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capslocked · 1 year

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MANAGE (THIS) TROIS

male reader x wonyoung && yujin

12k words

It’s how your Sundays spend you, if you’re to be honest. It’s a day for rest, for sobriety, for virtue and measure, the Lord’s day if you’re at all particularly reverent (citation probably needed), and why Wonyoung is that much more annoyed when Yujin shows up dressed the way she is.

"Uh." Wonyoung laughs and it’s recognizably derisive. "Are you kidding?"

As some may or may not know, the three of you have been friends for ages; the spontaneous combustion into laughter, the ribbing, the teasing, the playful banter, it’s how you’ve always got on—the fact now that the sex is toe-curling and irresistible and downright sinful? An entirely separate issue.

Surely it won’t complicate things.

Technically, you’re all equally at fault the moment Wonyoung spies you making eyes at Yujin as she struts through the living room. She’s wearing only a tank top and a pair of fluorescent pink sports shorts that barely manage to wrap around her thighs, the seam of which gape perfectly to show you just how long her legs are, to the point your bones nearly start to ache.

The truth that Yujin will later vehemently deny is that things spiral out of control on account of the fact that she simply cannot keep her mouth shut, as is usually the case. You’ve come to assume that rather than possessing a shameless love for her own voice, she does it deliberately—to egg Wonyoung on, because the only thing she enjoys more than getting the younger girl flustered, red in the face, and reduced to an incoherent mess is arriving there before she even lays a finger on her.

However, if Yujin’s plan is to get Wonyoung all bent out of shape and worked up and beside herself to the point that she has no other choice than to take it all out on you, it backfires spectacularly.

Wonyoung’s nose scrunches and all her angelic features sharpen to a point as she watches Yujin crash onto the sofa next to you; sends her hands to her hips when she sees that warm arm wrap around your waist—palm flattening against your stomach a moment before sliding into the waistband of your joggers.

"What in the living fuck do you think you’re doing?"

"The way I see it," Yujin starts up again, and even though her words are clearly addressed, enveloped and stamped for Wonyoung, you’ve got the sultry color of her voice flirting in your ear, mouth skirting across your neck to find the gentle marks and bruises she’d made a silent promise to return to. "Miss I-give-the-best-head really shouldn’t have a single thing to get jealous over now should she? I mean, you sounded so sure about it."

"All I said was I have a proven method."

Yujin scoffs. "It’s not a precise science, sweetheart. Different strokes for different—"

"All sciences are precise," Wonyoung snaps back, one elegant brow arching skyward and arms crossing, "that’s what science means."

"Well, I think that’s open to interpretation."

"How… extraordinary."

To Wonyoung’s continued annoyance, the genuine throaty sound of your laughter doesn’t inspire confidence. Neither do the fingers you’ve got sinking into the round of Yujin’s perfect ass as she shimmies onto your lap, but it’s kinda the point. Because you know that the way you have Yujin sinking into a kiss, her hips rutting against you, lips sliding wet and easy and smacking across yours like you don’t care who’s listening—

"Oh, okay sure, let’s see…" Wonyoung pulls a fist out and begins to count on her fingers: "it’s my apartment. That’s my couch. And he’s my boyfriend."

When Yujin pulls herself off from your lips, her fingers continue on raking through your hair, and she just smirks—nearly grinning stupid because she knows how this always ends. Urges you gently as she pulls you by the wrist to grab a second handful of her chest. She’s delightful. And if there’s anything in particular that she flat out refuses to learn from this peculiar arrangement, it’s that you never ever ever try to goad Jang Wonyoung into anything.

"A little possessive, isn’t she?" Yujin asks as her hands, in a near-rehearsed motion, run down across your chest to where she can hook a few fingers into your pants. Gets them just down about the middle of your thighs to pull your cock out far enough to start stroking it.

And when Yujin also says right after—voice lilting into this familiar tone, something Wonyoung should absolutely know better than to walk straight into—that maybe if your girlfriend could take better care of you, that the truth might be: "I dunno, have you considered it could just be, like, personal preference? That he’s dying to bend me over instead? Would rather get my legs folded up into my chest and pump me full of hot cum just like that? I’m sure it’s nothing personal, little dove. I mean look at me: I’m built for it."

Wonyoung floats her fingers to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose.

(Here’s the thing about Wonyoung: she’s quiet, incredibly pretty, reserved and sugar-sweet, and plays her cards close to her chest. With all that dark wavy hair spilling over her shoulders without fuss or pother, deep brown eyes easy to get lost in, she’s the quintessential angel the devil might spend countless nights in fantasy about plucking right out of the heavens and dragging straight to hell. In fact, so angelic is she that Yujin had begun to grow increasingly concerned that all your hard work had possibly been for naught—that for a long time, all those flashes of wicked lust in her eyes may have perhaps not been what you thought they were, those naughty quips and innuendos that never just landed as something you could quite laugh off were possibly a misread; Yujin had an incredible talent for determining which potential conquests were open to a little conquering—but with this girl, she was at wit’s end, had nearly given up. Wonyoung would blush and simper one moment, pale and avoid her the next. Oh, there’s wicked fun to be had in turning a wholesome and prudish princess to her more kinky side, though only if the princess is willing.

Wonyoung, so it seemed, was an incredibly difficult princess to read.)

"Brat," Wonyoung spits, shadowing in behind the girl on your lap and lets her voice lower into a dangerous growl, gets close enough so that Yujin practically winces when she feels the moisture in her breath against her temple. You watch as she gathers Yujin’s hair into her fist. It’s enough to tilt her head back until Yujin opens her mouth in surprise—something Wonyoung knows instinctively to kiss and suck and lick at until her lips grow swollen and tender. Whether or not it had always been the case, the truth could never have delighted you both more: the girl’s no angel.

"Mmmnph." Yujin melts further into your lap at the feeling of the tongue sliding languidly past hers, and you can hear all these little satisfied hums leak out of her chest in droves. When you ball the slippery polyester front of Yujin’s tank top between your fingers, her breasts spill out on either side of the fabric close enough to your face that it takes nary an effort to give one of her small dark nipples a wet kiss—an intense lips-puckering suck to the other.

The moment your mouth gets involved, lapping and licking and caressing her hardening nipples, Yujin starts to squirm. Each flick against her pushes a soft moan straight into Wonyoung’s lips; in many ways, that’s a familiarity the three of you all always manage to return to. Especially now that she’s got her hands wrapped and twisting around your cock, jerking you slowly like she has all the time in the world, like you and your girlfriend aren’t going to fuck her six ways to Sunday and still find her begging for more.

"Aight, listen here," you say finally with calm command, and both girls nearly startle. "It’s my cock you’re stroking. So I’m either fucking somebody or I’m gonna have to go take care of this myself."

The two of them get their eyes on you, both pairs of perfectly sculpted eyebrows ever-so-slightly furrowed. And when you unclench your grip on Yujin’s pliable ass, stretching your fingers wide to run it up her back, their gazes are rapt. Interesting. You file that away.

"Nope. You’re not going anywhere," Wonyoung says, having pulled away from the kiss and let a smug quirk settle into the corners of her mouth—apparently come to grips with the fact that, yes, you are going to fuck Yujin’s body until she’s incomprehensibly stuttering and blabbering, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

In tacit agreement, you slap Yujin’s ass through her shorts hard enough that she yelps. She’s not wrong—not that you’ll let her hear you say it—but she is built for it. You nearly snort, saying, "well hurry up and figure it out, who am I fucking first?"

