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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

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PARIS

male reader x sana minatozaki

30k words

"City's a shithole," you tell Sana, stepping out of a taxi. "Absolutely rotten."

"It is not a shithole."

"It is a shithole, Sana."

"You just got off the plane. Can we reserve judgement on Paris until we've seen the fucking place?"

(This is the one where you get over a fear of flying, of falling - and Sana's breeding kink goes a little further, gets a little more complicated - and neither of you give up much ground. It's an ordeal, that one. You really oughta stop surprising her in hotels.)

"Little known fact," Sana says to you near the beginning and looking for once a little less ethereally put-together, a bit more like she wants to go back to sleep. "St. Valentine was actually an incel who died in jail."

She's slumped onto your kitchen counter in a sweater several sizes too large - the one with your college crest, a hole in the armpit - and shorts, her long bare legs dangling above the tile.

"So, y'know."

And you haven't a fucking clue.

She shovels another spoonful of cereal into her mouth, "spending the holiday insufferably alone is something of an homage."

"What?"

"An homage," she crunches, happily.

Oh, you're charmed by her, have been for weeks now, and you chuckle despite yourself, pour her coffee while you're waiting for the toaster to finish. You've decided she's going to eat fruit today whether she wants to or not - it's barely breakfast if it's just a bowl of sugary carbs; and in a pair of fuzzy socks, a stolen crewneck, with last night's makeup still slightly smeared at the corners of her eyes and her hair mussed to shit, Sana makes you feel sorta responsible for her health. Your infatuation must be showing.

She lifts her chin, blinks lazily.

"I guess that makes us both artists by extension, or something," you say.

"Incels?" Sana snorts.

"No." Your toast pops. "Homage-payers."

You watch her mouth quirk around her spoon. "I kinda like that," she allows.

This morning, for the record, is only different than others in terms of superficial details - today Sana woke up with your hand cupped over her cunt, three fingers sinking slowly into her heat - annoyingly slow, the way she likes it least and best, depending on what she gets out of the teasing: her morning orgasm, in this case - and it was different enough that she moaned high and pretty, back arching as she squirmed on your palm, the sheets, whispering a delirious good morning against your jaw when her wits finally cohered into something more linear, understandable.

It's your new normal, sure: sleeping together - and its odd, comedy-forged counterpart, waking-up together.

It's eating breakfast, it's Sana stealing your clothes, sitting on your counters like breaking convention is some sort of biological imperative.

It's her legs wrapping around your waist while she kisses you soft and open-mouthed, leaving it to you to decide how much morning breath you can tolerate - and maybe that's a routine worth indulging, for a bit. At any rate: it's February 7th, which means there's this sword of Damocles hanging over your head that a whole financial system has been built around monetizing, a day people probably buy chocolates and flowers and write sonnets over - except Sana is jetsetting next week and you'll be spending February 14th in your apartment, possibly taking a shower, definitely sleeping in until noon, not being in love.

She's a once-in-a-generation talent, a gorgeous face, a fantastic fuck - this is just what's in the cards for you.

"You're going to miss me," says Sana, flat-out declaring it, threading her fingers beneath your chin, hooking her ankles loosely in the small of your back.

The cereal bowl clatters as you set it in the sink. "I might," you say, noncommittal, enjoying the way it makes her press further into your body, clinging tighter. "How long did you say this trip was going to be, again?"

"Oh, forever, maybe," Sana breezes, waving her other hand.

"You're gonna change your mind about the whole concept of romance and think about texting me within five, ten minutes of dropping me off at the airport. But then you won't actually do it, because you'll figure that I'm busy, and then you'll spend the rest of my flight kicking yourself for not sending me, like, an emoji, or something, and that it could've been enough to bridge the gap, and instead I'll be off somewhere all dolled-up and glamorous, probably surrounded by hot models, and that's when I'll meet someone new. I mean, there'll probably be no comparison to well, y'know-" She palms your crotch, fingers skating across the fabric. You recoil, almost scowl, and she snickers. "-but that's what happens when you don't text me. We're not in contact for one week and I replace you with a French man named Pierre. Or Jean. Jean-Pierre, honestly. If I were you, I'd play it safe and shoot me a Valentine's text."

"Wow." You push your thumbs under the hem of her shorts. "You got it in one, I think."

She shrugs, faux-modest. "Naturally. Jean-Pierre knows what's up."

You slip your hands up further and her expression shifts as you meet skin under the heavy fabric: all suggestion, no pretense. Sana sighs contentedly, leaning back onto her wrists so that you have to chase her, tilt your head to follow the movement. This is natural. She takes your lip between her teeth and sucks, gently. The angle puts a crick in your neck. You let her get away with it anyway, press further in between her thighs, spread them wide - and then she bites harder, the flesh of your bottom lip giving under her canines.

There's a spark there, it makes you want to pull her hair, kiss her harder, dig your fingers into her hips and leave bruises that'll last through the next couple weeks of international press junkets and glitter-eyed meetings with like-minded, like-pretty strangers. You're starting to suspect she's psychic - because she slides a hand up your shirt, letting her fingers skate over your stomach, the dip of your hips, the places that make you tick.

You clock the twitch in your pants, growing, filling. You've slept with this girl an awful lot. It's a problem.

"Possessive," is Sana's assessment, with all of the derision of a tease.

"Cool it," you warn her, sliding your grip up from her legs to her hips, pinning her solidly to the countertop. "I've got a full enough schedule this morning without you making a mess of things."

"Mmm, you don't." She's petulant, kissing you again and letting the touch linger on your bottom lip. It's a strong argument.

"I do," you try.

"You really don't," she says, sing-song, breathless with expectation, anticipating rough treatment.

Her smile is syrup-sweet, oozing indulgence: the sight of her sprawled beneath you is a pure profligate pleasure. Like she's an apple you stole fresh from the orchard, red and shiny and dripping juice down your forearm, dribbling sticky on the grass, rotted with temptation. You wonder if she's always been this way - begging to be held down, fucked hard, edged beyond the realm of possibility - and recently her appetite for filth seems endless, like she's come into a taste for it. Sana Minatozaki doesn't often say no.

For all intents and purposes, your answer should be a given.

"Well," you drawl, thumbing the soft cotton of her shorts, that spot just above the waistband, where her inner thigh meets the crease of her pelvis and you can make her voice go to velvet. "Did you say he died in prison?" You pull away from her a bit, switching tactics, letting the subject slide from bedroom talk to regular breakfast chatter. "Of what, heartbreak?"

"You'd think," she says, almost curt, irritated at the prospect of edification and sorely lacking a good fuck. It's a pleasant mood to find her in - very manageable, easier if you slip your tongue between her legs, though still relatively straightforward. "It turns out the dude got beaten to death with clubs, then beheaded; hence the martyrdom bit, which I think is fair. Pretty metal death to warrant sainthood."

"Seems a little redundant."

"So does giving a holiday to people who are already, like, super in love or whatever, but." She gathers her hair off her neck - lets it fall, satisfied. "I guess romanticism and pragmatism are just mutually conclusive."

"Exclusive," you correct, lightly.

"What'd I say?"

You exchange looks: it's definitely something you've already joked about before. It's easy, like the rest of your dynamic. Sana smiles, slow-burn, and all you can do is try and one-up her: you shrug, sigh, like there's a lot to consider.

Her fingers work open one of the buttons on the front of your shirt, hover on the one beneath it - her patience is dwindling.

"Fine," you relent, rolling your eyes, feigning reluctance. "But we need to be quick about it. Fifteen minutes, twenty max. Then I absolutely need to leave and go sit silently in a room doing jackshit for eight hours."

Sana kicks you lightly in the shins. "Let me get on top, and we'll have time to cuddle, too."

"No dice," you tell her. The negotiations continue, as they always do. "Face-down-ass-up, princess. You can clean up the kitchen afterwards."

"Ugh. You're gross," she says, as you help her down from the countertop, maneuver her toward your room with one wrist tucked firmly in your palm, already rucking up her sweater to skim your fingertips along her ribs. Sana goes easy, her joints loose, willing to bend. "And annoying. And unaccommodating. You're totally wasting my last few days in town."

"I know. I'm sorry about it," you respond, stepping behind her up the stairs, her fingers gliding gently up the rail.

"Liar." She shoots you a half-smile, laughing with no bite behind it. You think, just a bit, that she'd let you get away with just about anything - that is to say, she'd get off on a great many things: you'd let go of your own guilt, just for a moment. For someone so hot and cold with her control, it'd be easy to slide the pendulum to the other side. Maybe she'd beg for it, and it'd sound real: a small part of you thinks she's close enough already. Sana tosses a smirk over her shoulder and your mouth goes dry. "But i'm sure you will be," she tells you, her gaze somehow already unfocused. You suppose all the daydreaming is beginning to affect her too. "In, like, four and a half minutes, give or take. Probably closer to four."

"Careful, Sana," you intone, pitching low; it's like warning a child not to touch an open stove. "Your ass gets red fast."

Sana wiggles her eyebrows in an endearingly ridiculous way - you can't believe this is the girl getting checks from all these designer brands - and twists your way for a second, pressing a soft kiss to the hollow of your neck.

"Promises, promises." She bats those unequivocally long lashes up at you. "You better know I'll hold you to 'em."

In any case, she was right: St. Valentine got fucking wrecked. It's the whole morning's lesson. Maybe there's something to be said for dying in a spectacular way, one so fantastically morbid that it has to have happened in another era.

Sana gets on top, sorta, in spite of any negotiations; Sana kisses you stupid; Sana talks nonsense while you eat her out; Sana cums when you get two fingers deep inside her ass and slam her cunt full of another, curling the tip of tongue right across her clit. She goes easily from her knees to bracing herself against the headboard; and you follow her up the mattress when she scoots forward so you can fuck her with her back flush against your chest, head tossed on your shoulder, throat arched so she can choke out sounds you've never heard from anyone, ever. She's not a screamer, but she makes these high, keening noises when she's close - when you're giving her just the right pace, the right rhythm, the right depth - and you lean back on your heels, slap her ass, pinch her hip, "make me cum, baby," and god, her pussy grips down on you greedily, hungrily, swallows every inch and fucks you back until the condom swells full, deep inside her heat.

"You." You say it like it's a half-formed threat, kissing her sweaty, satiny shoulder, nosing the bra strap barely clinging to her skin. "Are such an insufferable cocktease."

"That's me," she quips, out of breath, entirely too pleased.

It's such a familiar refrain now, her elbow bent back, hand trailing your neck, head tipped - she sinks her fingers into your hair and holds you against her pulse where it jumps sporadically under her skin. You flip her around - somewhat elegantly, somewhat not - nestle her soft, creamy thighs over your hips, warm your cock inside of her as she falls back from the clouds, pressing your hand to the tightness of her waist - she wasn't exaggerating: there's time to spare, to kiss her like a movie ending, and to come up smiling.

It's not just all the risky, illicit sex and reckless abandon already in play: it's also the entire lexicon and etymology of fated ends, of doomed sentiment - each verb conjugated twice and three times and five times over. She's got the filthiest parts of your imagination reined in with that face alone, like you're drowning in divinity; this is a girl so pristine and peerless and utterly without vice, staring up at you from underneath mascara-dusted lashes, waiting for her own devastation - always daring you to indulge her.

"You think you're corrupting me," Sana laughs in your ear, serenely, almost self-aware. "Is that it?"

"Well," you start, and there's a self-reflection somewhere in there - your fingertips on her jaw, her heartbeat in the hollow of her throat. The skin's so impossibly soft. Fragile. "It's a thought."

She lifts a shoulder, smiles lazily. Her mouth has that permanent imprint of sin, somehow simultaneously a crime scene and a place of worship.

"Baby," she drawls, all sugar-sweet. "I'm sure that's a given. I was such a good girl before I met you."

"Yeah," you reply, nipping the hinge of her jaw. "Such a sweetheart. So well-behaved."

"I'll take it."

Sana rolls the condom off of you, sitting cross-legged on your bed as you fold a pillow in half and prop yourself up, watching her do her thing.

She’s got so much control like this - wringing the thick mess out into her palm, then sitting back onto her calves. With two fingers and her thumb, she pinches at it, lets it drip back down. A beat later, she makes another string, decides she's all for swallowing today. That's an art. And it's mesmerizing, the way she concentrates with delicate precision, tipping her chin up and staining her lips, her tongue diligently slipping through the spaces between her knuckles.

"You're really cute," you inform her, and she flushes while licking up the rest - you love it, the little contradictions. "But that is filthy."

“Could’ve been inside me instead,” she muses, casually. She’s just testing it out, rolling the syllables on her tongue.

You raise your eyebrows. “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” repeats Sana, quietly. She reaches forward, runs her thumb along your slit, a little lower - just a semi-circle of pressure. Yeah, you’re still achingly hard. She eyes you and her focus shifts; she seems to come to a conclusion, nods her head once; this girl, really, with all her unpredictable tempers. She takes the length of you in her hand, a loose, idle grip, more to be playful than sexy. It works both ways, apparently: your eyes roll up at her, and you suppress a gasp, grabbing hold of the pillow.

It's those dreamy, half-lidded eyes, glazed over and vapid - ah, the total and utter loss of any brain capacity. Something like a prelude to the sweet surrender; Sana does the drooling part for you.

“You wanna go again?” you ask her, and this is another bit: the whole I-say-one-thing-and-do-the-other game, the winding, unwinding tension.

When she wants something, she talks to you like she'd burn a church down for you, then tuck her arm right into yours like the fire doesn't exist in the first place - Sana blinks prettily up at you, strikes the match behind her back. For her part, she doesn’t lie as often as she could, as often as you would expect her to; in the beginning, at least, you assumed she was a bad liar, a good flirt, that kind of contradiction.

If you didn't know better, you'd fall head over heels.

"Or are you just stroking me off because you like the way it feels in your hands?" you go on. You'd like to find out, actually.

Sana smirks, and slides her palm lower, gets a second hand involved, slow and steady - the friction is aching, fantastic. "Aren't you supposed to be working?” she asks, twisting both. You could cum again, but maybe you shouldn't. "Is this really how we spend all our time?"

