lessons in intimacy (k.ys)
summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.
note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol
warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome
pairings: yeosang x reader
genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???
word count: 14.5K
additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!
Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page.
Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content.
“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath.
Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it.
And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face.
You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you.
Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.
You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today.
Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more.
Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page.
His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.
Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month
Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month
Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month
In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess.
You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative.
The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry.
There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through.
There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt.
His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs.
You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already.
There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson.
Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.
Guided masturbation and encouragement.
There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.
You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’.
The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him.
“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,”
You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat.
“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,”
Your breath comes a little more quickly.
“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,”
Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him.
“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?”
You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand.
“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,”
He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already.
“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”
As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling.
You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?”
You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait.
“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?”
You smile again.
“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?”
The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot.
He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.”
You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open.
“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,”
Your chest thumps hard.
“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.”
Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention.
“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?”
You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady.
“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen.
“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.”
A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions.
“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?”
Fuck.
“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,”
“Fuck,” You whisper.
“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,”
You’re nodding again.
“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.”
Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs.
“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due.
“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,”
Your legs spread a little wider.
He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants.
“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing.
You love him like this.
“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,”
You pull it back reluctantly.
“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,”
You comply immediately.
“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,”
You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone.
“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,”
You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear.
“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,”
Your breath catches.
“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,”
A moan bubbles up out of you.
“Hands off.”
Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind.
“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,”
You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next.
“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,”
You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause.
“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,”
You follow his instructions.
“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,”
You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot.
“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?”
You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting.
“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”
Sweat drips down your chest.
His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,”
You don’t have to be told twice.
“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,”
A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back.
“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to.
“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,”
Pleasure rocks in your gut.
“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,”
You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it.
“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,”
“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling.
“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?”
Pressure drops in your belly.
“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,”
It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back.
“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.”
You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful.
You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you.
“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,”
He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can.
“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,”
The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,”
Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel.
“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,”
The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere.
“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,”
Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot.
“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,”
You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over.
“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,”
He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you.
It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes.
“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,”
For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you.
“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.”
You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you.
“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,”
You blush again.
“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,”
The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling.
You are so, so fucked.
After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat.
You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post.
You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company.
It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit.
You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day.
When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five?
You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall.
To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries.
The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention.
You step closer, only one person ahead of you now.
When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone.
“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here.
Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning.
“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering.
Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby?
You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found.
You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?”
You’re frozen.
“Miss?” A little crease between his brows.
“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,”
“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,”
You can’t say anything, your mind blanks.
His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?”
“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,”
“Iced or hot?” He asks.
Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me?
“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,”
“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,”
You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed.
He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest.
“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line.
He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,”
“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?”
“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,”
“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”
You shake your head, “No, first time,”
“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head.
“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,”
He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,”
“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?”
He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,”
You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer.
“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”
“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,”
Blush creeps up your neck.
“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head.
“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.”
“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?”
“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up.
It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,”
“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,”
“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,”
He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age.
“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella.
“Seven,”
“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”
He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,”
“Tomorrow,” You nod.
“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,”
Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,”
“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.”
Yeosang.
“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,”
“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,”
You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!”
Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,”
“See you again,”
He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer.
With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account.
Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual.
The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home.
On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening.
Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos.
He’s lovely.
Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something.
It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table.
“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?”
“The train,” You glance outside.
His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”
“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,”
“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,”
“Oh,”
“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?”
Flirting, then.
You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?”
He grins, “I’ve been trying to,”
Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,”
His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”
You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block.
Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits.
The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles.
You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?
You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns.
Do you tell him? Do you lie?
Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t.
On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking.
“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts.
“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.”
He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?”
You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes.
“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,”
“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?”
“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,”
“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?”
You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,”
“Recognized me?”
“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”
“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,”
“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,”
He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down.
It was so, so nice while it lasted.
“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,”
His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,”
His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,”
“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,”
You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire.
His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch.
“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,”
“Undrinkable?” You blink.
“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,”
“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?”
“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,”
“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait.
He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you.
“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,”
“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.
“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly.
He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?”
“No,” You tell him firmly.
“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you.
“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,”
He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,”
“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,”
“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.”
“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”
“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you.
“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,”
“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,”
“Oh,” You soften.
“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious.
You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,”
He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,”
“Right,” You murmur.
“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?”
“Anything,”
“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting.
“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.”
He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking.
“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,”
He nods and then says, “I have one more question,”
You wait, your stomach in knots.
“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks.
“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,”
“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.”
“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm.
“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,”
“Oh,” You nod, but he continues.
“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,”
“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,”
“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.”
You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes.
You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,”
He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening.
“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,”
A small smile appears on his lips.
“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,”
“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,”
Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?”
He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”
“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,”
“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”
“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,”
His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?”
You nod again.
“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?”
It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much.
“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.”
He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,”
You nod.
“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him.
You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,”
He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words.
“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.”
He nods once, his shoulders tense again.
“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”
He softens, “No, no I don’t,”
“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”
“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks.
“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,”
He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.
“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.”
“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.”
“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks.
“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,”
He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?”
He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,”
He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe.
His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday.
When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air.
“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?”
“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,”
“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.”
“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again.
“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?”
He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too.
“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,”
“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,”
You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him.
“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,”
“Right,” You blush darker.
“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?”
You nod quickly.
One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.”
You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time.
“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.”
The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs.
“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,”
“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,”
He smiles, “Those are your favorites?”
You nod.
“And the roleplay?” He asks.
“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,”
“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips.
You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,”
“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?”
You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,”
“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater.
“Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,”
“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan.