Wonyoung leans in further to get her point across, to get her hands all over the girl in your lap. "What do you think about that, hmm? How does getting that cock inside you sound?"

"Oh, love." Yujin steadily starts stroking you faster, fingers tightening and loosening in a steady rhythm. Because if there’s anything in the world that turns her on more than Wonyoung abandoning all that about perfection and innocence, it’s feeling your cock grow harder in her hands. "Please please please tell me that it’s me."

She slumps forward at the touch of your fingers searching about the heat between her legs, arches her chest toward you to feed her breast back into your mouth—oh, of all the ways to die, surely. There’s a wistful sigh she lets on, a similar thought brewing and simmer as each touch from your deft fingers arrives closer to where she wants you, voice shuddering along a pleasant note.

"C’mon," she whines, "you get to fuck him all the time. No harm, no foul, right?"

From the way her pussy feels beneath the thin material of her shorts, you realize she’s made the decision to not wear any underwear, made the decision long ago that she’d be fucking herself with your cock and nothing else. A quickly drawn breath of air past her teeth clues Wonyoung in that you’ve got your fingers against her clit and she’s that much closer to begging to let her share you, closer to pleading Wonyoung to let her take your cock and ride it until every muscle in her legs are sore and aching.

You spit Yujin’s nipple from between your lips and laugh out loud.

"Yujin, you slut," you start, "you’re not even wearing anything under here."

There’s another rise out of the girl when you press your hand up against her pussy, close enough to slide a thumb between her lips, close enough that you can feel her heat, her gentle tremor, the way she begs for the friction of your fingertips, your tongue, your cock—anything thing firm and unyielding and attached to you.

"Didn’t stop you from you looking," Yujin insists, arching further back to the grip Wonyoung keeps tight in her hair, whimpering again as she gets her lips hovering beside hers. "Bet he’s been thinking all kinds of things, Wonyoung."

"And I suppose you figure you deserve that much, don’t you," says Wonyoung callously as she starts kneading her fingers into Yujin’s perky breast, the one you’ve left neglected. "Deserve to have this cock pounding you deep and hard and you probably want him to fuck a load of hot cum into you too."

Yujin just nods.

"Figure I’ll get my tongue on your clit for you and make you cum that way, huh?"

"Need to get fucked so bad," Yujin whines at Wonyoung, in the increasingly brief spaces between their loud, lip-pulling kisses—pauses that fill quickly with heated breath and the lust in her unsteadied voice.

Your girlfriend is hardly impressed. She says as much, and then laughs into her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her temple, and chides, "greedy."

Yujin immediately goes pliant, a little whine escaping her that neither of you bother to soothe. She repeats herself several times, "I’ll be good. Promise."

"Oh, I know you will." Wonyoung skates her thumb along her jaw until she finds her fingers threaded beneath her chin, gets her face pointed up so that she can see just how clear and articulate her eyes are, cast down the regal length of her nose and smoldering dangerously into hers. "But I think you’re still entirely way too coherent right now."

Yujin presses her lips against Wonyoung’s again, gets her fingers up over the head of your cock to lather precum into her thumb and drag it all down your length before pumping you in earnest. Wonyoung’s the one who knows you like the back of her hand, how to get you groaning and gritting your teeth with her fingers, her lips, her cunt, however she chooses, but Yujin’s never been far behind. She just smiles when she brings a touch down to your balls, and purrs: "Then that just means you aren’t distracting me enough."

Wonyoung flashes you a grin, and, oh, do you know the look, always mirthless and every bit as cunning—the same whenever she feels the urge to taunt you into sparring with her. She gets it exactly right, the perfect severity to an austere tone that makes Yujin’s hair stand on end at the next thing out of her mouth:

"Bedroom. Now."

It’s almost predictable. Yujin just looks at you with these wide eyes, soft and unassuming like she’s some lost puppy, knowing she’ll want for nothing once she’s in your hands—the way you and Wonyoung always take care of her, how you get her cumming over and over until she’s near hysterical and so overstimulated she has to beg you to stop.

"Best not keep her waiting," you tell the girl in your lap as you press your thumbs down into the curve of her soft, milky skin and massage a few circles into her thighs, "we both know she can quite be the handful."

And but so it’s the three of you—that common plurality coming to a head, you peeling your pants from your waist as you go, staggering not even a few feet down the hallway before Yujin says something that tests the limits of Wonyoung’s patience. You don’t quite hear what it is that sneaks out of her mouth, but whatever it is, you know it’s petulant.

Wonyoung pins the older girl to the wall, hands splayed around the bones of her hips, and there’s nothing forceful about it—the kind of authority she exerts a subtle thing. The two of them exchange more kisses, two curtains of dark silky hair cascading into another and only coming apart as Wonyoung lands fingerprints down the rise of Yujin’s shorts. When Wonyoung raises her face again, letting her breath kiss the tender swell of Yujin’s lips, she’s watching the way she throws her head back to the wall, throat exposed and begging to be marked, marred and bruised.

Wonyoung pushes her tongue between her lips, run semi-circles across them to remind Yujin of the big picture. "You’re fucking wet, Yujin."

"Better do something about it," Yujin chokes out, gentle features wincing again as Wonyoung’s hand slides lower, dipping and diving between her thighs.

"Strip," Wonyoung commands abruptly, liking the way it makes her shudder.

Say what you want about Ahn Yujin, no one thinks she’s stupid—Wonyoung might be the one to take the reins, call the shots, press the two of you under her thumb, but at the end of the day, Yujin always, always, gets what she wants. She starts at the top, raising one arm and reaching it behind her back so that her rack is fucking presenting, all while she shimmies her way out of her shorts, the flash of neon puddling into the floorboards at her feet. Yujin’s body is incredible, all angles and curves in the right places, pointed and soft in this juxtaposition that gets your head spinning—it’s a work of art regardless if it’s underneath you, on top of you, squirming into the cushions of the sofa, the springs of the mattress; it’s the angle, the framing, the change in perspective that always manages to guide you to new conclusions and interpretations.

"Good girl," Wonyoung mutters, and bites off a pitching moan as she seals Yujin’s lips with her own.

The two of them, like this (and in so many other ways), are so aesthetically pleasing. Beyond the way the pair gets their hands on each other’s skin, holds each other, ruts against each other, kisses each other like it’s some overflow of passion ten years in the making, they’re simply breathtaking and stupefying to the point that if you weren’t sinking your teeth into your lower lip while you stroke your own cock at the sight, your jaw would drop. As if the Creator, in their making, that meticulous work, had endeavored to pour as much unbridled, raw appeal to their figures, their forms, and pack an even more ungodly amount of lust into the two of them so that they might wreak havoc on anything they touch.

(And so often is it you, the recipient of all that lust and desire, you poor, poor thing).

But the thing that ultimately gets you behind Wonyoung, hiking her pleated skirt up around her hips and sunk to your knees isn’t so much that you feel left out as much as it is that you can’t let her be the first one to take Yujin apart—before you get your cock in her, get her clinging to your name like a lifeline, muttering it like a prayer, cursing at the top of lungs until she cums all over you and shakes and convulses in your arms. You simply can’t allow it, can’t do anything other than get Wonyoung’s stockings frayed, furled and fucked between her thighs and stick your face straight into her cunt.