“How conscientious of you,” you say, drily, and she laughs before tucking her hair behind her ear, kneeling on the sheets and bringing her lips to the end of you, letting her spit run down the head and catching it with her knuckles; just once, she licks. Then, twice. Okay, well - you could probably afford to stay away a while longer. In theory. Three times, four times - oh, her mouth is hot and silky and there's really no way around it.

You grab your phone, shoot off an email or two, and slip your fingers into her hair.

Sana's someone you know from work, in a real roundabout sort of way. That's the whole sordid story.

You've got the cushy office job, the creative credentials, she's art, the product; and the optics surrounding that means you're supposed to never, ever lay a finger on her; oils mixing like they shouldn't - the finished, the half-baked, the polished to a gleam versus the raw unvarnished clay; but she'd wandered into the employee-only elevator and said good morning with that smart, sarcastic little voice and you'd turned around, thinking of some entitled manager in the process of haranguing you - only it wasn't a suit-and-tie corporate climber, oh, no, no-

"Hey," you said, too stunned for eloquence, too dumbstruck for wit.

Because here's a perfect, pouty-lipped princess, dressed like an angel and grinning like she's ready to rob a bank; like the moon landing and Shakespeare rolled into one, fantasy and classic literature and a pastel linen shirt, with what felt like half the buttons undone.

You blinked, remembered to breathe.

"Hi." She tipped her head and let a curtain of copper-spun hair slide off one shoulder. Took a slow, appraising sip of her iced-coffee. "You're new. Or - new to me, at least."

The doors shut, and suddenly there was no going back.

The signs are there. Four different conditioners on the bath rack, her lotion on the bathroom counter, her shaving cream next to the soap. She prefers peppermint to vanilla. And date night takes a turn from red wine to ramen; you'll end up on your couch watching crime documentaries because Sana will hook her fingers into the loops of your jeans, saying, can't we just, like, stay in?

This morning, too: her hand clings around your forearm a little longer when you kiss her goodbye and help her find the shoes she's wearing home, make her promise to return your sweatshirt soon.

But you know that if anyone asked, Sana'd shrug and laugh, say I dunno, it's not really anything at all.

You're hooking up. You're being idiots - this whole thing, from the very start of it, was so off-the-rails, so questionable. You remind yourself she's never met anyone she didn't like.

She doesn't think about consequences, and she certainly won't start with you. You figure things will fester, get murky and muddled and frustrating - and the worst part isn't how she's ruining you for anyone else; it's how you're going to miss the idea of her, the impossible promise. She's living the glamour, the ceaselessness, the adventure. It's all planned out. She'll keep living her life this way until she doesn't. It's an occupational hazard.

And she won't pay it any attention once some Jean-Pierre becomes her next hot, enigmatic, incomprehensible, asshole genius plaything - hypothetically speaking.

(Or maybe he'll be the first one to really, really figure her out, and that's the more disconcerting thought.)

So you're just...you don't even know what you are, frankly. Friends who text? Sure, whatever: that makes sense. You can cling to that. It's the most sensible explanation so far.

Sana: i was promised an apology text (´;︵;`)

Sana: the pregnant man emoji seems wildly inappropriate given the circumstances

You, at ten fifteen in the morning on February 8th: i'm in a staff meeting, first of all.

You've been getting nonsensical, arbitrary stuff since, like, October: grocery lists, links to memes, notes on things she remembers in the shower. Occasionally, it's horny stuff - a water droplet emoji, the wink, and the peach; then a photo of her skirt lifted in the mirror and her naked ass in a pair of heels - and occasionally, you oblige it.

You: second, I don't want this to come off as arrogant or anything, but I didn't realize you think about me the minute you wake up

Sana: um, soooo arrogant lol wtf

Sana: but also ur not wrong, im desperate for some relief <333

You: poor, pitiful baby 🙄

You: go find miyeon

Sana: she's ignoring my calls

Sana: just send something nasty please PLEASE 😭

Sana: tell me how hard i make you

You: i'm in a meeting, sana.

Sana: I WILL RIOT.

Sana: jk don't tell me. i'm just looking at pics of us rn and i'm going to die.

Sana: (send a dick pic u coward)

She sends you a heart. And an eggplant. Then the tongue.

You: I'll see what I can do

She follows up with: thank u thank u god bless <3

Oh, it's dangerous, working in the same office, dealing in all that proximity - even with the floors between you.

You're constantly resisting the urge to slide by, to try and catch a glimpse, to find excuses to bump into her in the hallway, listen to her talk, say hi. So maybe you're a sucker for the devil, or maybe it's all just because she's Sana, and she's a vision in a pencil skirt, a beauty with her legs crossed and her chin tipped high; or it's worse: you'll catch her in yoga pants, hair mussed and shiny with sweat as she flits from practice room to practice room, to get water, to take a phone call, to rub chapstick over her mouth - the daydreams write themselves.

But it's not like you know any details of her job other than, 'singer' or 'professional tease' or the occasional tangential reference. She never really talks about work.

You walk through the halls, eyes flitting around every corner; there's a standing appointment, of sorts, and it has been for the past month, maybe longer - you've got your doubts that today will break the streak. You've never actually agreed to meet her; it's sorta an unspoken understanding, and you find her exactly where you thought you might, after you've made a loop around the seventh floor, wandered as slowly as humanly possible - as if stalling could stop you from inevitably descending the same stairwell you do every time. It's an awful, terrible descent and it's gonna get you both fired - or killed, if her manager finds you first. It's a miracle you're still here.

Sana's leaning against the railing, flipping through her phone; when she hears your approaching footsteps she looks up and meets your eyes. Smirks.

"Ms. Minatozaki," you say, like this is a high school and she's one of the tardies you can't stop calling out.

It's the nth time this has happened, and you have to know she comes looking for you, too.

"So," she drawls, standing and sweeping all her hair up off her neck, clipping it like it's habitual, and the way her hands rest at your waist is a scandal in itself. The watch on her dainty pale wrist glitters in the fluorescent lights, slides down her forearm as she pushes her sleeves past her elbows. You're not really thinking about things like propriety, restraint; Sana's very good at convincing you to shed all pretense of ethics, morals. You're slave to the thousand-kilowatt smile, the short skirts and thigh-high boots and every calculated display of skin. This girl has her agenda written plain on the walls and you've made it known in ten different languages: it's one hell of a view, and it's impossible not to stare.

"You here to escort me somewhere?" asks Sana, in a way that sounds vaguely dirty - which it is. "Need to go looking for pens again?"

She takes a step closer, presses a palm flat to your chest; hums a low, delighted sound.

"Or you could bend me over the railing and stuff me right here." Sana tilts her chin and squints upwards, assessing the metalwork. She drops her gaze, presses her fingertips to the knot of your tie; and then, a show of pity or mercy, drags her eyes back to your face, pretty lashes blinking slow. "Wouldn't be complaining."

"I really wish you could hear yourself sometimes, sweetheart."

"Trust me, it's been on my mind all morning," she confesses, all soft, wicked intimacy. "Distracting me. I doubt you want me keeping it to myself, either."

"No," you admit. "You've got that right."

Her fingers toy with your top button, pop it open. You grab her wrist, stop her, gentle and warning. Her hand goes limp in your grasp, acquiescing easily; this is the part where she likes it, getting pulled back on the right side of polite. "You should kiss me," says Sana.

Like she has to. Like this girl, rich and famous and inexplicably out of your league, a glamorous songbird living high up in her nest, and still wanting for the little taste of heaven she thinks she can steal away from you in dark corners

"Where?" You're playing, and the moment you brush your mouth over hers, the second her breath meets your lips, you've gone and forgotten all your prior reservations about fucking her at work. You let go of her wrist, allow her hand to wander lower, unbuttoning, dipping past the waistband of your pants. She slides her palm beneath the material of your underwear, tugs them just low enough that her slim, small fingers can encircle the base of your cock.

"Anywhere," Sana decides, and kisses the answer into your mouth, sighing into it - enough to pull you under, to submerge and suffocate.

It's funny; she smiles like she's the heroine of your life story, like the storybook star on the cover of an epic, or an infallible leading lady - like someone to love, like someone to admire and aspire to. Or maybe it's a touch sinister: her eyes sparkle and your worldview snaps a little sideways, just to accommodate her; she could be the villain all the same - not your protégée, not the good girl, not an angel or a miracle. There's your poison, and it's in her blood - it's a flashpoint of pure greed, and Sana doesn't need a mirror. She knows every single sin.

You drop your hand from her hair, the pretense, and give in: the railing creaks a quiet noise of protest as she wrenches her ass against the unforgiving steel, and then she's arching into your body, sighing again; it's a sound you've committed to memory, ingrained it, the sweet taste, the sharpness of her exhale when your hand wanders high up the hem of her skirt.

"Anywhere?"

"Sure," breathes Sana, fingers spidering further into your open zipper.

It's so incredibly risky, it's bad practice, not to mention illogical: the stairwell is a public, communal space, no escape, nowhere to hide - there's only seven floors to the building, seven opportunities for someone to stumble in, and none of these numbers are in your favor.

"I'll be quiet," she mutters, lips ghosting along your jaw. "I promise." She knows that's not what you're concerned with, but you appreciate the thoughtfulness; oh, who's fooling who? "We can just-" Her hips hitch up and press firm against yours. "-see where it goes."

And, well - you have the rest of your career to be responsible, probably. Professional, obedient and boring and ethical and so many other useless terms you could drag up and wave in the face of the fact Sana's fucking gorgeous. She's holding back from giving you the full-on pout, but just barely - you catch the shadow of it on her lips; the thinly concealed ache, the pretty agony. She kisses you like she's not gonna breathe until the second after you're inside her - then that's that, like some sorta ritual. A tradition, an instinct, it's a swan-song for every shred of decorum she's begging to burn up.

You hoist her, balance her on the railing. When your grip tightens, she shuffles forward, draws her legs up a little - that's the key, letting her settle just right: the end of the world could come now and she'd still feel fucking divine, pussy dripping through her underwear straight onto the crotch of your pants - there's a wet spot now, you can feel it on the side of your thigh where you've got a fistful of her skirt scrunched, rolled up above her thighs, all bare creamy skin, something to remember this by: her in the height of perfection, full of good intentions and eager to fall apart.

"Panties," you tell her, palm up, hand held out.

"You're fucking crazy," she exhales, but she's fiddling with her waistband and shifting on her ass in seconds - they're tangled around her boots - you're a goner from the start, it's like your soul leaves your body with a wet little snick. "Get - get them off," and it sounds so sweet in her voice, whining, ragged - not that it was in any danger but her own breath renders her resolve for composure pointless.

"Your little cunt's dripping," you note, with your hand cupping it, two fingers teasing along her soaked slit; no part of the conversation has ever needed to go in circles with Sana, or anyone else. You just sort of lean into it. "Been wanting me since you got dressed, huh."

"Your fault," she tells you, nose sliding over yours, seeking affection. "Explicitly. Never got those pictures out of my head."

"Um," you say, slipping into another finger, because she's hot and slick and insatiable and the friction will melt her right to goo - you think Sana's orgasms might be getting a little violent, these days. You're more inclined to inspire them. "I didn't actually send you anything provocative."

"See?" She grins at you, breathless. "Here lies my problem."

"Such a hard life." You crook your fingers a little deeper; Sana collapses against you, a flower drooping from too much rainwater. "Such a burden, being you, hm?"

"So I'm the issue in this scenario," she mutters, pushing back into your hands, squeezing her thighs. "Causing problems, all by myself, sluttly-little-me."

"I never said that."

"You called me a fucking cocksleeve, the other night."

"Sana."

"Which is absolutely correct. Like. One hundred percent. But don't act like you don't get off on it."

"Well," you say, innocuous: stroke up inside of her, stretch, reach - crook - and there's a breathy moan in your ear. "So do you."

"Shut up," she says, "this is about your inability to compartmentalize," and her cunt is so slick that it makes a delicious, lewd squelching sound as your fingers dip and curl in further, the walls of her pussy clenched tight, suffocating your skin - every time you roll a condom over your cock and sink inside her you do have to wonder if it's really, genuinely necessary.

"Wanna cum?" you ask, deflecting a bit, and stroke her with intent, relishing the way her little pink mouth drops open to exhale.

"Gotta be better than getting psychoanalyzed by a guy who has my fucking panties in his pocket," she grits out, hips rolling to the tempo of your fingers, now scissoring apart. You're only touching her cunt and still she moves against you like you've been railing her for hours - you think she's so wet you might hear it down the hall, down the street. "Might be a good tradeoff. Maybe." Then, more resolutely: "Fuck. Yes. Please."

It's hard to take her seriously like this, with her pretty features drawn up, all the facets of a statue rendered beautifully human, transient, falling apart in the pleasure. In moments like these, Sana looks most ethereal; when your thumb's fast on her clit and you croon compliments and the sweetest-bittersweet filth in her ear until her whole body becomes liquid-fire, sloppy and hot, desperately keening.

"On my fingers?" you ask, because maybe you're a lot like Sana: an insufferable tease.

You slip your fingers down to the next knuckle and curl it up against the slick heat, deep, until she's making soft, whimper-like sounds, brow furrowing in focus, straining for release, and Sana can't even look you in the eyes, too far gone already, lost in this. "Or," and here's the dangerous part - "I could get on my knees and eat this pussy until you can't see straight." You're dangerously close to taking the panties from your pocket and sliding the lace under her tongue just so you could see how pretty she looks like that, huffing, groaning, eyes flickering shut at the sensation - not the actual taste of herself, but just the way it's so undignified.

She looks pretty at any angle, any moment - you wonder if you can fuck it into her so she'll always know it's true: the kind of egomaniacal narcissism Sana might get off on. It seems appropriate.

Sana just hums at this, arching a delicate brow, considering.

"How about you give me your mouth and watch me fuck the hell out of it, hm?"

"Mildly threatening, but okay." You take one hand, smooth over her ribs until it's cupping the slope of her jaw, and draw her gaze upward, until she's staring into your eyes. "You always taste like a godsend - could get addicted to it, probably, baby - would you wanna ruin my throat? Make me drool all over you? Turn it into a little fucking mess, just the way you like?"

