gonna kill you, until she says, “I won’t stop until you can’t get hard anymore,” you groan and whimper as she relentlessly titfucks you again each time Getting a little less out of you.

It’s brutal as she doesn’t stop. She keeps you hard with her filthy language and sinful body. By the time you finally can’t get hard anymore Eunbi has gotten 8 orgasms out of you. Eunbi smiles though still as she is covered in cum at this point.

Before you can pass out Eunb brings your eyes to her and she says, “did you enjoy the encore?”