"Oh, what’s the matter, little dove?" Yujin asks, eyes smug and content at how you have Wonyoung’s lithe frame curling into her, the choked back whimper you force out of her throat as you tear through the sheer fabric of her leggings. "Maybe… perhaps… you’re dying to get fucked too?"

"Watch it," Wonyoung growls.

"Or what?" Yujin just laughs, even though Wonyoung’s fingers continue to twist and dive inside her, start to make her cheeks flushed and stained, she’s purring: "Oh I know, you’re going to have to punish us both… like what a total drag."

She’s not going to be in a state to do much of anything, is how you see it, pressing your lips harsh to Wonyoung’s pussy, drawing out circles with your tongue on the hot, sensitive skin—drawing out a broken gasp that has her shooting up a hand to cover her mouth. But it’s too late. Yujin sees the opportunity for what it is.

Though you suppose there’s only patience enough for the first few buttons from the top of Wonyoung’s collar before Yujin decides to tear the garment from her shoulders, sending buttons flying and rolling across the floor. Wonyoung flinches while trying to retreat from the touches Yujin reaches up her skirt, and she simply backs up further into your face. You’ve got your tongue splitting her lips, tasting her entrance and making her pretty mouth—usually so poised and elegant and polished—start to cuss and swear.

"Baby, baby, baby," Yujin says, voice trailing, and she starts to preen Wonyoung’s hair out of her face so she can look her straight in the eyes, "You ride this cock every day, and here you are: even more desperate than me."

"Hey now, that’s not fair," you say as you surface from between the backs of Wonyoung’s thighs with a scowl, and seemingly without even thinking, pull your grip off her tight cheek to slide two fingers into her. You listen to her keen as you get two, three knuckles deep inside her hot cunt. "She doesn’t always ride."

"Hmmm." Yujin wraps her arms around Wonyoung and grabs your hips. "What do you think? The bed? Or fuck her right here?"

You still have your digits curling inside her, so she hardly minds at all when Yujin grabs her firm by the chin and slips her tongue in her mouth—for someone with such a strong resolve, she’s awfully sensitive, shockingly easy to unravel—minds even less when you lean over her shoulder and get your voice in her ear, teasing, "would you like that, princess?"

"Yujin," and she has it choked up so bad you can’t help but laugh as it nearly gets caught in her throat on the way out. She swallows, gathers her fleeting composure and wrestles herself from the girl’s grip before reaching her hand behind her and onto your waist, putting a stop to you fucking her right then and there. Makes you settle for sliding your cock between her cheeks.

"Yujin, darling," she starts again, voice again composed and unsheathed and apparently risen from the ashes—fashioned into a sharpened edge and held firm at the girl’s throat—only instead of terrifying her, it merely has Yujin licking her lips, struggling in anticipation. The three of you are only ever right where you’re meant to be. "I thought I told you. Get on the bed."

Wonyoung takes a beat to finagle with the rest of her clothes, removing the stockings you’d ruined and tossing them into the bin before sliding her skirt down around her ankles. Just like anyone else, she steps one foot out of them, and then the other, but the whole motion looks elegant and poised without even trying. She really is incredible like that. You’re always sure to remind her of it. And you can tell she’s rolling her eyes when Yujin makes a comment about not having it all down to a science in what is possibly the least sincere apology to date before dragging her tongue up the length of your cock, a loud kiss punctuating the end of the gesture as she reaches the tip.

Yujin’s on Wonyoung’s bed, again the familiarity something to marvel at, belly down and knees bent with her feet kicking over her frankly immaculate ass as she props herself up onto her elbows to properly lick you. She teases again, fitting her lips around your head and letting spit run down your cock. I hope you don’t mind, she efforts to say with her mouth stuffed, garbled and muffled and almost unintelligible.

Almost.

"At this rate," Wonyoung pipes up before settling in behind you, arms running around your waist and holding you by the base of your shaft, "both of you’ll be lucky to have much left to mind when I’m through with you."

Yujin pulls her mouth off you, lips smacking. Laughs out loud at the thought, and you watch her pull a bundle of hair back past her ear, angle her mouth better to meet your cock, and start to tease, "there’s our princess."

"Want your mouth too, Wonyoung," you say over your shoulder, and even if you’re pushing your luck, you know that deep down, Wonyoung can’t refuse a chance to show off, another opportunity to put Yujin in her place. "Maybe show her how it’s done."

She nearly snorts. "You’re spoiled."

She’s a slut for your cock anyway, you figure is what Yujin tries to say, but it gets lost in translation as you push your way between her soft lips, choking her for a brief moment with your cockhead in her throat. It’s all slippery and shiny with her spit after you pull your hips back, and it’s an invitation Wonyoung shakes her head at, until finally capitulating, "fine."

This silent competition that they settle into sees you as its sole beneficiary—your cock hardly left untouched, unlicked, uncared for by either of their mouths. They each have that burning desire to be the one that makes you melt, gets you to curse and moan and point your cock at their pretty face while you cum. Given that their goals are hardly aligned, it’s astonishing that they work in such beautiful harmony: Wonyoung licks your shaft, Yujin at your balls; kisses reach where another cannot, and you’re at the complete mercy of all the sinful motions of their tongues and lips—they’ve made you cum like this plenty of times before and they know they can do it again.

"Fuck," you curse, letting it slip, letting them each know you’re that much closer to being the first one to go. "Feels so fucking good."

The moment you start to bundle and brush all that dark silky hair from their faces, weave your hands into it at the napes of their necks, the movement and response is so elegant that it appears choreographed, rehearsed, and to some extent, that’s not far off. In tandem, Yujin and Wonyoung’s tongues slide across your shaft; their lips meet, pull apart, drag wet against your cock and kiss once more—these soft, ephemeral touches that leave all three of you yearning. Every now and again, one of them will take you further into the heat of their mouth, but it’s nothing selfish or ambitious, as they’re soon back to giggling and making out like the head of your cock isn’t resting every so reliably between them.

"Should make him paint our faces," Yujin says, smiling and rolling her fingers through your balls.

Wonyoung scoffs, "don’t get ahead of yourself."

This how your Sundays spend you, if you’re to be honest. The three of you never do make it to church (Saturday evenings so quickly turn to night to morning in the flash of an eye, and you’re all too sore and aching to get out of bed), but there’s no lack of worship to be had at the edge of Wonyoung’s bed—heads bowed in reverence as these two sets of heavenly lips cushion the length of your cock, tongues lathering and slipping about its sensitive skin. No, it’s not any substitute for a pew: they’re not kneeling or genuflecting or gazing up at you with their big wide eyes, watching for a sign from above—that you might wince and furl your brow; pull your cock back and jerk off until you paint over their angelic faces.

But as you run your fingers through their hair, gently fuck the unholy union where their soft, wet lips meet, the only thing curling off your tongue is an irreverent hiss, "fuck, girls, Jesus, I probably could cum like this." You reach forward, and plant a hand on Yujin’s ass, watching her soft skin ripple at the impact—she just squeals when you do it again, harder. "Fuck."