The sound she makes then is unearthly, somewhere between a moan and a groan. A reverb.

You know it's out of hand because you've started using the same euphemisms she does - breeding her, ruining her tight little pussy, stretching it out nice and full. Getting a second opinion, then a third and a fourth. It's a little crass for your typical repertoire, but she makes the sweetest, most ruined noises at that. You're an equal opportunist, and her whiny submissiveness is just as good - maybe a little less effortless. More demanding: there's always the feeling she's lording it over you.

"No, really." You're stroking your fingers in solid, even thrusts as you speak: gentle, measured, nowhere near enough. "You're fucking soaked," you remark, the corner of your mouth tilted up. "Like you can't stand not having something inside you, huh?"

"Something big," she grits out.

You laugh a little, amused. She's practically leaking down the heel of your hand.

"The problem is," breathes Sana, swallowing once, twice, eyelashes flicking lower, her cheek pliable in your palm and her nails scraping gently against the hair at the nape of your neck - she's dissolving. She's all yours to own, consume, to make cum. She's drenched and warm and perfect and there's a whine threaded through every expletive. She always likes things better when you're nastier to her; it's probably fucked up. Everything is, and it's Sana - so that should go without saying. "Fuck - whatever - please. Just-"

You laugh again, and the noise twists a little meaner this time in Sana's ear.

"C'mon," you say. "Tell me about this - about my issues. Your ideas. How badly you're gonna, what was it, destroy my life, I think? Just talk while I go down on you. Might help take the sting out of it." You pause. "Or make it all the more worse, really."

Sana whimpers, broken, liking the sound of that, judging by the way her cunt drips, swollen and fluttering and you can feel her pulsing against your fingertips.

"I'll tell you if you start to go in the wrong direction," says Sana, petulant and lovely as ever. "How's that - how's? Oh, my fuck-"

Sana's words drop off. It's well-warranted. You're hungry for her, insatiable; you sink down to the floor, get your mouth on her pretty little aching cunt and that's sorta how this always starts.

She gasps out and tangles her fingers in your hair, fucks her cunt against your tongue and cries out like this isn't a scandal.

You pray to god no one comes for a smoke, for the breeze to cool them off: because nobody needs to know how thoroughly you ruin the company's golden goose, their pristine girl-next-door, pop-sweet baby-princess. You pray because she's going to cum like the rest of your brain won't remember it tomorrow, like every teary-eyed scream won't stick to your lips like static.

Your tongue moves, pressing harder to her clit; she rides your face. Grinds down your lips while your gaze remains rapt, transfixed.

You won't blink, won't look away for even a moment. Not when Sana's falling apart above you: a complete fucking mess, a spitfire and a divinity and a filthy-wet-dream in heels, panting so hard that you're gonna need an excuse. That everyone's gonna see you've done it, broken the perfect facade and left her absolutely mangled. It's fucking obscene the sounds she's making. High, aching whines, squelch, wettened suction; her fingers tearing through your scalp; those god damn lip-gloss-flavored moans - they echo on your neck and chest, run down and through your rib-cage. They land in your gut and rest heavy and stale, ruminant, too thick. Sweet and molasses and unbearable, all stuck inside your throat. Fuck, fuck. She cums; there's your paycheck in the line of her body, arched into an acute, cataclysmic peak, an upstretched needle to pierce the surface.

It's a moment in a crystal-clear shot, one you'll try and lock in the bank, the hallows, your mind.

She's beautiful, obviously: in the aftermath, ragged, inelegant - you figure it's the fact that the poor thing's so damned unused to being fucked, has gone on for all her teenage years, then her early adulthood, barely scraping a few fingers, a low buzz of some unremarkable toy; no - she's used to the admiration. The flattery. The rapture and praise.

But you doubt anyone's made a thorough wreck, a beautiful slobbering, sloppy mess - and who would? She's worshiped like she's an icon. Some half-baked notion of reverence, like she's holy. An angel in the wrong hands - oh, the imagery's much too flimsy. Fawning. Unending, untethered; you might be a sucker, but you wonder when you'll meet the next guy in her rotation, and, not wanting to spend much thought on him, wonder instead about Sana and her subterfuge.

You've wondered on and off why the hell she chose you.

"You don't deserve that," says Sana, after, a little breathless but otherwise unfazed and smug, like it isn't a big fucking deal to talk back to you while your jaw is still covered in her slick.

"Pretty sure I do." You wipe at your mouth, come up closer to her again. "Seemed like it helped."

"I have a whole monologue prepared," says Sana, a touch irritated - ah, well, she might be spoiled after all. "It wasn't easy to put together. The idea of you fucking me is kind of distracting, just for the record."

"Sweet of you, baby."

"Oh, fuck off," says Sana, promptly.

You smile. It's charming and cheeky and Sana blushes, suddenly off her game. "I'm serious," she says, scrambling back to her point. "You deserve nothing for leaving me alone and miserable and not showing up for ages. You're so - I'm mad at you."

"Oh," you say, and raise an eyebrow, mock-horrified. You kiss her bare, sweat-sticky neck, trace a finger from her navel down past her hips. Sana shivers. "I had no idea."

It's just Sana's axiomatic response: all snark and sass and sly one-liners until you've got your finger against her clit, and then all at once she's begging, sobbing, falling to pieces, whining your name like it's a mantra. She doesn't give a damn about your apology now. The state of your relationship has hardly progressed - but it doesn't matter. It's only the sex, the endless hours spent with Sana's thighs bracketing your head, her lipstick imprinted on your throat, the red lines she paints over your shoulder blades. It's only that. Sana's cunt, clenching and raw from orgasm and soaked like you can never fill her up: dripping, drooling.

And, okay. Yeah, maybe you didn't show up when she asked you to, didn't listen. You admit it. She's needy every second, craves praise and your cock in equal measure - but you are guilty.

(What's that she said earlier - that you didn't deserve it? Right.)

You aren't really in a position to say shit about being ignored either, so.

Sana has you pegged to her whims: she doesn't have to do a damn thing, she just breathes and has you around her finger.

Well - actually, she's very proactive. She likes making demands. Well, really: she wants things.

It's February 9th, for anyone keeping track - the shortest month of the year and the one with a few more grey days in the bank than the others, which makes sense since you're deep into the heart of winter by then. On December 28th you and Sana had spent nearly three hours on the phone discussing the latest installment of this netflix miniseries of very questionable quality. There were a lot of different points to be made, apparently: you think both of the leads are, objectively, fairly attractive, but Sana wouldn't admit she had a crush on the lead until you got to the third season.

Anyway, she was upset on her birthday because of it.

"Happy new year, by the way," you told her, somewhere in the middle of the call. Sana had to speak quietly so her parents wouldn't hear, but she sounded kind of moody. "How are you gonna celebrate?"

"My ex," Sana groaned, ignoring the question completely, "made fun of my taste in guys. Like, my type or whatever."

You cocked your head. "And what is your type?"

"Oh, you know," she said, dismissive. "Hot." You laughed, and then she said, "A little less old and a little more muscular," and that shut you up, quick. Sana hesitated.

"Shit," you said.

"Shit," she agreed. "I really, really like you, though." And then:

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And you've been kinda done for ever since.

Right, okay. You get sidetracked, easily. It's a running gag. Sana gives you shit for it, but then again she gives you shit for a lot of things.

On February 9th, evening leaking through a skyline cracked open and gushing like an oil spill, and the stars dripping silver - auspicious, potentially, on Sana's side - she turns up at the door of your apartment, tapping snow from her boot-clad feet, mouth tight.

"It's fucking freezing," she snaps at you, as a greeting - the hello goes unsaid. You open the door wider and she sweeps past, takes a glance around like she owns the place. You should have known - in hindsight.

Work was fine but felt lengthy. Sana shot photos for some designer brand you'd never heard of and felt pretty proud of the day's accomplishments. She talks your ear off about it while you lean against the counter and nod attentively, put water on to boil and think about getting a fish, a dog, maybe a plant; you haven't quite figured it out. Sana might have opinions about it all.

You make tea for both of you. It's this rose hibiscus thing that supposedly soothes the mind. It was a gift from a coworker at some point. Or maybe it was going to be a gift to a coworker and you just never got around to sending it; either way, it had a bow and everything. At some point in time, when someone received it, there was a bow involved. You'll work out the details - at the very least, you'll say the explanation was very elaborate and poignant, and it'd get Sana smiling. She'd trace your hand, thumb skimming your knuckles. All of a sudden you'd be sitting across a small table, talking and talking as a stream of conversation ebbed and flowed; you'd think about the stars in the sky, like blood in water. You'd kiss her neck and tell her you're not tired, ask her if she'll stay the night - it would be easy.

"So he's a total prick," finishes Sana, chin in one of her palms, blowing over the lip of the mug, "but at least he's good with a camera. Otherwise, I swear I would've left the label years ago."

"Wow," you say. You weren't paying attention.

"Mhmm," she continues.

You blink at her, slightly disoriented.

"I was talking for like, twenty minutes. You should have noticed."

"Were you," you say mildly, "seriously? Shit. I'm sorry. I guess I tuned out, just - went somewhere else."

"Huh." Sana leans on her arm. There's a lacy white ribbon tied in her warm, amber hair. It suits her, matches the gauze-thin chiffon sleeves of her sweater, the floaty skirt she's wearing, dark gray tights adorning her legs - a cossack blouse, maybe, would describe it. She's so fashionable, all the time, like it comes from the tips of her fingers, unbidden and instinctive. It makes sense; Sana's a muse for the finer things in life, all light and lovely like gold. Like - rose quartz, the blush of dawn. It's an indescribable sort of attractiveness - the kind that is rooted in her mind, in her character.

You're glad she hasn't made you spell this sentimentality out.

"Do you have a secret girlfriend you need to be confessing to?"

"I ran into Momo earlier," you say instead, which - bad timing, maybe. Sana's bright-eyed, brow lifted, curious.

"Where?" she asks.

"That cafe place. The one by the second-hand shop she likes. Near the theater."

"I've never been to a movie with you," she remarks, instead of pointing out that your explanation could apply to like, twenty places around the city alone. "Is it because you'd rather die than be seen with me in public? Like, are you worried I'm ruining your reputation?"

She's playing. Obviously. The script here is flipped: you're the secret fling, the casual affair, the quick fuck that isn't meant to mean anything, no strings attached - but maybe the implication in Sana's question is that she'd consider it otherwise. She'd like to go to the movies, or out to dinner. Somewhere crowded. Not exactly an ideal date, but you could see it on her. You want to take her places. Maybe you already do, anyway.

You roll your eyes. "Right," you say.

"Does she know?" Sana taps her bottom lip. "About us."

"Yeah," you say, too quickly.

Sana makes a face. "How? When?"

"She's your roommate," you explain, kind of at a loss. "And - you talk to her. I figured. How could she not know?"

"Dude," says Sana.

"Is this gonna be one of those moments where you pretend to be way angrier about something than you actually are?"

"Obviously, yes." Sana tilts her mug toward you in accusation. "What'd she say?"

"She asked if we were dating."

"What'd you say?"

"No," you say. "And then she asked if I wanted to be, and then I ran into traffic, like, literally, to escape."

"Do you," begins Sana, in her best innocent voice. "Or don't you?"

She looks delighted. You stare at her flatly. "Ask Momo," you tell her, and she dissolves into that creased-eye smile that sends all your faculties reeling. The gorgeous little tri-tone of laughter and her fingers combing through the silky length of her hair - she's still teasing you. You've figured out the steps, memorized the way this game moves forward. It's an indulgence and it's an obsession - and it's the same thing for you as well, really.

"Can't," she says, still laughing. "She'll lie on your behalf."

You have no clue what that means - but you guess that's just Sana.

So here's an inflection point, right before Valentine's day, because you have terrible timing - right before Sana ships out to Bruges, or Milan, or wherever the fuck it is for Fashion Week: you'll only catch a few days, maybe less, before she jets again for some other assignment. It's part of how her job works, and the situation's all roundabout, because she's probably spending the holiday eating French toast with a model and waiting in an airport, watching the world go by from the plane. So, sort of backwards. You should get the bouquets and heart-shaped boxes and share a plate of pasta, you suppose - but the main thing here is you'll only get a weekend. Then you won't even see her in person until the 28th.

Or not at all. Whatever the outcome - maybe she'll stand you up and have her revenge for you being so goddamn difficult and antagonistic in the first place. Who knows. Not you.

She's studying her reflection in your bathroom mirror, tying off an elaborately loose bun, pulling some curls free, working around the headband that she seems hell-bent on keeping in her hair, in case you should ever forget she's a total living doll. A pair of shorts reveals the creamy expanse of her thighs; she doesn't have a bra under her tank top. Your mind wanders.

"You look fine," you say, yawning, elbow to the sink's countertop.

The sound of the shower running is white noise in the background, droning away, and the door's cracked ajar so steam wafts into the hall. Sana doesn't spare you a glance, focused as she is on arranging herself back to magazine-cover perfection.

And it's not unreasonable: you've seen in her high heels and on runways, with cameras flashing, with a toned physique and carefully sculpted makeup and hair to match - but you think there's an authenticity here, the clothes she keeps in a bin above your dresser that have somehow mixed themselves in with a tube of mascara and a stick of deodorant, a set of bristled hairbrushes - the toiletry bag from her makeup case. If you were a more emotionally intelligent and honest man, perhaps you'd say something to the effect of, you look beautiful, or maybe, I'm going to miss you, you know, so if there were any big revelations that you might be having, if you might have something important you've neglected to bring up-

(Maybe it's not healthy - but you'll admit to some oddness, some habits: Sana sleeps better after she's been fucked senseless, her forehead pressing to yours; the sheets need washing more than once a week. It's a very regular development in her life and the fabric softener she prefers, the lavender and verbena, has started appearing in your cabinet; you're using that type now automatically.

And that's not nothing. That's probably an invitation for some sort of talk. It's not - well, yeah. Anyway: no one will ever accuse you of being great at communicating.)