“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,”
The button opens.
“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,”
Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?”
You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons.
“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”
“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead.
He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,”
You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,”
He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly.
“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,”
You nod, “So good,”
“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,”
You’re close.
“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,”
“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right.
“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,”
“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,”
“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,”
“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,”
He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips.
You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,”
He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,”
“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming.
“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,”
A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple.
“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,”
His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge.
“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,”
“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.
Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move.
He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,”
His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise.
“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,”
You shiver, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,”
“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile.
As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,”
“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes.
“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,”
“So come inside me,” You smile.
The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,”
You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,”
“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,”
“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,”
He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,”
“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions.
“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?”
“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,”
“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh.
You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,”
“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?”
“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit.
“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands.
“Yes,” You answer quickly.
“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,”
“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.
“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,”
You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real.
Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real.
He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?”
“So good,” You sigh.
“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers.
“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you.
“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,”
“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble.
“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?”
“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body.
“Soon,” He promises.
You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit.
“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,”
“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,”
A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,”
“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,”
The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something.
It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor.
“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,”
“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,”
“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”
“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,”
He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing.
“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,”
Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight.
He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks.
“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,”
He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?”
You nod, still trying to catch your breath.
He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,”
You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,”
A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,”
“It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,”
“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair.
“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,”
You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,”
“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,”
You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,”
“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up.
You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,”
“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes.
“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss.
“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”
“I don’t know how I did it,”
He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,”
He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss.
“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,”
“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs.
“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you.
“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,”
“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?”
“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,”
He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs.
Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you.
“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants.
You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?”
“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet.
He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly.
You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he.
“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,”
You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed.
He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,”
You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him.
“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,”
You nod.
“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,”
You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire.
He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs.
His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you.
“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,”
He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,”
“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.
“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open.
“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust.
“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress.
“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low.
“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you.
“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,”
Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins.
His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?”
“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,”
“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,”
“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him.
“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?”
“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,”
“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,”
“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll.
He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips.
You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,”
He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer.
“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?”
All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together.
He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,”
Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan.
“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,”
You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin.
You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself.
“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,”
He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,”
The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively.
“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you.
With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side.
“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?”
“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion.
It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you.
“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,”
“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,”
He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly.
“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little.
“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”
“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock.
“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,”
A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest.
“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,”
Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,”
“Mm, yeah? Say that again,”
“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,”
“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now.
Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,”
“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,”
You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,”
“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises.
“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,”
He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips.
“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,”
“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet.
You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed.
He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble.
“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,”
Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good.
You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,”
“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours.
“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,”
“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,”
You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly.
“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,”
The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling.
“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,”
Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge.
You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock.
“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?”
Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,”
Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest.
It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,”
Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together.
“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees.
He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.
You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment.
You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open.
“Hey,” He murmurs.
“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”
He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,”
“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands.
“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you.
“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?”
He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,”
“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise.
“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,”
You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,”
He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?”
“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones.
“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water.
“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam.
“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you.
“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all.
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip.
Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap.
“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,”
You look up from the rippling water.
“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks.
You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,”
“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.”
“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand.
“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.”
“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together.
Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?”
“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little.
“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,”
“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,”
“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back.
You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,”
“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly.
“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,”
He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,”
“You like me,” You peck his lips.
“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,”
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HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)
Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later.
Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up.
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.
WORDCOUNT― 5.4k
PAIRING― jay x afab reader
CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.
NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!!
nsfw tags under cut:
nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show? What’s not to love about it?
There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire.
It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?
Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work.
To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage.
Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers?
You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard.
He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.
Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance.
Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.
He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status.
It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage.
In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday.
Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.
You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money.
This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.
You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.
Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see.
Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it.
It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does.
Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center.
You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits.
Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time.
Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.
Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves.
And, well, would you look at that.
You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you.
“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”
You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass.
“Jake, again?”
The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though.
“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe.
“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”
“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”
“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.”
Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out.
“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”
“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays.
“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good.
This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity.
Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.
“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even.
The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others.
The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.
Oh.
Jackpot.
“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?”
He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him.
“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him.
“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”
Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.
“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.”
With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with.
You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him.
The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips.
Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body.
Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it.
“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?”
Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night.
“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule.
He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap.
Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has.
You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face.
Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.
“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?”
He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.
“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him.
“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.
When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.
“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him.
He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.
“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.
Rules, rules, fucking rules.
Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.
You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper.
“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”
You didn’t expect him to nod back at you.
“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”
You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free.
The game is on now though, it seems, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out.
You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”
Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care.
“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile.
You smile at him, that half a mil is yours.
“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?”
Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it.
“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.
“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him.
When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win.
“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him.
“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?”
You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin.
“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.
“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?”
You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you.
“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”
Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.
“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.
Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.
You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.
Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks.
After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked.
Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it.
The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.
Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special.
You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching.
Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined.
“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him.
You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him.
“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment.
“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”
You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick.
“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.
When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you.
In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out.
His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in.
“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric.
You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice.
“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags.
You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face.
Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now.
You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.
And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.
He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.
His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.
“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.
“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture.
“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him.
Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker.
“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.”
You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back.
“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing.
And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls.
Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak.
“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”
He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you.
You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway.
If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked.
Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it.
The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again.
And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping.
And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)
By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.
“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.”
He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this.
You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you. He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do.
Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you.
“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”
“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”
Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held.
“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.
“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”
He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely?
“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.
“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.”
“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch.
Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.
“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”
“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door.
“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”
You watch him reach for the doorknob.
“Saturday?” You ask.
“Saturday.”
And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.
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