"Don’t," Wonyoung snaps. "That’d be, like, a total waste." She gets her fingers on your balls, and tells Yujin, breath hot and kissing the skin of your cock, "now watch me sweetheart. You start first, here, slow at the tip—"

The little kiss that Wonyoung plants at the end of your cock quietly makes it way down and around your shaft, and then it’s her tongue reaching beyond her lips to swirl and twist about your sensitive shaft. Yujin takes a mental note, grinning and teasing her fingernails across your stomach like she’s was watching it all for the first time, whenever Wonyoung makes you groan.

"Well, aren’t you lucky," Yujin tells you, as she studies the masterclass that is Wonyoung sucking cock. She strokes you every now and again, bringing her own hands into a cadence that matches how Wonyoung fucks you with her lips, even if it’s almost an afterthought.

"Her pussy’s better," you admit, even if she can easily get you shaking and cumming with only her tongue. Railing your girlfriend’s cunt is a completely different kind of pleasure, but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth or the lips or wherever it is your cock is being serviced—it’s ecstatic perhaps, diffuse, expressive, the way Wonyoung takes you in her mouth. She twists. She laps. Her cheeks hollow and she sucks. In the right hands—and Wonyoung is absolutely on that list—you feel intensely wanted, intensely taken care of and it makes your balls ache, your cock twitch.

"I can feel you throbbing," Yujin says, eyes beaming up at you and swiveling her hips about, ass waving ever-so-raised in the air above Wonyoung’s bed sheets—that’s an image you’ll tuck away, be sure to return to.

"Yeah," you manage, and you’re reeling when both girls get their fingers locked around your shaft, pumping you in a perfectly fucked harmony. "It feels, ugh, incredible."

"If she isn’t every bit as dangerous when she goes down on me." Yujin laughs, knowing that Wonyoung’s mouth is warm and wet and perfect. Knowing that she’s begging for stern recourse when she fists a handful of her luscious dark hair and pushes your girlfriend’s bobbing head down nearly to the base of your cock, continues to egg her on while making her choke and spit, "oh, good girl, suck that cock, you lovely, pristine, whore—"

The ire in Wonyoung’s face—brow twisting and eyes narrowed—says it all when she pulls herself off you. There’s a visible tear or two forming on the end of her long lashes and a hand pumping your shaft to make sure you’re hard and every bit as unyielding for Yujin’s throat. "Fuck. I suppose you don’t have to learn anything, you brat."

You catch the devilish glimmer in Wonyoung’s eyes as your eyes meet, and the corners of her mouth twist into this smug smile as she tumbles backward and lands at Yujin’s hips—gets them propped up and her face between her legs.

"Oh fuck," Yujin says as the realization comes to her, in the breath before you get your hands in her hair and slip her mouth around your shaft. Her tongue flutters beneath the sensitive belly of your cock, nothing controlled or meticulous, but to her credit, you’re also punching straight to the back of her throat, these choked sounds spilling up from her chest each time your cockhead brushes with the hot, wet space you can only reach from her perfectly slacked jaw.

Now you have to pay close attention to something that’s going to seem obvious at first: the two girls are nothing alike. Wonyoung has you mapped out and understood to a dangerous degree, can make you cum and wail and gnash your teeth (the kind of skillful tonguework that now has Yujin humming and moaning onto your cock as it currently arrives between her thighs), but the thing about Yujin—her mouth is simply made for fucking—as if each time you socket your cock away in her throat, she’s gained something for it, simply delighted, finds her calling, her purpose, and it gets her reaching her fingers around you, splayed out into the back of your thighs to reel you into her lips again.

Forced to answer—and goodness, you hope the day never comes—it’s impossible to pass up.

She shuts her eyes tight when you draw your hips back, swirls her tongue over where you ache and throb, and relaxes to let you deep into her again. You grunt, she chokes, you might both be tearing up—the wet sounds from both your crotches totaling to a sum greater than its parts—this is pleasure exquisite, and if you’re considering your vices, your virtues, neither of you can quite figure out what happened to temperance.

"Fuck me, Yujin, your mouth," you say, sinking your teeth into your lip until it stings, and your moans start to come out in involuntary dribbles. It’s hard not to note how the corners of Yujin’s mouth smirk as it opens wider to take you in between her lips, granting you more warmth and wetness to fuck your length into. There’s a clear irony in the way you brush those stray hairs out of her face, keeping her image elegant and faultless; you’re aware of it, all at odds at the way you grip her hair into a rough pony tail and fuck your length into her—pull your hips back and guide her down onto your shaft again.

"Feels so fucking good," you repeat, breath heavy at the beck and call of your cock lodged deep in Yujin’s mouth. She coughs again, and you can feel the wet slick of her spit lather you, find you that much easier to take. When you pause, because god knows if you keep at it, you’ll be flooding her throat with a hot load—one that’s been building and aching since the girl pounced on you in the living room and decided to stroke you through your shorts and get you all hard and needy—she simply picks up the slack, gets her hand on your shaft and pumps and twists you until you’re making a promise, "gonna cum, god, keep doing that, wanna cum in your little mouth."

Only thing is, Wonyoung finds a loose thread and pulls Yujin apart first. It’s clear as anything: that fucking tongue is made for eating cunt. Each lick against Yujin’s aching entrance returns her further and further to the basics—breaks her apart slowly so that Wonyoung might know just exactly how to put her back together and do it again.

And you’re left so very needing when she lifts her face off you, letting these loud, harsh gasps replace the sound of her lips around your cock, the sound of you fucking her face and getting spit and pre-cum all over your waist, her chin—it’s a mess. It’s hot and sinful and you’re biting hard into your lip that you might find some way to resolve the issue of needing a hole to fuck your cum into. A total mess.

You watch her spine arch magnificently, thighs shaking and quivering, head thrown back into the fireworks of it all—Wonyoung doesn’t even surface, she’s not there to bring the girl to her orgasm and then cuddle her after, drift away in the pillow talk and the gentle petting and kissing; she continues licking hard and fast still at the girl’s pussy, fingers gliding through the aftermath of it all while she’s sensitive and aching. Her eyelids are softly shut, peering out just over the beautiful mound that is Yujin’s ass while the girl writhing about has hers clenched tight, the over stimulation become too much to bear.

"Oh god, fuck, fuck, oh fuck," she whines, collapsing into the sheets, muscles tensing and freezing until her mouth hangs open—the dam within her at a point that cannot do anything other than simply break.

Wonyoung doesn’t even flinch. You can hear her fingers get messy and sloppy as they continue to fuck Yujin’s tight hole while she steadies the girl with another hand on her waist. It’s always been the truth: Yujin loves to be manhandled, yearns for it, even if it’s Wonyoung’s dainty wrists holding her in place—so it’s to her added pleasure when you swing yourself over the bed and tell your girlfriend you’re going to get your cock in Yujin’s cunt too.

"Gonna fuck her," you spit, pulling Wonyoung up off the quivering, aching mess that is Yujin on the bed. Her body is practically limp, all those muscles she’d spend hours in the gym working to maintain do nothing beyond lie still for you and only jump back to life at the feeling of your cock slapping her ass, labor to voice out a silent cry when you point it towards her sopping, needy cunt.

"Remember," Wonyoung says with an obvious lethality in her voice—oh, she can kill, do it all with a smile—still wiping Yujin’s slick from her mouth with the back of her wrist, "she asked for this."