You wrap your hands around her waist, pushing the cotton of her shirt up, spreading your palms flat to trace her skin, feeling the tight muscles in her stomach flex and quiver - your touch skates to the valley of her cleavage and back, around her side, shoulders to collarbones and the front of her ribs, then her hipbones. She squirms a little bit; her skin pebbles where you're touching her. She's sensitive - ticklish, maybe.

"Feels good, that," she admits, half into the sink.

And in the reflection, watching, you see her lean back, lean into you, without thought for herself; the familiarity of your touch. The easy intimacy of it.

"Well," you tease, "yeah, it's a bit of a problem for you lately."

The shower's still running. You kiss the side of her throat.

She smacks a hand down on your wrist - she's playful, though, teasing in her chide. "Get out," she says. "Unless you're getting in with me."

It's 11:34PM. You're already halfway to fucked-out; there was a particularly intense stretch, her thighs clenching and trembling on either side of you as she rode your face, hair falling and hitting her cheeks, her mouth parting open into the hottest sound you've ever heard, her shoulders arching; your palms braced tight against the soft skin of her hips, holding her just above your tongue as she whimpered please, more. She'd came on your face - like, all over - and then fell to your lap and was just so, so eager for a second helping. So you held her there, at the edge of your mattress as she took it so prettily; moaning and pleading until she'd sobbed through another and collapsed in a messy heap of satisfied flesh, slumped against you like the physical stress had stolen whatever architecture her bones had remaining.

It's not an unusual turn of events - and now, there's the two of you. A routine; a domestic dance, almost. A morning-evening-afternoon affair.

"Nah," you say, pressing a kiss to her hairline, her jaw, the nape of her shoulder. "You could use some space, baby. Wouldn't wanna infringe."

"It'd be worth it," she says - not even flirtatious. Just blunt, honest.

You run your hand through your hair, intimate deep-in-thought.

"Oh, c'mon." Her reflection scoffs at you. "Momo doesn't call us a pair of sluts with a love story because you're the uncomplicated, mature one."

"So you did talk to her." She shoots you a glare through the glass - but no fire to it. She's relaxed in your grip, compliant. "And listen, maybe it's my character arc, honey, let me have it. I think I'm really coming into my own."

Sana flushes just a little at the pet name. There's a roll of her eyes, too. It's intentional, and you adore her for it. "Are you?" she snipes, but you're her favorite frustration and this is all just prelude; there's heat in her tone, an anticipation of wanting to be grabbed, to be slammed down into the pillows and fucked hard until her thighs can't tremble anymore. It's an indulgence in familiarity. You understand - but you don't quite give her what she's looking for.

"I hope so." You lean further, push deeper into her space. Your arms bracket her in. She's a beard-burn shy of looking completely debauched. It's tempting. "One of us has got to get their shit together, and you're obviously not taking any interest," you continue, all clandestine and shrewd and serious. Your free hand presses at her thigh. It doesn't matter which one.

Sana rolls her eyes again. "You bitch," she mumbles, shifts her weight - nudges you a bit with her elbow. She keeps you close, either way. "I'm being serious."

You'd beg to differ, but the way she reaches her hand back into your hair and looks at your reflection is so loaded: lips plush, jaw smooth, a shadow resting across her shoulders. The honeyed quality of her hair. The rough shape of her collarbones, half-hidden beneath her loose cotton top, gray as gunmetal and baring her smooth, gorgeous shoulders. Sana is, above all, an attention-getter. It's hard not to fixate on the physicality. All parts of her - legs, ass, tits, hair, the swan's neck, the way she's just tall enough that you'd need her standing on tip-toe to kiss her, chin lifted, eyes down - that sweet little pout of a mouth - they're all an aesthetic intent; her waist has been grabbable since you've known her, and you would die to tug the ends of her hair free, ruffle the order and let them fall, a wavy-brown disaster, to her bare shoulders, frame her eyes with her eyelashes. That would make you soft, for sure. Or, anyway - more soft. As though you hadn't spent the past three months staring her down in the mornings, sneaking glances like she'd catch you at it, fixated and lust-ridden: Sana has all the elements to break you down.

You snap her waistband to make her flinch.

"You know what our problem is?" The water's still running - maybe she likes the sound of it, is trying to tune you out. "I always have to watch you for like five minutes before you kiss me," she chides, lifting her hair like she's fishing for compliments. "It's fucked up."

"A serious dilemma," you agree, without hesitation. Your thoughts are: 5'4", 120 pounds soaking wet, a perfect proclivity for being manhandled and made to feel cherished and worshipped and slutty as she needs. It's what you know of her, more or less. There are more things not on record. Things of consequence, weight. It would require context. "Truly."

"I mean, your mouth is never where it should be."

"Everyone's a critic."

Sana leans into you. Tips her head back. "Pay attention," she whispers, "be good," and lets her lips begin to part.

"Yeah?" your reflection replies, unkind.

She rolls her eyes again. Again again. There are many moments for this: the attitude, the incredulous stare, her naked body pressed to the marble walls of a bathroom she's becoming dangerously fond of - she sighs, like her heart's in it and it aches her. It's dramatic. "I'll teach you."

She spins away from the mirror and cups her hand around your mouth: another gentle touch, in contrast.

You think, all over again, of her thighs. Of the weight in her shoulders. The fine points of her wrists. She loosens the ribbon from her hair and places it on the counter. You don't know why that's so poetic. It feels like you've won something.

"Do I need to go get another condom?" you ask, dry, when your head goes south and your gaze gets low, right there - the cut of her clavicle, the way she'd probably like being handled rougher, hiked up on the bathroom counter, forced to submit like she's letting you do it.

Sana doesn't smile, but her lips twitch.

"Maybe," she says.

(You have an inkling, or two, or more.)

"Maybe you should take your clothes off before we talk logistics, huh?" she teases, and she does smile now. You laugh, despite your better judgment. "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like that."

"I swear," she mumbles - it's accusatory, the way she leans her weight against you. It's her signature move. "I think your new thing is just a dirty girl complex."

You stare down at her. "Oh, okay."

Her lips crease: disgusted. "Just a thought," she says. Her eyes are hooding, and it's what she does when she's letting herself slide. Her hands come down slow, so slow to your neck. You could bite her if you wanted to. There's plenty to mark, plenty of skin to bruise: she's at your mercy, and she loves it like that. She licks her lips and waits. "You're out of them, by the way. Like - the condoms. I grabbed the last one from your nightstand and - you know." She's shaking her head - something solemn about it. "No more. I'm telling you for your own benefit. So, um - yeah, that's your warning."

"My warning?" you repeat.

You take her jaw, watch her cheeks bloom pink - it's nice. Pretty. Very charming. Well, that's Sana - well, at least it fits.

"What I'm trying to say," she begins, slowly, uncharacteristically bashful, "is you could, like, do whatever you wanted, probably."

"Dirty girl," you repeat, quiet.

She blinks at you. A furrow forms, impervious, in her pretty brow.

"This isn't - I don't - listen, no one says that- they only do that shit in the movies."

You grin.

"But you're like, a guy in real life."

She swats at you.

"I can't believe I have to clarify the fact that-"

"You want me to fuck you raw," you interrupt, gently - and when Sana looks at you there's something guarded, and soft, and caught, and it's almost like-

Well, what's the word?

"I just mean I trust you," she mumbles.

You think: well, you could've led with that.

"Oh," you say, instead. "Oh - sweetheart," and then she blushes harder, but it's not because of you. She has a sudden and surprising sense of embarrassment, and you just blink at each other for a couple seconds - maybe you weren't expecting that from her, the sentimentality - and she doesn't want to apologize. "Listen-" you begin, and then cut yourself off. What is there to say? What did you just spend the better part of an evening trying to avoid mulling over?

(A fleeting, untoward notion. Some sort of unsolicited idea, illicitly tangible. As in: maybe you're both going a little insane.)

"I have a couple questions," you add, like an afterthought.

"I can't with you." Sana ducks her head, pulls on the bottom of her top. "Sorry, just," she starts, but lets the rest slip. "You don't need to make a thing of it."

"You seem - conflicted, is all." You catch her by the hip, guide her a little closer. There's a slow-simmering feeling stirring in your gut - something incessant, demanding of attention. "A little regretful. Look at me."

"I wasn't asking." She looks. It's a direct hit: she has a mean glare, one with the same capacity to bore through you, tear you limb by limb. She has the capacity for cruelty, is what you're getting at. "If you're that curious about the specifics, it was an expression of trust. Take it or leave it."

"Now you seem upset."

She arches an eyebrow: the normal one, the regular sardonic-you're-so-hot-I-hate-it eyebrow, not the sexy-sultry-dirty eyebrow.

"Five minutes," she huffs, without explanation. "Five whole minutes and I'm still not being kissed, like, why-"

Your laugh comes from somewhere in your chest; deep, surprised.

"There's no winning with you," she grumbles, but when she looks up you can already see it - it's in her eyes, she's not actually that upset. There's no stormy undertow, just the fondness lurking like a tidal wave underneath everything else. You feel the current a bit before it swallows her: there are hands tugging, winding, drawing the whole mess closer and closer. It's affection, an entire sea's worth of it, flooding and indiscernible. You can see all the stars that shimmer. It's just: her hips are so fucking grabbable, you know that already, that it's to the point of being inescapable, an absolute truth - and she wants to get off, she always wants to, but there's some greater, darker purpose to how her breath ghosts on your neck. How she blushes like it's the first time.

"I want," she breathes. It comes with intent.

(Yeah, a lot of fucking intent.)

"I know, baby," you tell her, low - and press a kiss to the juncture of her jaw, one hand lifting her top, palming her breast, the other sliding into her underwear. "You always want more," you murmur. Sana nods like a doll - you've reduced her, again, into a bundle of fussy limbs and breath and gasps, begging you to get inside her pussy. "I've got you," you coo, a bit darkly: and, well, Sana isn't wrong - it is a kind of dirty girl syndrome. At least for her.

For you, it's more like a daily reacquaintance with your sins.

Your mouths meet, clumsy and off-kilter; Sana's tongue is heavy, languid in the wet heat of your mouth, and the kiss tastes like everything else: her hair like flowers, her makeup, the faded sweat, her cherry lip balm, the flat, glassy quality of the cum dried on her thighs, her underwear around your fist. There's a lingering scent to her sex that reminds you of how badly you wanna fuck her; your finger ghosts at her cunt and it's wet again, dripping-pink and sensitive, ready, open, a bruised thing.

"You," she breathes into your mouth, and her teeth skim your lip, "are so fucking hard." She's skated her palm down into your sweats, taken a rough hold of your cock, as though to prove something: and she's so right. She doesn't break the kiss. Her thumb smears a bit of your pre-cum over the slit, spreads it up and down your length. You're already aching-hot and throbbing for her. "Baby," she murmurs, sounding devious, feeling it, too. There's more to say, more of that floodgate left to open up:

"You're going to cum so much in me, aren't you?"

(It's rhetorical.)

You hoist her onto the counter, shove her shorts down, pull your cock out of your pants: it's just muscle memory, the way the rhythm works itself out - and if Sana was trying to push you, she's definitely succeeding.

"You should be careful what you wish for," you offer, half-nonsense, half the judicious side of an agreement. The devil on the shoulder's not exactly in the business of sticking to your promises: "I should probably pull out, you know," you go on, mindlessly - but she's got her arms around your neck, is rolling her hips impatient and insistent like the conversation isn't even important enough for her to properly listen to.

"Gonna cum on all over me instead?" she asks, too quiet. "Is that the plan?"

And it's the least combative you've heard her be in a hot minute. You slicken your fingers with her cum and rub your digits along the flushed, throbbing surface of her clit: the only way you know to deal with her filthy mouth.

"Right on my tummy, or all over my chest," she goes on, heedless, dragging her fingertips over her shirt like you need a demonstration. She's just spewing bullshit for the thrill of it. The grin accompanying that is sly, cheeky, like her whole self; she rubs her nose against yours.

You gather her panties and let them ball up in your palm.

"Maybe a mess all over my ass?"

"Oh, definitely," you sigh, finally, and work her apart as the kisses fall out of line.

She looks up at you from beneath long, delicate lashes, fluttering like she knows the effect it's having on you: it's un-fucking-fair, the way she uses it, wields it like the weapon it is. A sigh slips from her, ragged, fucked: she's bracing herself, chasing the tip of your cock, leaning into the nudge. "Maybe you can push me onto my knees, shove your dick down my throat and gag me with it until I swallow every drop, yeah?"

"Sana," is your reply. "Of course." It's the conscientious, mature, adult thing to do.

She's batting her eyelashes. You should do something about it, maybe: you line your cock up against her entrance, holding steady, and slap your hand on the smooth expanse of her right thigh. "Spread," you snap at her, and then grin back.

Her face scrunches: genuine exasperation, tight cunt, real feeling.

She huffs, opens her thighs wider, gives herself up to you - and that's another victory. Her fingers reach up and dance against the scruff on your jaw like it's a fond curiosity. You watch her search your face for affirmation like it'll fix everything. There's not much to do but to slip your arms around the waist, let her wrists cross over your shoulders like she needs the anchor to survive.

"So pull out then, mister-good-ideas-at-work," she taunts, nosing at your throat, the underside of your jaw, up to your ear: "Show me, if it's so easy."

You can barely breathe, it's so tense; the way she teases the shape of it, her cunt slick and open against you. She'll stretch like she was tailored for the fit, easy and familiar, taking, taking, taking - she's always such an angel, but she's halfway in hell already, legs spread out, slick pussy lips bumping against the blunt head of your cock, so wide, so vulnerable.

"Sana," you hear yourself say, voice like sandpaper, throat drying. Her smile twists her features to something more-knowing, all full-lipped and curving at the corners - she's a little more practiced in sinning, knows the game better. It's an act and it isn't, all at once.

"C'mon, I need it," she drawls, but the soft little plea comes back: "please."

Your hand drops from her mouth, smoothing over her chin, down the swell of her breasts, her ribs. You slip your cock inside her and can see the exact moment her face blanches - it's so sweet, so sharp: her eyes widen and her jaw goes slack, lips falling open as her brow furrows. She's so wet around you, taking you, swallowing up every inch like it's no work at all, her perfect pussy clenching just as it hits the base: like it's muscle memory, like she's been molding herself for it, opening for you. The very thought makes you want to fuck her even deeper: you tighten your hand at her hip, drag yourself out of the slick squeeze of her cunt.