You curl over her rear and the soft skin of her ass presses into your hips, spreads out across your stomach—it’ll be red and aching and she’ll love you for it. A kiss at her temple, and the promises you’re whispering in her ear make her fucking whimper, "Gonna cum in you, babe. Gonna get you all worked up and cumming again and clenching down on me and I’m gonna fuck this load deep into you."

Yujin worries her lip between her teeth as she nods and mewls like the fucked mess she is. Thoughts sent spiraling at the idea of your hard shaft railing between her legs, the promise of being packed full with your cum—and the kiss your cock makes against her as you align yourself between her wet lips sees her nearly collapse. She just rasps, breath broken and uneasy and you’re not even inside her yet, "Yes, please—need it."

"Oh my god—" Yujin gasps out loud as you slip inside her. She’s not incoherent yet, but all that’s got to be close; you can feel it.

"Hey, don’t cum right away," Wonyoung tells you, "I want to see her cream all over that cock of yours, show me how you fucking ruin her."

It’s a tall order, sinking into the overwhelming tight heat that is Yujin’s soaked cunt. She takes you easily, all worked up and fucked from Wonyoung’s mouth, the expertise of her tongue against her clit—almost too easily. "Fuck, wanna cum," you breathe, curses and expletives flowing like water.

"Oh, I’m sure you will," Wonyoung says from behind you, lips pursed at the sharp blade of your shoulder as she massages circles into your hips. "But you know how it is: only good girls get cum in their pussy. Don’t make love to her. Fuck her. Use her."

It’s almost insane that you listen, that you let this girl who weighs half of what you do sit in the saddle—oh, because how easily you can get Wonyoung underneath you and fucked and falling apart just as fast, get your fingerprints up around her the hollow of her throat until she begs you to make her cum—insane that you’re not starting from where you left off in Yujin’s mouth, pounding and fucking with that selfish, industrious alacrity. That in spite of it all, your hips draw back, and when they dive back in, it’s no more than a slow, methodical, purposeful thrust. Yujin simply fucking keens as you stretch out her cunt, and the sensation overwhelms her, filled so perfectly that all she can do is sink her face into the pillows.

"That’s it, face down, ass up, like a good slut," Wonyoung croons from over your shoulder, voice growling into something dangerous. "Nice and slow, really make her feel it."

You’re still cooling down from the moments that had you almost unspooling and unloading ropes of cum into Yujin’s mouth, but the girl you’re fucking is on the other side of all that, turned the page and blissfully quivering and still in the high that had spilled her slick all over your girlfriend’s chin. You adjust her between your hands, gripped firmly onto her waist—noticeably narrow and tiny to the point that says, oh, you can break her, but then there’s the round ass that cushions your thrusts into her cunt, and it reminds you, oh,she can take more. A lovely paradox to ram your cock into.

"It’s so good, so good, just like that," Yujin keeps repeating, throwing herself back into you and chasing her own high. There’s all this desire, all that neediness, she’s simply incorrigible—and her anticipation begins to consume her. "Yes, yes, yes—oh my god."

"You’re fucking creaming," you tell her, like she doesn’t know it, and you slap her perfect ass so hard she yelps. Massage circles into it before getting your hand sunk into the other cheek. All three of you know it: her ass is fucking delightful. You could get lost in those dimples that sit just below where her waist flares into those wide hips (and you most certainly have). All the curves about this canvas of beautiful satin-smooth skin. As you get your voice out to remind her how stunningly beautiful she is, start telling her to cum on your cock, Yujin practically screams.

Sure, sometimes it may appear like you’re being too rough, too risky, that you’re causing harm, doing damage, and you get how it can come to seem that way, given how you’ve got her body writhing beneath you, fucked and mewling, but here’s the thing you have to remember, and Yujin said it herself: she’s built for it.

"You gonna fill me?" Yujin asks, gasping for air like she’s just washed up on shore, "Gonna make me your cumdump, daddy? Go ahead, do it—fucking use me."

Your thumb is searing its print harsh into her jaw, and you pull her up into your mouth so that your words are clear and painfully articulate, "needy brat."

Her words come out shaky, punctuated by the way you pound her into the mattress, into nothing less than submission. "You—love—this—needy—brat."

She knows it, you know it, because it’s all too true. Because you are ramming, bulldozing, ruining her aching hole; every stab into her tight cunt has her curves rippling and her voice shattering into a million pieces. She moans hard when you bottom out inside her.

"Please." Starts sputtering when you do it again. "I can feel you so fucking deep."

"There you go," Wonyoung says, the sultry sound in her voice tickling the shell of your ear, "fuck her like she deserves, look… she needs it so so bad."

"Hey, I know how to fuck," you curse, eyes rolling back over your shoulder, and it’s a mistake. Before you can continue the thought, Wonyoung kisses you hard—hungrily licking and pulling at your lips like she needs you more than girl at the end of your cock. She’s got her hands all over your chest, your sides, fingernails scraping light across your skin and relishing the motion of you pounding her mess of a friend, the way you’re slicing her voice to ribbons and flooding her throat with wanton moans and squeals and whimpers. And when you’ve got your shaft so deep in Yujin’s perfect cunt that your lips part briefly to make some foreign noise of your own, Wonyoung seizes the chance for what it is, slides her tongue right between them. Nothing shy or reserved about it.

"Mmnnph." She can probably feel your heart racing, feel you coming higher and higher, feel the way you shudder when you get Yujin’s hips further elevated in your grip, settling fast into this angle that lets you stab deeper, fuck harder. But with the two of you briefly silenced, it becomes just the soundtrack of your cock boring hard into Yujin—the harsh thrust of your hips against that fucking perfect ass, the way she’s whimpering in delight—that you have to hold onto, keep yourself distracted from the wet and blistering heat you bury into each time you rail into her needy cunt.

"Oh, of course you do," Wonyoung finally breathes against your lips, a dangerous smile forming on her own, "Why don’t you remind the girl moaning and creaming all over your cock. She’s practically sobbing. Go on, I think she’s earned it."

The way you have Yujin remember it, the pleasure she can only find at the end of your open palm, arrives quickly and without warning—when you bring a hand down onto her ass cheek, print outlined in white and quickly fading, Yujin’s voice leaks out, shattered: "Oh fuck, please." She slides her hands forward, back arching into a curve that makes you dizzy, ass still presenting and proffering toward you like it’s her duty. And whether it’s purposeful or not, she clings to the word like it’s her lifeline, no more suitable to moor herself to than the sheets she bundles and pinches between her fingers, "please, please, I just need… please…"

"Look at that, you’re fucking owning her pussy," Wonyoung purrs, noticing it well before either of you, too distracted in the throes of your own sex to see the signal flares, the warning signs laid out in front of you, Yujin’s knees fucking wobbling and her hips chasing back as you draw your cock out of her cunt. "She’s going to cum again."

"N-Need more… please… more… harder…"

And at the end of a long, deep thrust into her wet, well-fucked cunt, she absolutely does.

"Cumming," she pants, twice.

It’s every bit as incredible as ever, her mouth hung open and barely able to form the words she needs. Your hand is flush against her ass again, meeting the rosy pink glow of that growing stain, and this time Yujin doesn’t simply bounce back, elastic, resilient. She starts to babble, curses and names and thoughts all trading meaning and purpose as she crashes her whole body to the bed—clenches tight around your cock to the point that it’s a challenge to keep yourself between her slick thighs and buried deep between her ass cheeks as you fuck relentlessly into her prone form—however the extent to which it slows your effort, if any, is unclear.