"Oh," Sana breathes out, eyes half-lidded. "Holy- oh, you're-"

Your cock sinks deeper. The word gets lost in her moan; a crease forms on the bridge of her nose, between her brows, and she presses her fingers to your nape, clutching at the skin like she's unsure of the support. One of her palms strokes across your cheek: a wonder, a mercy, a favor, all of it. You'll ruin her, just like she wants, just like you promised. You're sure of it.

You have to fight the urge to ask if she's okay, because you know what kind of face she'd make: exasperated, disappointed, incredulous. Instead you snap your hips and drive yourself inside of her again.

All her thoughts and her confidence - the casual faux-command, the playful, arrogant tilt in the turn of her words - unspools, dissolves, crumples in her eyes, collapsing to dust around you: she can't even choke out her filthy demands, let alone the sugar-soaked slights and slander that came first. The innuendos, the bullshit, all those deliciously-subtle negotiations. She blinks, and the second you slide a couple inches back in and in and in, her eyes flicker shut and you both exhale into the same breath: an oh-my-fuck-Sana, and the answering whimper-moan that falls so effortlessly out of her mouth. Your palm burns against her hip bone, sinking deep, trying to press her tight against your cock, skin-to-skin and full-to-the-brim.

"How," Sana gasps out, sounding delirious, out-of-it, her brain rattled by nothing more than the full, perfect fit of your cock inside her. Her fingers lock behind your head, pulling you even closer. She gasps against your mouth, "-how does it- fuck, oh my god, fuck-"

You see what she's getting at.

There's nothing separating you, and it feels - well, her pussy is unbelievable. The realization is hitting you harder with each glide you sink inside her; just like everything else with Sana - charged, thrilling, slightly inappropriate and hotter for it.

And you'd tell her if you had the words - how fucking good she feels, the grip around your shaft as you hilt inside her, the exact feel, taste, texture of Sana's perfect, pretty, slick-squeezing cunt. Oh, you're slaking a kind thirst here they write stories about, the kind you die for: it'll never be sated, you'll always be seeking, and the deeper you go the further you drown.

"Yeah," is all you can say. "Fuck." The only explanation.

Her voice goes tighter with each stroke, her legs wrapping around your waist like rope. You're touching everything of Sana that can be touched: you kiss her hair, suck marks into her collarbone, cup her face and force her eyelashes open; you fill her up so deep you can feel her throat tremble when your name just brushes the roof of her mouth.

Oh, it's rough, messy, somehow incandescent; you're pounding her right there on the counter, against the sink. The showerhead's hissing just loud enough for you to miss the string of expletives you know she'd be spitting, the half-bitten curses. She keeps her ankles hooked like she's afraid you'll fall, afraid that you'd slip out of her, leave her empty, unoccupied, unfulfilled, wanting.

"Fuck, baby," you hear, feel against you: her lips are near your ear. She shivers. "If I knew," a pause as Sana swallows, her hair clinging damply to her forehead. "If I knew- felt this good- you're going to- your fucking cock, I swear, ohmygod, I swear-"

You press your mouth right at her temple, harshening the rhythm and loving the way her fingernails dig hard, bright crescents into the skin of your back; there'll be marks there tomorrow, the perfect imprints of her grasping, coming apart, holding on.

"God, Sana," you mutter, almost desperate. It's such a fucking disaster. She's wet on your skin, soaking everywhere. It's so fucking hot.

You want her cumming on your cock; you want her on her back, knees up, shaking; you want her a sweat-shining mess, breathless and glassy-eyed. You'd worship her body if you didn't have your hands clenching her ass so you could push her (one, two, three, four) times (five) against the tile, (six) against your skin.

It's more imperative than religion, really.

Three months later and you suppose there's been a lot of perfect, sopping-wet, begging-and-creaming, broken-off, rough-thrusting, sinful fucking, and sometimes it's in her apartment or in the backseat of her car or in your fucking kitchen, her braced up against the island countertop with her legs spread and you railing her in her pajamas. Sometimes it's when Sana whimpers in this awful way when she's kissing you, pressing a soft, barely audible "ruin me," into your mouth - it's then when she gets really, truly fucking filthy: you're actually going to fucking cum inside her, sobbing and stupid, if she doesn't fucking knock it off. If this doesn't just kill you both - and that's how it'll go: her legs locked so tight around your waist, hands white-knuckled around your shoulders, face-to-face and with the base of her cunt kissing your cock so sweetly.

Sana makes a weak, overwhelmed noise, like the same thought's gotten the best of her, too.

"My pussy," she says in this high, thin whisper. "It needs you. Like I fucking - oh, fuck - like I think I was made for your cock." Her words have gotten little manic, voice edging at hysterical: "It's a perfect fit. Just feels fucking-" A whine pitches in her throat and she grinds her clit against your lower stomach, her abs quivering like she's had three cups of coffee.

You thrust once - no, you really, truly fuck her: you snap in and in and in - you hold her fast to the sink basin and bury your cock all the way to her deepest point, to where Sana clenches and her muscles ripple around you.

She's always so sensitive. Like in a smearing-lipstick, fucked-through-half-a-box-of-tissues, you-absolute-angel kind of way.

But there's no tease, no falsified modesty to it - none of the push-and-pull from either of you; your expressions are blissed-out, stuck in awe, in reverence. Jaws dropped and punching out each hard, deep fuck into her, gasping for air. "Oh my god," she's saying, head lolling like there's no rigidity left to her spine, nails digging into the hard muscle of your back. She's saying other shit - and you're talking, too, talking a bit: it's the kind of delirium that strips language to the bone. "Holy fuck- I know- Yeah. Fuck, I know."

The nodding is excessive - but in your shared defense, so is the sensation of fucking each other raw. Who the fuck coulda guessed?

She's hot and tight and god-blessedly gorgeous - and you tell her that. From the first time you watched her stretch a condom over your cock, roll it down with her palm, and felt her pussy sink onto you inch by inch and the pressure was immediate and aching - "It feels so fucking good," she'd been saying - to the fifth, to the fiftieth. To her draining you dry, her moans winding you up and around her finger - even that first time in a filthy, nasty, cramped bathroom stall, drunk as all fuck, and then the next morning. "More, more, more," and now, too, all: "It's everything, please, fuck, keep going," all the other times where your tongues have turned to satin, curling into the place of your own destruction, where the warmth is licking out all sense.

In the worst of moments, in the best - she's clung to you, body arched up, hips up, heels dug into you so hard you might be bruised under her.

All her moans are punched-out, high-pitched, shuddering with her exhales.

It's everything: "Don't stop."

And that's really how the last shred of coherency slips past, disappears down the drain: her voice twists as you graze the spot inside her you want her to cry at, and you sink into a pleasure so intense, a release so in-tune, it's like it'd only be complete after you both sank to hell.

"Such a good girl," you kiss into her skin, sinking your fingers into the round fullness of her butt, spreading her apart so she knows, even better, exactly where her cunt ends and your cock begins. "The prettiest fucking girl; your fucking pussy is so tight; hot and soaking wet for me." Your voice sounds worse with each dirty little nothing: you've both been babbling for a while. Maybe ten seconds. Maybe since the beginning. "I think I could fuck you forever."

"Cocksleeve," she agrees, and tips her chin to the ceiling, blinking hard at nothing, trying not to lose it, but maybe also, in the same sense: "Literally could just - be my cunt. For the rest of time. Cocksleeve."

"Gorgeous," is what comes next out of your mouth; and, in some warped parallel to the truth, "All mine."

For her, too, really: she likes being tossed around, told how much you need to breed her, how slutty she is - but then you watch how her brain fries with the softer, sweeter stuff. Oh, you're making love to the thoughts she keeps trapped under a box in the back of her head, and all the things she'll only dare admit to under dim lamplight; when she thinks she can disguise how they might come across as anything at all besides absolutely fucking tragic.

You could bottle her tears for how sentimental this shit is - well, you could do that anyway - the whole messy situation. You say her name once and she whimpers out your own. That's the state of affairs. Just one look at her face is all you need. It's an instant trigger, it's how the electricity rushes and buzzes through the wires.

"You're stunning," you say, totally earnest.

And the heat goes straight to her guts.

It's the transparency of it all, or the bordering bratty-tilt to it, or something, you're not a therapist - it's just what sends Sana toppling, fluttering like a heartbeat as her hips stutter into your own, legs spasming, pussy clenching - and right on the heel of that, with a strangled: "So fucking good to me, I swear, please-"

The moan barely passes the boundary of her lips as it breaks like dawn over her body, sending her spine arcing, chest heaving. It's a kettle-whistle pitch and you think your neighbors are sick of the screams, the late-night-to-early-morning, pounding rhythm against the thin walls, the laughter, the headboard beating like a drum. And they would have to be blind, to not look at her and see a sin they want to taste, too - she's divine like this, moans broken-off and falling into each other, a slur, a blur, her tits bouncing under the flimsy tank, rising higher with each stroke - the fat, firm weight of them; and this is when you know she's going to cum on your cock, the way her muscles go loose, pliant, willing, relaxed - it's all an afterglow in the waiting, she's wriggling into her death, in anticipation, arching up to meet you.

When you pull your hand out from under her ass to grab a fistful of her shirt, right at the center and pulling up to keep her back arched off the counter, her breasts spill from the loosened material and up, and up - they bounce higher, tighter; you're pounding her sopping-wet pussy harder than you have any right to.

There is no heaven to compare.

You'll tell her, if you'll survive the sight of it: Sana is an absolute fucking wreck. Her jaw is slack, her lipstick has long smeared to obscurity and she is a vision in the sexiest, sluttiest sense. She is the kind of fucked that's worth staying dead for. Worth taking last breaths to witness, dying to witness.

And, the moment her lips graze yours: your insides crackle and smolder.

Her hand hits the counter, knocking whatever's next to you onto the tile - the clatter would've been distracting, but you're balls-deep and you think it'd break her if you hit it any rougher-

"Ruin me," Sana pants into your mouth, barely audible. "Fucking ruin me, please, ruin me-"

"Sana," you manage through the hot clench of her around you, the near-painful crush of her arms tight at your waist.

"Need your cum," is what she sounds like. "Like fuck, do you feel that?" She's breathing into your ear. "God, fuck, your cock is right against my tummy, right here," she mewls, one slender hand slipping down to tap a knuckle right below her belly-button, "can feel it pressing up against me," and your mind's gone off, racing down every back-alley, all the old dirt-road streets: "You'd cum right up my little womb. You could. If you wanted, you could breed me up - pump me full, fuck me full. Give me- just - give me everything," and she has no idea - no idea what she's saying, what she's doing, how hard it is to think around a girl with such a perfect, pretty, slick-squeezing cunt-

"Sana," is all you can manage, warning and plea in one. "Careful." It's stupid: you have half a foot on her, outweighing her by more than the other direction, and yet Sana makes you weak. You're like clay for her to mold, bending beneath her fingertips and falling straight through, like the word please: a request. You don't know how she has you all figured out. It's no fun this way.

"Or else what?" Sana smirks, winning. "Gonna get me pregnant?"

You swear you see stars, that it's going to end embarrassingly fast for you, and the thought of you hilting right into Sana's tight cunt, knocking up against her insides, breeding her like your stupid fucking cock knows it wants, that's so, so fucking filthy - no, no, fuck no: that's not what this is, this is supposed to be innocuous, or some approximation of it - you're gonna put her on her knees, cum on her face, fuck a load across her tits, in the bowl of her cupped palms and watch her lap it up and lick clean her long fingers, maybe push the whole, aching head of your cock between the lips of her plush, pink, sweet-as-can-be mouth. Send the load directly down her throat, tugging those gorgeous tresses while her brown, liquid eyes peer up at you. A mess: a sopping, fucked-out, splayed-out, mess.

"Filthy fucking mouth," you deflect, because you can't keep on track with how pretty Sana's perfect cunt's clutching you like a fucking fist, her tiny frame somehow matching you, thrust for thrust.

"What about it," and Sana isn't even flinching.

"Gonna cum in it," you snap, a growl, and it's supposed to be a threat, but then it hits - right at the crease between her torso and legs, your favorite place to pound into her; you're fucking her like a toy, treating her like the easiest little hole you've ever had your hands on, and you'd never pull out, you'd never give this up and Sana knows it, too - you have to make sure to take the base of your cock and work your cum deeper into the bowels of her perfect, hot cunt.

"Yeah?" she hums resplendently.

Somehow, fucked-out and blissful, soaking your cock as you split her open, there's a note of tease in her voice - and an echo in the swell of her womb, clenching, just as willing; Sana's a genius, so she must have found all this shit out already - but it's the type of thing you have to admit, privately and to yourself, through gritted teeth, not within hearing-distance of a girl whose smile could undo every thread in the fabric of time: it's kind of really, ridiculously hot.

"Can you promise?"

"Yeah," you choke.

"Go on," breathes Sana, a dare and a request in one. "Love hearing you say it."

"On your knees," you try to swallow, "gonna pump your cute little throat full," you groan, a man unmade, "gonna have to fuck you like this again, baby. I'm going to make you-"

Make her what: a mother? A whore? A wife, a baby, something she'll be afraid to call out loud, but will say anyway-

"Yours," and that's Sana, fucking the thought out of your head, "so you could use me up, so you'd make me take it, give me everything - cum, cum in me, I need it- please," her voice climbing, crescendoing, "Cum in me," a broken record, all instinct. Sana and her tight, creamy little pussy, you pumping full, you flooding her insides and spilling out, the messier the better - it's how she gets off, her voice wavering until you can feel the shivering, the shaking, the quivering; that perfect moment of collapse, where you're there with her, just the same.

There's a certain kind of pure, self-destructive stupidity in trying to rationalize it, you know, but that's the fucked-up part.

"Oh," she breathes, deep and deliriously hot, and it's an aftershock of its own.

There's no reasoning with how badly you're pounding into her, fucking your cum as deep as it'll go, letting her soft curves rut against your body, to meet her rhythm in turn, to fill her up to the brim and then just a bit over.

"Oh, I can feel it," and Sana sounds like you've done the unthinkable: as if you'd broken a prayer, a hymn, the key to heaven held beneath the wetness, the heat, the fluttering pulse, the tightness, the sex, this body of yours. Like she could die. Like she should die. "That's - oh, oh - your cum's filling up my pussy," and it doesn't register that she shouldn't say it, and you should be telling her to shut the fuck up, but it just doesn't cross your mind at all: "Oh, God. You're - it's so hot inside of me, can - feel it," and it's all true.

There's nothing like it, her silken, creamy, slushy warmth surrounding your softening cock, the way you fit so easily against her.

"I told you," is the first thing out of her gorgeous, swollen mouth. Her lips brush your jaw, your neck. Sana's breath tickles, light on your skin. "No shot you were pulling out."

"Shut up," is the best you've got - it makes her laugh, eyes creasing, throaty and sweet; oh, there's that quintessential Minatozaki charm.

(That's it: she has your number; you watch her smile, watch the way her legs shake when you slip out of her, watch her warm brown eyes flit upwards. You can't let her leave. And she knows.

Sana's fingers graze the curves of your cheeks as she holds your lip between hers, tongue tasting, teasing. A long beat before she releases you, and her smile spreads over the line of your face, slow and steady, like a sunrise. She's impossibly gentle, all silk and sweetness. Unthinkingly soft as her palm smooths your hair out of your eyes - her skin on your skin. Sana's eyes are dreamy like this. The radiant gleam in her irises clashes with the moonlight on her lashes.

She's glitter, gold.)

The pharmacy. The one by your apartment that's open a little after 1 am on a Saturday.

And this should be your cue: walk on by, look forward, straight ahead.

Walk, like you have somewhere to be. Toss some distractions into the basket, drain cleaner, detergent, a fifth, new, foreign bottle of conditioner; maybe some light beer, too, to fit the stereotype, to balance things out.

You tell yourself you have no place here, amidst boxes of birth control pills, gels and patches and syringes and capsules of every single kind. Don't dawdle - don't linger.

Sana's milling the aisles in pursuit of candy, or a bag of those heinous fucking Takis, probably. A bottle of gatorade, realistically; she likes the blue one, says it tastes like putting your tongue to a nine-volt. What an eloquent princess, you think, and find it hard to hide the smile, the simpering stupidity, the tenderness.

She's someone you text about shitty things, who complains to you about her coffee stuck in the vending machine, Mina's ongoing billionaire-affair and Nayeon's chattering over some boy she likes from way back when. Someone whose high ponytail can be found above a pair of comically large glasses, a paperback novel pressed between the bend in her arm and her ribs (bitch, of course there is, she'd said when you'd asked, there's smut in everything these days); whose laugh, tinkling and lilting and silver-bright, has no right to sound as rich or as deep or as richly deep as it does.

Someone who looked in your eyes and found it - that gaping hollowness, a vacancy in the marrow - and who laughed at that, too. She makes it worse. You might actually love her.

"You're like, really nervous," she tells you, not asking.

"Well," and that's when the wall between your mouth and your brain finally collapses: it all rushes through; no air left in the room. "Maybe I'm a fucking idiot."

"I've actually always known this." Sana looks at you, half a smirk. It's almost impossible to imagine the last time you were anything else. "But, like, aren't all men, really?"

"Yeah, yeah. A genius observation." You run a hand through your hair; her smile blooms wider.

"If you insist," and Sana tosses her head, exaggerated, before dumping a shit ton of Twizzlers into the cart. "They're for Tzuyu," she explains. "She's been fucked by her publicist more times this week than she's had hot meals."

"Y'know I actually caught wind of that," you say, moving one step forward in line. "It was neck and neck until she skipped a lunch. Although I don't think those count as like, substantial nutrition. It doesn't negate the other thing."

"Fuck, you're probably right. Gummy bears next time, then."

"Right. Better, slightly."

"That's the spirit," and she peels away, leaving you with her smoky sarcasm - a hand on your bicep as she saunters off to the parking lot. "Also: get some of the good Tylenol from behind the counter. You fucked my brains out and I think I'm coming down with a concussion."

"Jesus christ," you groan. "Again with the outdoor-voice, Sana."

She flashes you her megawatt-grin, flips you off, and the whole transaction at the register is over before you've made sense of it. It's an opportunity for some perspective, a chance to decide you've got it wrong. You should walk home, Sana should ask for a ride, or an Uber - neither of you should need a night-time pharmacy. You could change it if you tried. It's almost absurdly simple, but the way she takes your hand on the walk home is so soft. She's so close: her profile is elegant, poised in the streetlamp's sick, sulfur glow.

You turn the key. There's her laughter again, echoing like windchimes through the city.

And, fuck. It's going to be harder to forget this than you think.

"The internet says it's best to use within twenty-four hours," is all Sana says about it. The tablet's small and green. She hands the plastic bottle to you to check it. Her hair's fallen over her shoulders like ribbons, soft as her eyes. "And the way Momo described it," she explains, almost playfully, "if I wait to take this tomorrow, I think we'd get an excuse to fool around some more."

The look she gives you then is somehow uncharged, despite the suggestion, and she has that habit, when she's laughing or when she's moaning, of chewing on the inside of her lip. She's sitting on top of your breakfast table and looking like starlight. She uncrosses her legs, tips her head.

"What do you think?" and it's everything, a complex trap in four syllables. She's caught you well and squarely. "Do we have a reason?"

"Hm," you say. Sana crosses her legs the other way.

"It's bona fide," she says, teasing you a little, running a finger along the tabletop, her eyes flicking up. She's impossible. It's terrible. "You can creampie me over and over. Can fill up every inch of my pussy - fill my guts right up, and breed me good."

"Huh." It's all you have left to deflect with, when she's laid it all out like that. "That's not what bona fide means, by the way."

Sana lifts a hand, cocks her head. "Means you can do whatever you want." She clicks her tongue, scandalized. There's not much point in refusing, and not even a chance.

"Carte blanche might be what you're after," you offer.

Her laugh is a little breathless, annoyed. "Yeah," and it's like she's flushing pink. "That's what I said. Are you gonna ask me if I know what creampie means too, smartass?"

"Princess," you say, grinning a little, setting the plastic down beside her. You're pretty sure it's rhetorical anyway. "If you read even another sentence from one of Momo's incognito tabs, you'd end up drooling on my sheets." You keep her gaze, eyes locked - well, at least one of you's taking this seriously, you think, as the corners of your lips curve, unbidden - fuck, she's always making you smile.

"Does this mean you're into me, or something?" You tilt your head, pretend to consider. Sana makes a show of scowling. "Or do you just have a thing for being a cumslut," you gesture vaguely, "like, generically?"

Sana leans in and kisses the underside of your chin.

Quick, easy; she snaps back into place like you'd somehow never notice. "A little of both," she says, as breezy as possible. "I'm surprised you're ruling out me taking pity on you." Her eyes have all the mirth you'd expect, and the warmth - the fondness. She looks up at you, and her smile's not as bright or sharp as it used to be. She just seems happy. "Wishful thinking, but whatever."

And maybe Sana's on to something: wishful thinking - but, then again, maybe you're getting close to the part where you've both got it all so, so wrong. You'll have to figure things out from there. Either way, you're at a place where you're genuinely taking medical advice from Hirai Momo.

So, it is what it is.

You don't exactly talk about it. Which is to say neither of you ever bring up how this whole arrangement came to be.

Because it's not romance, it's not sweet, it's not soft or sentimental - it's not even halfway serious: the way everything unfolds haphazardly and with no real, defined idea of what you're getting yourself into, other than a precautionary 'hey, we're not gonna know each other' rule that got broken almost instantly is all that you can divulge, for now. There's all these complexities, layered and tangled and difficult. It's all-consuming. It's an emotional quagmire. It's the kind of thing that'll take years to unpack, the kind that'll never really have an actual explanation; a mistake, probably, you think, one worth repeating, definitely.

"Look. You're leaking out of me," she murmurs from against your pillows, thighs parting - you glance at her cunt, exposed by her twisted panties, and sorta get stuck there. Sana laughs. "Wow," she says, watching you with that wide-open smile of hers, dark hair splayed across the pillows. "Your obsession's worse than I thought."

She's leaving town in the afternoon, so it's been this lazy, lingering fuck all morning, just to pass the time.

You're working from home in the most metaphorical way possible - taking advantage of the daylight streaming in the windows, playing with her hair, fucking her on and off until you get tired of having a mess of a stranger in your apartment. Right. That's the explanation you'll give, when anyone asks. It's a miracle you've slept at all - but then again, Sana gets blissfully and completely tuckered out, turns into putty in your arms, and this is the most dangerous thing of all, the sultry, doe-eyed beauty of her slack mouth in the dark.

You fell asleep together the first time you shared a bed and now never seem to wake up on your own anymore.

She's lax on your mattress, and the blanket's riding low on her thighs, revealing the slopes of her perfect ass. Her little cunt's gaping. Leaking cum. There is no denying it. You think the devil would look a lot like this.

You place your reading glasses delicately on the nightstand, pretend you haven't heard her - or the squelch of her fucked out cunt as she slides a finger down, down, down-

"Oh. Am I distracting you?"

"You have a breeding kink," you say, once she's on a second bottle of water, when her skin's less flushed. You're rubbing between her shoulder blades - she's glowing in your sheets like she belongs there, all white satin and innocence, even with the sweat matted at the ends of her hair.

"Probably," sighs Sana, eyelashes fluttering. "Do I?"

"Definitely," you say, amused.

"Maybe," hums Sana, sounding winded still. You dig your fingers into the nape of her neck, and the next sound out of her mouth is not entirely uncontrolled. You have a point; you're both thinking it. You're just not going to make it. "What's your excuse?"

"Excuse?"

You're not asking her to clarify the question, you're simply buying time to scramble for an answer. Because- "I have no excuse." You shrug. "Just - biology." She rolls her eyes at the apparent insufficiency. "Something about filling up this perfect little body and ruining your whole" - you make a gesture toward her - "pristine-ness."

"Ah, there we go." Sana sits up, the sun casting golden streaks over the angles of her back as she goes.

She stretches like it's an accident, reaches for the hair-tie on the nightstand, and it doesn't matter if you see her do it. "Well." She combs back her damp curls, piling it in an errant bun with practiced ease. It looks good. It's hot, actually. Your cock's still sensitive - but, well, so is Sana's everything. "We're fucked in the head. We get it out of our systems."

"Speak for yourself," you say. She raises a pointed, unmistakably Sana-ish brow. "I'm well-adjusted," you insist. "No baggage."

You watch her go through a moment of disbelief, trying to find some leeway before she snorts. She's climbing on top of you, apparently. Theoretically, you've been keeping an eye on the clock - counting down the minutes before she has to be checking bags and folding up a boarding pass into her purse - first class, because the company believes luxury begets beauty. You'd argue she was both regardless, but-

"That," she says, very matter-of-fact, and settles down so the curve of her ass is over your thigh. It's light pressure. Barely. "Is bullshit."

"I thought that's what you wanted, Ms. Corporate-wunderkind. A therapist type."

"Shut the fuck up." She smacks your chest, too hard to be playful, but a beat later and her hand's snaked back behind her, palm curved over your cock with a promise that makes the rest of the world seem sort of dull.

You shift beneath her, involuntary. Let your hands trail to the warm hollow of her hips, brushing your thumbs over the pink blush marks that blossom on her skin when you touch her for too long.

"Wanting, wanting," she muses, with a strangely alluring sense of casualness, "you've got one track mind - ah - don't even try to hide it." You're more interested in her fingers dragging over your tip, the graceful knuckles that go rigid as she finds your cockhead grazing over the pad of her palm. "For all you know I'll fuck another guy," she says, in a matter-of-fact, it doesn't matter anyway type tone. "Or, god, a dozen."

"Please." Your incredulity and chagrin slip out in equal measure. "Have pity."

Sana cocks her head, intrigued, and takes ahold of the base of your dick.

"No," she decides, "can't say that I can."

There's the stretch, the press. She sinks onto you with no resistance; she's all velvety and wet and you know you were the one who'd gotten her that way. You hiss - so does she. Then it's just quiet again, except for Sana shifting above you, her long legs tangling with yours, the heels of her palms pinning your thighs down to the mattress behind her. She gives a languid little swivel.

"Do you remember," you hear Sana saying, very dreamily, and that's what makes you think perhaps it isn't a serious inquiry and that your input isn't required. She goes, "there was that last day of scheduled rehearsals, that we had before the long winter break. And we got through the numbers in four hours, maybe? Tons of time to kill, and there was nowhere for me to be."

"You came over to my place," you mumble, a vague, wordless reminder of your role.

"Right." Another shift; you're still sensitive as fuck but Sana's weight feels good in your lap and the view of her tits is objectively excellent. "And I took a shower."

"Sure."

She squeezes and rises in tandem, sighing blissfully.

You sit up slightly, support yourself on one elbow and watch yourself disappear, reappear in the wet slit of Sana's pussy. "For a really long time."

"Like an hour," agrees Sana, almost humming, and snaps her hips forward. The jolt forces a groan out of you. She tilts her head up as she does it again, eyelashes fanned, and the reverberation of her movements shakes loose that damned piece of hair clinging to the arch of her temple. You watch a thin stripe of cum leaking out of her, too; that'd been inside her an hour ago. Maybe less. She's fucking you like it doesn't bother her, like she'll never grow tired.

She pulls at the long lock of her hair, seems to examine it contemplatively. She's so perfectly content in her self-aware, blasé, cat-like smugness, purring and untouchable and arching back. Then she says, "That was because I was fantasizing about getting filled with so much cum that I just started running down your shampoo bottle - that's, like, the ultimate breeding fantasy for me, honestly."

"What about that one time," you say, as though unhinged, as though half-conscious, as though every word has the consistency of molasses and there's a bright pulse of blood flooding your brain and rushing out your cock, "when we snuck out to the parking lot, and I made you sit on the hood of my car-"

"Shh, not the same," dismisses Sana, leaning into you, and you hold her there, lock your fingers into the swell of her ass to steady the desperate throbbing inside her pussy. Her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth, but her head lolls to the side, the gauzy curtain of her hair swaying at her waist.