"God fuck, I can’t get enough of you, Yujin, your little cunt is just incredible," you rasp, teeth gritting as your limbs spill over the top of her exhausted body—before a groan, loud and obscene, has the broken edges in your graveling voice striking at a vein laid deep within her, something foundational and base and instinctual:

"Cum, want you to cum, want to feel you—"

"On your back, dear," Wonyoung says flatly, taking enjoyment in the way she writhes beneath you. "Let him fuck you nice and deep, Yujin."

Yujin is nothing if not compliant, putting up no fuss as you turn her hips in your hands, get on her back and those long legs onto your shoulders. You fill her to the hilt. Make her blather and gasp, mewling, moaning, collapsing. You’ve got fingers leaving bruises in her thighs like she’s yours and always will be and she fucking loves it.

"Fuck her hard, love," Wonyoung urges, eager to see her fall further from grace. "Show her how she needs your hard cock. Show her what a slut she really is."

You can’t help but study the way Yujin holds her mouth agape, frozen in delight, tiny breaths punched out at increasingly short interval on the end of your sharp thrusts—incapable of retaliation, some cute quip or needling retort uncharacteristically absent—Wonyoung makes the same observation, swings her thighs over the girl’s face, gets her pussy resting on her lips and lifts a sweetly challenging eyebrow at your perplexed expression.

"Oh? What is it? No good?" she asks, rubbing her fingers into Yujin’s tits, holding them in place while you pound at her hot cunt. "You going to tell me you want to kiss her while you get off and fill her up?"

"If you don’t mind," you choke, uncrossing Yujin’s legs from in front of your chest— because yeah, too tight.

"Ugh, how cute and wholesome is that." Wonyoung slides backward, reaches down to get a kiss in of her own before whispering, "He treats you so good—so open your legs wide for him darling, show him what a good little fuckhole you can be."

You watch as she closes her eyes, pulls at the sheets. She’s unbelievably pretty, and even hotter when she’s all fucked and bothered—blush burning in her cheeks and sweat building at her brow, lips parting and muttering: "Love that… love it… please, you own me. I belong to you, please just fuck me."

Yujin’s such a ruined mess and Wonyoung is enamored with the fact that you make her way, legs opening and wide and letting you sink in. The way you’re moaning together—it’s filthy, it’s indulgent, it’s so unbelievably hot.

Invested now in seeing how it all comes apart, Wonyoung’s holding Yujin still as you bring her knees to her shoulders, nearly fold the girl in half and get her bent at an obscene angle—bottoming out into her pussy, fucking her hard into the springs of Wonyoung’s mattress and crossing those familiar boundaries, the precipice of your own undoing. There’s no backing out. You’re going to cum, going to fucking use Yujin like the perfect little cumdump Wonyoung reminds you she is, and there’s no other way you’d have it.

Your girlfriend’s just dragging her fingers through Yujin’s hair, thumb rubbing gently at her cheek, caring and intimate even though her words cut deep, slice straight to the bone, "Hey, do you know why they call it a mating press?"—there’s no time wasted getting her fingers between your balls, knows with a touch here, a touch there, she can get you to fucking explode—"He’s gonna cum so deep in you baby, gonna fill you up, gonna breed you."

Fuck, you are shaking. Her pussy clenches, grips, and it’s just that good.

"Please, please, I want to feel it. Need to feel you fucking burst." Yujin’s got her palms flat on your stomach, bracing herself, just whimpers in a half response—too raw to be a grunt, too shaky to be a cry of triumph—sounds effortlessly elated all the same as she makes a series of tiny nods, pleading, do it.

"That’s right, take what’s yours," Wonyoung says into your ear, clearly holding back a laugh at the sight of your depravity—still too poised and composed for your taste, but it’s a bridge too far to care. "Do it. Cum. Just fucking use her."

It’s only a handful of pernicious strokes that make it happen. Really, you can count them—one, two… five… six… seven… eleven—Yujin’s breathing in fits and starts at the end of each one. At Wonyoung’s command, that light squeeze from her slender fingers, you’re there: crashing your mouth onto the girl beneath you, kissing Yujin hard and moaning brazen into her lips. They’re soft and cool to the touch even though her breath is heated and hazarded by the way you’re pumping cum into her cunt, fucking it deeper inside her as you continue to thrust and pound and use her like a toy—Yujin barely manages to moan back; she’s yours; you’re hers; the two of you both so absolutely spent, dismantled, fucked.

(Honestly, you spill like it’s the first time in weeks, like Wonyoung hadn’t milked a load out of you and onto her flat tummy with her hands just earlier this morning, and you’ve got hot cum pooling deep in Yujin’s pussy, leaking down her thighs, and making you nearly slip out from between her legs.

Yujin’s hands are soft on your hips, those small movements pulling you somehow closer into her fucked, exhausted, collapsed body; Wonyoung’s fixing your hair, thumb along your spine, to the nape of your neck and rubbing as if to say, you fucked her so good sweetheart.

It’s absolute and total bliss.

The important thing here is not how long you lay there before Wonyoung gets her dangerous fingers back inside Yujin—scoops your cum out from her cunt and slips it between her lips—only that it’s warm and hot and perfect and you wouldn’t mind if you never left.)

"Because it’s fucking sensitive," you tell Wonyoung, and your eyes flick up to the whine in the shower’s pipes coming to a sudden stop, the glass door sliding in its track.

"I don’t care."

Wonyoung clambers across your legs, reclaiming your attention as she settles her weight onto your thighs with little to no fanfare. You barely have the time to register her touch across your abs before it’s gone again, and there’s no hiding the lethal quirk shadowing in at the corner of her lip when she ruts herself against your hips, glides herself over your shaft and tells you, "You’re going to fuck me."

Even if it’s the usual fair—you laying there, just under Wonyoung’s weight, all her milky soft skin spilling on top of you—she’s perfect in so many ways. In your arms, in your lap, on your cock, it’s hard to pick a favorite.

"What’s the matter?" she asks, smirking and holding back a laugh (that’s her brand, you’ve come to realize, manifested into something of a trademark; it’s killer), and she slaps your shaft twice against the concave flatness of her stomach. The visual of your stiff cock beneath her navel is absolutely everything: look at how far you’ll fill her, how much you’ll stretch her.

"Oh surely you didn’t think I was going to let you call it quits?" Wonyoung pumps her fingers up and down your length once. Adds a little twist to the end of it when she starts to repeat the motion. "C’mon, now," she murmurs, half smiling against your temple because what a way to set the scene, "talk to me, wanna hear that pretty voice of yours baby."

"Haven’t been doing a whole lot of thinking if I’m being honest."

She laughs out loud. Postures herself, gets her hands raking through her hair, letting it cascade perfectly off her shoulders, her collarbones—makes sure that if you’re going to be fucked, it’ll be underneath the sheer image of perfection. "I’d suggest you keep at it then."

Both of you watched the girl you’d fucked into a hot mess stammer on about the shower as she made her way off the bed—got your heads pointed on an identical tilt when she strutted into the bathroom, cum still leaking down her thighs and her hips positively swaying. If Yujin had become liquid, malleable, in your hands, you’re about to fucking puddle in Wonyoung’s.