"But," she concedes, an exhale, "that was good, yeah."

"You came really fast - like, so fast," you insist, thrusting up to the sound of her small groan. Her body, all lush skin and ample, unresisting curves, is flushed and gleaming. There's so much of her to take in: the inky fan of her lashes, the ridge of her ribs, the way her breasts hang heavy as she moves. This kind of debauched view feels exclusive, as if reserved just for you. "Remember that?"

"Did I?" She blinks owlishly.

"I'm remembering it for you." Your palm is heavy on her ass; it's what keeps you grounded, lets you get leverage. "What were you thinking about then?"

She bares her teeth in an indecent grin, tugs on the corner of her lip, as if reveling in the memory.

You watch her mouth open, close again.

It clicks: "Right," she answers, finally, and rides you all the harder. "Errant thought, but." She climbs up onto her feet, knees swung wide, her tiny soles balanced perilously atop the duvet - it's all slippery friction and she's so light you could flip her right over. It's all at your discretion. You lean up further. Your arm braces her back, low and hot. "Was imagining how you'd feel in my ass," Sana continues, carelessly, matter-of-fact, as if discussing dinner plans or a movie rental, and you don't expect a laugh from your lungs, but it comes out harshly, all surprise and hot delight, like a confession.

"This was a few years ago," Sana says.

She lifts off, teases your cockhead with the shallowest grip. Watches all the lines in your face start to wobble, and then sinks back down, all the way, burying your cock in her pussy again. Her lips move, you bottom out, you know she's going to ruin your next orgasm like that.

"Someone online posted some bullshit comment about me being - quote-unquote - easy," she tells you, turning her head to the side, to the window. You know the expression on her face: her mouth curved, eyes dark and so, so full of that amused contempt. "Just this thing that you see on the internet all the time. Everyone just doing the same thing - said I probably love it in the ass and - yeah. Can't recall. Fucked off right away."

"Really stuck with you, huh?" Your hips snap, and you swallow hard. "Brought that - image. Up. Didn't it."

"Guess it kind of did."

"Uh-huh."

She licks her lips. "I'd heard worse," she says, and hums, low.

Your grip on her back, her waist, her hip - they're steel-tight. "Felt like someone had put it in my head," Sana remarks, dreamily, then raises an eyebrow. "So y'know. Had a thought and let it take me there. Only made sense. Let myself. Daydream a little, take a long shower," and her smile goes lopsided, her eyes drift, "breathe hard against the bathroom tile, take two of my own fingers up there-"

And she drops, sinks, the lewd, sloshing sound of it resonant; your hands pull her to you by the roots of her hair and she gasps, heaves a small, faltering breath. She's so fucking wet.

"Baby," you groan, completely flat. "I'm gonna cum in you."

"Yeah." Sana looks like she's miles away. She could be. "I know."

She brushes the hair out of your face, holds her nose to your cheek, starts riding you fast, faster - and you do.

This is where the story actually starts - which, in retrospect, is kind of ironic, because everything was technically pre-written, already preordained:

You're in an airport, arriving late and harried, your hair a mess, Sana's luggage slipping from your shoulders. It's snowing biblically outside, the pavement frosted and dangerously slick with ice. The precipitation heavy and thick and white enough to obscure vision. You keep checking your phone, checking your texts, trying to stay grounded even though the forecasters specifically said the skies would clear by sundown.

Flying conditions: sub-optimal - but only barely.

You think serendipity could be something of an old friend to the two of you - if only the pantheon of weather-adjacent gods didn't seem to like her just a little more.

She's calm and unruffled and preposterously cool, with one hand slipped into her coat pocket, her face tipped towards the window so she can survey the falling snow. She looks the part of the chic world-traveller, clad in leather gloves and a tweed peacoat, the collar popped high and stern.

In contrast, you feel like the embodiment of frazzled, clutching anxiously at the handle of her suitcase and turning frantically to ask her which direction to head in; you're not her manager, you didn't plan her flight, didn't schedule any car services for the ride to her hotel. In a few odd hours she'll be on a different continent, standing in a different hemisphere, and you don't really know what to do with your hands.

"When am I gonna see you again?" she asks, pointedly sidestepping all forms of goodbye, bypassing any polite small-talk about the state of the storm.

She's done up in semi-dramatic makeup, a pair of gold earrings swinging when she tilts her head, fixes the edge of her fringe with her fingers: you watch her catch herself, relax - like a true work of art, you suppose, nothing to imply a separation.

There's the duality, you guess. You're looking at a profundity in motion.

And there will be a thousand cameras in her face when she touches down, vying for attention, swivelling and clicking, seeking shots that are just perfect enough - the internet is rabid and frothing at the mouth for a glimpse, some semblance of truth to satiate the rumor-mongers and their constant dissections of the arch of her spine, in the sway of her walk. She's got knee-high socks on and the fashion mags will be desperate to tear her apart at the seams, claim a sliver of all that profundity - they'll never know it's less of an aesthetic decision and more just a stopgap for the thumbprints blooming yellow-bruised in the curves of her calves.

Sana's watching you watch her; expectantly, eyes shining, big enough to fall into.

"Soon," you say, like you have a choice, and hope it sounds like reassurance, not resignation. "Hopefully soon."

She lifts her carry-on to one shoulder, smiles.

The lens you have is quieter, subtler - that's all.

(You can feel Sana turn to look from the terminal, paused, hovering, her jaw catching on her silhouette; and she waits until you're gone before she strides confidently to the desk, brandishing documents and asking sweetly, charmingly, for the check-in. Her walk slows, stutter-stops. Her posture straightens.

She brushes back her hair and keeps going.)

"You better not be romanticizing your melancholic solitude," Momo says later, with a tray of food in her hands.

It's the next day - same time, probably - you'd gotten back from the airport, hailed a cab and stewed in something like self-reflection before deciding you'd bury yourself in your work. You've been letting Sana distract you too much recently - not that you particularly mind it - but if she's not here to drag you into a conference room and drop to her knees, you might as well start making some progress elsewhere.

You roll your pen around your fingers. "What exactly do you think I'm gonna get up to? Staying up until midnight writing shitty poetry and getting blackout drunk?" Momo snorts. "She'll be gone for two weeks, Momo, not ten years. I think I'm gonna manage okay."

"Don't go punching through glass windows just yet, buddy. It's been twenty-four hours, that's nowhere near enough time for your brain to bathe itself in all the wrong chemicals yet." She plops a bowl of instant udon down in front of you. You realize suddenly you haven't eaten in - well, quite some time.

She wrinkles her nose. "God. So morose."

When you glance up, Momo's regarding you with one fist balled tight to her hip. You stare back at her. Her shirt is doing absolutely nothing to contain the top-half of her chest and your coworkers keep passing and rubbernecking. You get it. Her lanyard just goes right through the center of her cleavage; you sorta squint.

Some things never change.

"Um," she says, mock-scandalized. "Can you not?"

You lean back in your seat. "That was totally professional. I looked right at you."

"Yeah, like I'm a specimen." Momo pulls out the chair next to yours and takes a seat.

"I mean, you kind of are," you deadpan.

Momo chortles, pointing her chopsticks at you. "That was almost flattering, thank you." She slurps up the first noodle. "If you're nice to me, I won't tell Sana you're flirting with girls at the office while she's away. I think she'd come all the way back and wring our necks."

"And wouldn't we deserve it," you add. Your computer screen is frozen, blue-tinted with failure. Great. Momo sits down and the sky's falling within seconds. You assure her for the umpteenth time that she's not really your type anyway.

"Excuse you," Momo says, indignant, because that's a joke.

See - Momo's everybody's type, if you had to peg the definitive example of universal attractiveness. She's everyone's favorite eye-candy whether they swing right, left, upside down or none-of-the-above; it's the ass, ostensibly. The big eyes, the gorgeous cheekbones too - her jet-black hair's cut short, practically the opposite of Sana, sleek and androgynous and hanging off her shoulders in the prettiest sort of way.

If they made dolls they'd be collectibles, wildly sought after as a pair, mint-in-box-worthy - the perfect, polished icons of feminine beauty: brains, bravery, strength. But also definitely the ass.

You blink. "Is there something you're here to harass me for, or is my total lack of interest in banging you just something you're interested in re-establishing?"

"I dunno," Momo says around a mouthful of noodles, "it's distracting. It feels weird when Sana isn't here. Things don't feel very funny. Or cute, y'know? I feel like a standup act missing the lead comic relief."

"Are you saying I'm not hilarious and entertaining?"

"I think you're funny, but." She munches happily on some spring onions. "Not intentionally, not usually."

"So why are you getting soup all over my desk?"

"You're pouty for one, all sad-like," Momo says, swallowing. "And you're supposed to be coming up with this advertising pitch and the only thing written in that word doc was 'hey guys'."

"First draft's the hardest," you recite automatically. "I'll figure it out."

"But not anytime soon," Momo drawls.

You slump your shoulders. "But not anytime soon, no."

"If you miss her, just call her," Momo urges, with all the delicacy of an elephant on stilts. "I'm sure she's bored and horny. Like, wicked horny."

Momo is both direct and filthy - there's another difference. Sana's a layer cake: whip it into shape, top it off in pink icing, drizzle white syrup on top; she looks good and acts good and you can swallow her whole, every inch of her tasting sugary, syrupy sweet. Momo doesn't hide that she's the filthiest mess in a five-mile radius; the complete opposite of Sana - well, sorta.

"I heard you dropped a load inside her, earlier." She laughs out loud, true to form. "What the fuck are you thinking? I mean, serious talk: that shit will also rewrite your brain-chemistry. And the farther Sana is from us, the more your neurons are going to start feeling like they're fucking dying, so don't give me your stupid bullshit and tell me you're 'fine' when you're like, a total wreck."

"Can you fucking keep it down?" You rub a hand over your face. "Also wasn't it you who called us 'all-or-nothing?'"

"That was like a month ago. The whole being-casual-and-making-it-work shtick seemed neat and I wanted in. Also it's February 14th, you jackass. I think you two skipped past normal the second you could get into each other's pants." Momo slurps the broth. "Totally unhealthy."

"Also not fucking true." You exhale. "What am I gonna do?"

She gives you an are you stupid? look. "Text her," she enunciates slowly, like you're hearing her wrong. "Call her, I dunno. Romance is all about grand gestures and unreliable narration. Or at least she reads enough trashy Nancy-Meyers-movies-adapted-into-books-style romance to try and extrapolate something. Go out, and find some flowers." The next bite of her noodles is overly enthusiastic. "Make the girl feel special or something."

"Right, she's gonna love that."

"That's what all the books say."

You purse your lips. "So basically all the books have lied, but Sana loves them anyway because they make her cum with how badly they're written, and now you want me to act like they're an instruction manual on fucking courtship. Am I missing any other steps? Like, does this take into account the fact that I'm also really not that romantically inclined-"

"I think you have to do something nice, put some effort in," Momo interrupts, sagely. "Y'know, the gesture's important. A little creative thought. Something better than you've got going on in that empty husk of an advertising pitch. She doesn't actually care about flowers, but it means you think of her."

You slide further into your seat. Momo grins at the glare you give her, too-friendly. The girl is the only person on the premises who can call you out on your bullshit with any actual weight and expect to get away with it. She doesn't technically even work with your department - has more or less established herself as some combination of A-lister, sex icon, social darling - all rolled into the body of a curvaceous woman barely dressed. And everyone's just sorta charmed by it.

If you were a slightly-less-rational person you'd probably try to date her, too.

"Did you know that St. Valentine was actually beaten to death with clubs before getting decapitated?"

It's an aside question, because the only thing worse than arguing a point with Momo is when she happens to be right.

"Where are you pulling this shit from?" Momo wonders, deadpan, wiping her chin. "Why would you tell me that?"

"Thought it might be relevant." You swirl a plastic spoon in the bowl. "Do you have anything else for me, O great and venerated sage of modern womankind?"

Momo snickers at the sarcasm. "Sure," she says. "Tell me your current thoughts on Paris."

You drag a breath through your teeth. "City's a shithole if you aren't rich, famous and absolutely beautiful. In which case, the city exists solely to bask and dote upon your presence. What was the question?"

"Stop checking the travel sites."

"I'm not."

"Are to."

"Don't."

"Do," Momo replies, primly, and waves her hand dismissively. You are very, very mature. This is your professional space. "Keep it simple." She adds, casually: "Or something."

Far, far away and farther still, a girl ducks into a hired car, takes her heels off and turns up the air conditioning, wiggling her toes in relief.

She ends up slipping out of her clothes, taking a hot shower, changing into sweatpants. A private meal is offered to her; she turns down a glass of champagne, instead requesting iced coffee with an obscene amount of espresso shots - pours a ridiculous amount of milk in until the contents are a creamy beige, not even close to being a light-roast.

Later, much later, after a scented candle is extinguished and a notebook is closed shut, the night sky still dark and unchanging, the time zones shift, and then a single, glowing notification flashes across the screen - 4.42 am, her phone says. She's drifting in and out of sleep, dreaming in monochromatic pixels.

It's a mundane, totally insignificant message: nothing fancy, nothing new. A quick update - something along the lines of where are you, what are you doing, are you safe and happy, thinking of you. But it's punctuated with an exclamation point and followed by a pair of hearts - which is something new - like you're thirteen and she's just given you her home-room assignment list on a slip of paper and made you promise to exchange homework with her in the morning.

"How cute," she breathes, softly, and feels warm.

Here are the three rules about falling. Another anecdote; another wish-wash of creative editorializing, again: you really hate that you're quoting Momo on literally any of this, but unfortunately Momo has a lot of practical advice in the form of shitty armchair-psychology.

You know because you have a literal book full of the worst pithy maxims, delivered by her in varying states of drunkenness and hysteria and grudges borne of much heavier drama, all edited to her personal taste. It's a different thread, but also all part of the story: she and Sana are best friends. Take it or leave it.

Anyway: the rules,

1.) Grand gestures. Unreliable Narrations. Know that the idea is romantic, but the process is totally horrifying.