"You should hear how she talks about you," Wonyoung says, right before taking a beat to adjust, the serene and elegant lines in her face faltering for only a moment when she sits herself on your cock. "The girl just goes on and on about how amazing your cock is, how you make her cum, that heaven-sent look on your face when you’re ravaging her pussy—"

"Fuck," you hiss out, barely making it through the word’s elegant simplicity. Entering Wonyoung for the first time is always an experience. Wetter, hotter, impossibly tighter, with every inch, and it practically makes you shiver. Though, she hardly makes any notice of it beyond the self-satisfactory hum in her throat, that you’re frozen, dazed, coping with the fact that your world had straightened on its axis.

She lifts her hips up. Drops them back down on you. She’s hot and wet and so fucking incredible, you’re aching. The growl you finally let slip is something feral. Of course, Wonyoung just smiles, a million dollar look, and draws a circle across your chest with a fingertip.

"You know…" Her voice trails. "Sometimes I almost catch myself feeling jealous."

You swallow back on a drying moan. "Yeah?"

"But then I realize something every time."

Like there’s nothing to it, her hips sink onto you once more; it’s pain, it’s pleasure, it’s the wind right out of your fucking sails, and you’re so overcome with all of it when that saccharine sweetness in Wonyoung’s voice starts to dance through your thoughts. The very same instant she surrounds you again in her heat. It’s so surreal it’s fucking intoxicating.

"Oh, do tell," you barely manage to gasp out, reeling at the point of impact: her thighs flush against yours, clenching hard onto your cock. There’s never been a question; Yujin can drain you, but Wonyoung’s pussy is so hot, so silky-smooth-perfect, so criminally tight it finds you speechless. You, with all your charm and wit, silenced like it’s nothing.

"I get to fuck this cock."

You don’t even manage a strangled moan. Completely mute when she crashes onto you again. Envelops you in that tight, blistering heat.

"Whenever."

—and again.

"I."

—and again.

"Want."

Now it’s not like you should be surprised by any of it. On a scale of one to ten, Wonyoung is an eleven, though you imagine if you asked her, she’d give herself a twelve. The entitlement isn’t anything new, nor is it all too undeserved.

So, let me take care of you, is how she says it, which is a sort of comedy gold given the context. It makes her out to be some sort of saint, chasing some lofty and altruistic goal that has no care or regard for the knot twisting in her stomach, the fucking absolute neediness of her pussy leaking and creaming all over your waist.

"God—gah—you are so tight, Wonyoung, fuck."

You shoot your hands forward to get them on her tiny waist, brace yourself against the next bounce from her thighs, the insane grip she has on you. It’s a misstep; and it triggers a riposte. She executes flawlessly—gets your wrists pinned to the bed above your head—reminds you that she’s always in control, and starts to ride you in earnest.

"Let me," she repeats, twice, and you’re at her mercy, entirely doubtful you’ll receive any. She looks at the way you wince, the way you grovel; she softly sh-sh-sh’s you to silence, rolls her hips on you fast and hard and starts to fuck at a tempo that is for her. Her hand is on your jaw and her thumb drags along your lip when she asks you, quietly, "It’s better, right? You love fucking this pussy… need me so bad, don’t you? Tell me."

"The best," you say, voice drier than either of you expect. "So fucking good."

Even if you are hanging on by a thread, you figure she believes you. Because the smirk on her lips grows in intensity, its smolder just as damaging as the way she finds herself fucking you at that angle, that depth—gets her hands planted firm on your chest and sends your teeth into the raw swell of your lip. She holds you there, captive, and makes only the slightest motions; it’s no different than the way she’d take you in her fingers in the mornings—get you cumming and moaning beneath the sheets with these minute, focused touches.

"Ah, I can feel you. Feel you throbbing, aching. Need you to ride that edge, baby," Wonyoung rasps, letting nothing slip or falter in the way she moves—this entire litany of precise, meticulous movements her hips drag out along your shaft—and fuck. Okay. Okay.

Her hand cups the back of your neck. Urges you to sit up, and when you do, you’re at her chest, the soft skin mapping out along her collarbones. She leads you to her subtle cleavage, has you splitting with your nose, your lips, taste of salty sweat on your tongue. There’s the familiar lines of her body—the way the curves and edges of her lithe frame weave perfection, how they all come crashing down at once on your cock. That voice in your head telling you bite your cheek, clench your knuckles, because she’s far too much, she’s far too perfect, she’s everything—

"Oh, because of course." Yujin appears from around the bathroom door post wearing nothing but a towel tucked neatly beneath her arms, the effort at something like modesty a day late and a dollar short. Her hair is still damp, tied up above her shoulders, and she’d wiped all that ruined makeup from her eyes—she’s gorgeous as ever, and clearly a little annoyed that you two started again without her. Smirking, fingernail between her teeth she asks, "did watching your boyfriend fuck me get you all hot and bothered? Oh, I get it. You must be jealous."

—well, almost everything. It’s the fact that binds you all. Yujin simply cannot keep her mouth shut.

"Sit," Wonyoung says pointedly, and gestures at the chair beside the bed. "You are going sit and watch."

"And now you." Wonyoung holds your chin between her thumb and fingers—her eyes ablaze with an emblematic glimmer, that ever present noblesse oblige, and she’s got her words curling her off tongue, arriving like a dagger to your throat, "show her how you really fuck."

If you’re not looking closely, it’d be reasonable to assume there’s something present that catalyzes the following series of events: the ease with which you wrestle the reins away from the girl in your lap, some shift or another in the balance of power. It’s nothing like that. Even in those occasions where you’ve got Wonyoung folded beneath your weight, her face smashed into the pillows, or your hand up around her throat, it’s only ever because she invites it. So when you’ve reached around her tiny waist, gotten your fingerprints all over her hips and found the gentle curves of her slender body easy to move, to lift, to fuck, to dominate, to conquer—yes, you’re chipping away at that facade every time you glide upward, deep into Wonyoung’s cunt, forcing her shallow and ragged sighs to grow more frantic, more agitated, more needy. No, it doesn’t take her long to reach the point where her cheeks are flushed and she’s chasing her breath. None of it changes a thing. The way Wonyoung sees it, you belong to her.

"You—are dangerous," she murmurs against your mouth, lips slanting into a half-smile, and her ankles lock behind your waist.

When you get your hand in her hair, raking your fingers through those dark, smooth locks—gently pull back on it—you are presented with her neck, the gulp that travels through the hollow of her throat when you push your cock deep into her cunt. She’s giving it up to you: all this beautiful porcelain skin simply begging for your lips. Oh, you’ll leave bruises, you’ll make marks, those sinful reminders you’ll later come back to.

"Yeah, yes, fuck," she gasps, several times. Her eyelashes flutter each time your cock fills her completely—when you pull out and pull her hips down hard on you again.

Something must hit the right spot, because her legs tense up around your waist. The first time she cums, she’s all huffs and sharp draws of air. Unlike Yujin, there’s no herald or warning, but it’s still obvious as day. And it comes in waves: first a little shudder, then another. Her back arches into you, face falling into the nook between your neck and shoulder, and she begins coming perfectly undone. She’s sweating, her cheeks are so red, and she can’t stop digging her nails into your back. Princess, you tease dangerously into her throat, and she’s gone, a total wreck.

You expect something, anything, from Yujin—there’s never been a better chance to goad and spur the girl practically melting to a puddle in your lap. But as you fuck through the torrid collapse of Wonyoung’s orgasm, the only thing you hear is that slight whimper from beside the bed. Even though her knees are closed, towel stuck between them, you see the hand she has playing between her thighs.

"Look at that," you start, still moving and gliding into the fucked mess of a lapful that is your girlfriend. "Yujin’s touching herself. You look so good getting fucked—look so fucking pretty on my cock, sweetheart, it’s driving her crazy. She can’t help herself."

Wonyoung just sighs, gets arms over your shoulders and her body even tighter against you.

"Do you think she’d like watching me fuck you from behind? Get your perfect mouth on that needy cunt of hers—what do you think of that princess? I bet she’d fucking lose it."

"And have her… watch you… fuck my ass," Wonyoung pants, and the sharp gasp that suddenly fills the room is priceless. The three of you might be inseparable, but there’s no lack of secrets to hide, stories to tell.

Though it’s a thread to follow for another time, because when you swing your legs off the bed, lift Wonyoung’s slender frame into your arms, get your hands under her thighs and her ass spilling through your fingers, and start fucking her—truly fucking her—she nearly cums again. There’s less distance to fall, certainly less composure to break, and as she starts to clench and tremor around your cock, she finds her voice rasping, begging, "please, I want it—make me cum again, please make me cum again."

It’s Wonyoung’s long legs wrapped perfectly around you. It’s the way she loses control of her breath, gasping as you fuck your length into the mind-numbing intensity of her little, sopping cunt. You wouldn’t trade it for anything, the fact that she’s practically royalty and she’s a fucking mess and she’s cumming all over your cock.

"Jesus," Yujin mutters, "You’re making her cream so fucking bad. She’s so close, fuck her harder, fuck our little princess like she deserves—pound her like she needs."

Wonyoung raises her face, eyes cast in yours, these beautiful pools of earthy gray, to a long silence; a real silence, without even the hint of a muttered curse or blather about your name—she seems completely overcome, overwhelmed, overindulged. There’s a tiny tug at a smile in her lips, and a volcanic rush of heat to her face. You recognize that look: the first you’d ever seen it was when she’d had first had your cock and simply could not believe it could ever feel that good, the way it could get her stomach smoldering and thoughts spinning. It’s half surprise. It’s half unadulterated lust. It’s all this want and need and it says without saying, fill me.

"That’s right," Yujin teases, "make her cum on your cock—"

"Yujin, why don’t you get on your knees for me, and have a taste," you offer, but you’re not really asking, hoisting Wonyoung’s exhausted, still-aching cunt off you enough for Yujin to obediently kneel in front of your cock and get her mouth all over you, licking and kissing Wonyoung’s slick right off your shaft.

As you draw yourself out of Wonyoung’s cunt—slip in seamlessly between Yujin’s lips—the girl suspended in your arms whines: that prospect of you not filling her so perfectly a reality too difficult to bear. She gasps. She shudders. And a sudden relief pours deluge-like through her ethereal visage when you knead fingers harshly into her ass, spread her legs wider over your elbows and place her back on your cock again. She’s so fucked and wet and needy that filling completely in one harsh motion barely even elicits more than wanton groan from her chest.

"Where are you—fuck, I," Wonyoung curses, drawing harsh breath and clenching down on you, onto the absence of your shape when you get your cock again into Yujin’s mouth. Her voice is still ragged and wrecked, but she holds tighter to you, asking, "Want you to—where are you going to—?"

In the back of Yujin’s throat if she’s not careful, is your first thought given the way her tongue flicks and flutters and teases the sensitive underbelly of your aching shaft. Deep in this cunt, follows logically right after that, gliding yourself back inside Wonyoung. If there was ever a lesson to be had in gluttony, in indulgence, this is probably it—and considering the third thought that grows quietly in the corner of your thoughts, you’re probably missing the mark.

"On your knees," you whisper against Wonyoung’s cheek, and she laughs silently to herself. Laughs because she knows exactly what you want. Because it’s hardly anything new, novel, or unique.

(For a brief moment, you consider the current circumstances; should probably consider donating to charity. Who could be so lucky? How often have you fucked both these girls, been the only man with the full pair? That you’re gripping a fist around your cock, stroking and pointing it at two open mouths, those wanting tongues—all doe-eyed and docile and they’re so fucking pretty and they’ll look pristine painted with your cum.)

Good lord, it’s a heavy handful: cum splattering all over Wonyoung’s face.

Never have you been one to play favorites; god only knows it’s a dangerous game, but that’s just how the ropes fly—into the valley of Wonyoung’s tongue, across a cheek, the bridge of her nose, she flinches as you get cum on her brow. Oh, she’s perfect, always has been, and you’ve got her marked and marred, debauched and debased with hot, creamy white like she’s never known another purpose.

"Fuck," you sputter, because you need to catch your breath.

There’s this heavy silence; you’re positively mesmerized. Yujin doesn’t even complain, just captures Wonyoung’s cum-covered face in her hands and brings her mouth to hers. Pulls at her lips with this hungry, consuming kiss until finally, lips smacking, she drags herself away—skates a finger across her cheek and slips more cum past Wonyoung’s lips.

"Did you say in your ass?" Yujin asks, brow twisting inquisitively over a glance that flicks up to you, and Wonyoung lets out this genuine laughter as she allows that kernel of shame to grow ever-so-slightly inside her.

"Yep."

Yujin laughs out loud, toothy grin come to bear. "You slut."

You are dozing, curled on your side, and your mind is supplying to you the loveliest dream—or perhaps a memory? It’s hard to tell, but it’s awfully vivid. Someone’s mouth on your own, warm… urgent; the feeling of arms wrapping around your neck, legs brushing about your waist, a familiar hand on your face. Some of it is fuzzy, unclear, as though the experience is coming to you through the fog of a rain-stained window, but then some of the details of the dream solidify, take shape, and you’re—

Is that lavender?

You blink, inhale sleepily, go to stretch, and that’s when everything starts to elucidate.

All around you is the pleasant smell of Wonyoung and Yujin; the feel of an arm around your waist; Yujin’s wavy curls tickling your nose; she’s got one leg hooked around yours and a thigh in your crotch in a way that feels awesome, feels too real to not be a dream, and—oh, wait a minute, that’s because it’s actually happening. Like, right now.

You’re snuggled up with the blankets on Wonyoung’s bed. With the two perfect forms on either side of you.

"Hey," says Yujin, half-sleepy, at half-volume to not wake up the sleeping beauty nuzzled up to your back. She grins because, lord, you are rock hard between your legs—something like an occupational hazard you promise—and she blinks her eyes slowly a few times as she gets her hand wrapped around you. It’s just one pump, it’s experimental, and she has a finger on her lips, whispering, "Shh, gotta be quiet."

The sun’s not quite trickling in through the blinds; you’ve probably all napped past dinner. As always, there’s a week ahead of you, and now you’re aching, sore, exhausted and you can’t refuse her even a bit. It’s a tale as old as well, not that old, but you figure that’s how your Sundays spend you.

#wonyoung smut #yujin smut #ive smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #ive yujin smut #ive wonyoung smut

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