There aren't really any guidelines or requirements, not an exact science, anyway: there are softer, slower and easier ways to love than an impulse transcontinental flight; it comes in different forms, with much fewer headaches, far, far less red tape.

Try a knee nudge in a cab, a smoke-flavored kiss on the back porch, a text me when you get home, murmured in between yawns, the click of heels coming into the house after work - maybe, outside her apartment, making out against a wall of bricks like it's all you'll get, breathless and laughing under streetlights; if Sana were any less captivating (a loaded word if there ever was one) there'd be no good reason to think or to dwell on the semantics.

2.) Bending at the knees makes you less likely to get a concussion when you lose your balance. It's still risky, still a shot in the dark: in physics, there's a certain amount of grace under pressure - Sana's adored not by men, not by people, but by the universe itself.

It feels like: she's too loved, too known. The number of followers she has is, frankly, abhorrent to your sensibilities.

3.) An object at rest remains at rest: it is up to someone else to try and change its trajectory.

For all practical intents, purpose and reasonable application: forget them.

The only lesson that counts is 4.) Fuck logic, and that goes in the book.

February 14th.

Presently, we're flying at an altitude of twenty-eight-thousand feet as we begin our descent into Charles de Gaulle Airport. I'd like to ask you to please fasten your seatbelts, place all tray-tables and upright seats in their fully-vertical positions and power off all personal electronic devices. The local temperature at the landing strip is eleven-degrees celsius or about fifty-two degrees Fahrenheit. The forecast for the rest of the afternoon predicts clear blue skies, and we would like to thank you for flying Air France. Please have your passports and immigration documents handy for quick and efficient processing.

Then the same message in French, you're guessing. Welcome then, to the City of Light.

Your cell service pings back to life as you navigate through customs. Her texts and voice-mails are short, clipped, inane: news bulletins of random things she's heard of, things that catch her attention, new designs, newly-founded associations, this gallery and that gallery, this statue, that museum - all without her own commentary or editorializing.

The deluge of information almost makes her seem impersonal, disconnected from her own thoughts, like you're getting everything secondhand. Like it's accidental.

9:00 AM - Sana: oh btw just saw the 80's hairdressing revival special in studio e. 7000 times worse than the 70's one. nothing. nada. not a single ounce of cool. not like, at ALL.

Sana: never in my life will I EVER, in the history of fashion, agree with it.

Sana: photo attached

The photo is honest-to-god terrible. You have no idea what she's referencing.

11:30 AM - Sana: idk how it happened or why, but there's this tennis match thing i guess i'm supposed to be at

Sana: im honestly too zoned-out to tell whether i actually like this game lol

Sana: how tf does everyone know the rules. what is for-de-all? is that just a made-up thing people scream when a serve bounces into the net???

Sana: we'll see how it ends

Sana: ok the pro in the white suit is kinda hot and like, sosososo talented

Sana: he hits hard and his returns are perfect

Sana: how have i gone so long without knowing how deep i could get into the sports of men in fitted shorts??

There are countless more: small-talk, casual banter, lighthearted teasing, all going at her own speed of 5000 centimeters per second. You skim through, not sure how to parse the implications: she seems at best half-focused, unengaged, probably tired - maybe high on local-jet-lag, more interested in telling you she misses you and that her hotel room bed feels massive than telling you about her afternoons wandering art museums in a designer dress; oh, the magazines are frothing over her.

For reasons you don't feel entirely ready or qualified to address, you're reading between the lines to all sorts of things.

3:00 PM - Sana: could i call you? it'd just be like 5 minutes, i'm not busy or anything but idk if youre busy. not sure if you'll reply to this right away.

Sana: sorry don't mean to disturb you (´;︵;`)

Sana: well tbh i actually kinda do mean to interrupt.

She sends an obnoxiously bright, cloyingly pink 'V-Day' Gif in place of the last text and then doesn't answer. And suddenly, in a way you hadn't considered before - you think you're losing your goddamn mind, trying to construct an actual picture from fragments, assembling all the puzzle-pieces back into a single, discernible whole. She hasn't so much as signed off her text, let alone give you anything concrete to follow up on; this whole chain reads like the equivalent of sending her a lunch break meme, asking what her day looks like.

Inconveniently: it's the 14th of February, and Sana is the kind of person you'd get chocolates for - would tear open a Valentine's Day card and sign the message and seal it off with a stamp. It'd be tacky, and overly sappy and gaudily, horribly romantic - like a suitor from the Renaissance. You've always suspected she was something like an antique, in this very modern kind of way. It's how she looks best, all draped in antique jewels, chiffon and damask, dripping pearl and lace and silver threads, all in expensive, cosmopolitan aesthetic that makes sense within itself: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

The insanity is that it's making perfect sense right now. You have been ruined in ways unimaginable, and you have not, as Momo kindly warned you, even known.

You are not, in fact, alright - or casual about the situation.

You need flowers, urgently: this is a gift-giving crisis.

It's funny - this winter fling, as ill-fated as they come, a few months in: time seems to pass fast. Too fast, to the point where it starts to slip away in longer and longer increments, faster and faster, further and further intervals - like shadows stretching inexorably towards dusk.

There's no flowers, no cards, no nothing - and that is sort of the nature of it, the romance of the everyday.

You're in the metro so you can't even use your data, can't send her a quick selfie of your charming visage, with the background blurring like you're getting real poetic about it. No moon, no stars, no gaslight illuminating the dark. Just plain-ass subway tracks, a near-soviet expression of concrete, and some stupid ads for full-body waxes. The trains clear the station at 8:57 PM local time. That's Paris's time, Paris's city, her backdrop. The frame of this portrait.

So, in other words: you are not poetic, at all. You've probably got nothing in your hair except dust, dirt, and a bit of airfare grime. You've still got yesterday's cologne and nothing worth sending her except an afterthought.

No photos, no video, no cards, no ring; no pearls or lace, no gold and silk - and this is total luck, by the way; serendipity must still like her more - you look across the platform and watch the lights of another train arrive: the girl stepping off is stunning.

And even further in terms of non-comparisons: she's the type who laughs too hard at your jokes and wipes away the smeared tears on her cheeks afterwards, who will drop a dirty joke at every moment, who lets you see her mouth open in a perfect, dripping-wet gape, who will sink into the mattress after a good, rough fuck, the headboard creaking; a girl who will tell you your coffee is too bitter and when you ask, sweet enough? - she'll still say no; not yet; no; don't; harder, don't you dare stop - that type of girl, is the one inching off the metro, glancing down at the watch on her slender wrist.

The trains start again and the girl is left standing on her own. In another five seconds, someone will probably say, mademoiselle? - which, also: there's a class on language you have not passed; you'll pay that back later - and in response, she'll sigh deeply, stretch her arms out. Tilt her head upwards for some fresh air.

You blink once, twice: and no - that really is her, on the other end. Sana Minatozaki - somehow inexplicably, for no reason you're privy to - has materialized as though she just decided on a whim to visit her home planet again.

You call out across the chasm, like a man possessed, and it is incredibly loud, incredibly embarrassing, incredibly out of character. You hardly notice.

Your voice catches on the draft of the tunnels; it must've echoed. She spins around to see who's calling her.

When she spots you, her face glows.

"Holy fuck," she rasps, trying to catch her breath, putting her forehead to your shoulder. "Jesus christ. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"We were in the same city," you respond, hoarse and almost panting, palms flat against her skin. Your muscles have that third-rail electricity running through the tendons and straight on through, too; Sana feels like pure tension, just burning off. There's something vaguely buzz-high about you. "Couldn't resist. I was gonna call eventually-"

She hits your shoulder like she's mad, but her face has more or less melted in pleasure, her mouth parted into a wide smile, all sharp edges and incisors. Her hair's almost a disaster: you can see the barrette slipping out, the edges of it, the glittery accents; you think about getting your hand all knotted up in the up-do and pulling - just to watch her spill off the end of the spool, tightly wound, twining around you like ribbon, sinking in and refusing to leave.

The doorman tried to ask for your coats before you fell on each other - in the middle of the lobby, if that's possible - and it's not like he even really saw anything, you were sure: just saw her smile when you pressed the tip of your fingers up under her chin, just your thumb grazing her lip before you bent your mouth to hers and didn't come up for air.

The doors of the elevator up shut close, and suddenly there's nowhere left for you to go: no further to climb, to hide, to disappear.

"You," she begins, biting off the end of the sentence in exasperation, settling instead for letting the word trail away. Her lips ghost across the hollow of your throat, the curve of your jaw, the little dip between the column and your ear, pressing hard and insistent - marking her territory.

"Do you just, y'know, pop up in fucking New York once in a while, too, for like a spot of breakfast and then, yeah, I'm good." Her voice sounds tired, worn. It's kinda cute. "No plans to stay, nothing booked, just passing through, huh?" She taps your shoulder, pulling away to run her fingers through your hair. "Idiot," she breathes, in that saccharine way of hers, smiling; you are helpless; you are done for, fully done-for: she can take as many digs at you as she wants. "Also what the fuck, you didn't answer my texts," her face crumples a little when you grab her, haul her against you - holding on, tight. It's an intoxicating rush, seeing Sana falter like that.

She's as stunning off-kilter as she is put together: more real than any human being should be allowed.

"Well," you say, not apologetic at all. "It's a holiday."

"You're making it really hard to be angry right now," she replies, lifting herself in her pumps and slotting her lips over yours. This time, the kiss lingers. It is the point of departure, a threshold of arrival: who knows whether or not she can feel you melting beneath the heat of her fingertips. You want her to take as many soft, easy-going kisses as possible - a stack, a row, a wall. If she keeps leaning into you like that, you'll do just about anything. "Not just to make a boner joke, either," Sana whispers, fingers gripping onto your shoulders for balance. "I wanna go slow for once. Real gentle."

"Say that again?" You hum, unable to leave well enough alone.

"Something slow?" She lilts.

"A boner joke."

"God," she groans. "Would it kill you, you massive fucking prick, to have a modicum of compassion and not act like you're five?"

And look - there's not enough elevator for the whole story, let alone the novel it would be to properly explain everything there is to know about Sana; how the sky goes dusky-hued when the streetlights come on; how she always fiddles with her hands in her pockets when she's bored, the impatient flex of fingers, pulling at the loose threads. How you'd kiss her knuckles to calm her - how she was annoyed that she let you in the first place.

The story of the two of you would take, well - it'd take a few months.

"Actually," you counter, "it would. Probably kill me dead. Obituary, a single photo of a smirking ass in a dress suit. Very sad."

"Christ. I've put up with way too many assholes today," she huffs, shaking her head, "for you to be the way that you are."

"Oh, trust me. It's not my favorite either." You lean back, can't quite help it: she's not at all ruffled - only curious, only teasing. You pull her hips tighter towards you. She kisses you, sighs a little: her neck smells like orange-blossoms. You had no idea that could be as sensual as it is. "You'll just have to deal," you murmur.

"Like always," she complains.

"It is pretty rough."

Sana meets your grin. Her hand cups your face - it feels oddly tender.

"How," she says, slowly, the words very carefully enunciated - "the hell did you think this would turn out?"

You open your mouth: this is what you are capable of.

Sana never actually gets around to telling you the things she meant to say: the confession of a valentine, all sappy and serious, almost candid, with gravitas - a five-paragraph essay, four pages long.

It's a messy affair - you've got a fistful of hair and the other's shoved down the front of her skirt. She's been wanting to be here all day, it seems - you've seen the text-book spread of supermodels and old-money socialites and she's wanted a moment's escape from them all, has been pining for someone, anyone (most certainly you); waiting in her pretty dress and her high heels, a set of pearl earrings, the starlet curls of her hair - the clutch she left on the floor by the door because you shoved your hand underneath the fabric, said: I'll eat you out right fucking here.

So there's a common thread, if nothing else: you and Sana are verifiably incapable of having anything resembling a serious conversation. There isn't a single point of departure: the entire thing starts out casual and remains, firmly, casual.

You are deeply unserious people; this is just how it is. So clear from your head the ideas of saviours, soulmates.

You stumble together into the sitting room of her hotel suite - the luxury is appalling, almost, the floor-to-ceiling windows opening onto a gorgeous balcony and overlooking the Seine - "It's fashion week," is her excuse, "all the good penthouses have been booked since last November," she apologizes, which you can't really wrap your mind around anyway. You nod like that's reasonable, the right answer, pull at her lip with your teeth, and she melts right into the open palm of your other hand - oh, she'll fit well here. It's where she belongs: soft, sweet, yielding to you.

"Don't need your pity," she pants, breaking the contact to speak, to drag her tongue up your collar and up to the hinge of your jaw, grinding her hips down so that you hiss and close your fist tighter in her hair, give her that sudden tug, that sweet little rush: that thing she doesn't need, wants anyway.

Her expression flicks something in you - the eyes, the mouth; the trademark Sana-sneer. And suddenly you need to pin her to the wall, the floor, hold her still for the taste. You look up to get your bearings and find the world gone monochrome: night, cold, grey, grey-on-grey, black, dark - and that's fitting somehow. Sana tilts her head away to observe you back - you have a feeling she's observing how fucked-up you are over her already, and for some reason, you can't give her the satisfaction, not quite yet: can't admit the defeat of how you can't ever take your eyes off her, the thick swell of her legs and the smooth curves of her calves. Can't lay out what you'll do to her.

Though that's about when the storybook romance vanishes, and in its place - a more familiar arrangement; the reality you'd built with her over the past half year, the awful, easy rhythm you're going to settle back into with little ceremony: all playful affection, no sentiment. Zero pressure to pretend - or to pretend anything differently.

(Which brings you to this.)

"Sana," you drawl, grabbing her chin, making her twist in the direction of your touch. "Is that your dildo stuck to the coffee table?"

Because in the middle of all this, that's what she left lying out in plain sight: a some-odd inch silicon cock, unabashedly translucent, obscenely clear; with a ridiculously realistic head, veined shaft, balls - she had gotten her vibrator out of one suitcase and forgot the rest. It's literally sitting right next to the complimentary drinks; so obviously out-of-place, it's impossible that someone could mistake it for anything.

"Oh god," is the only reply, mortified. "Please, dont. I didn't think I'd be-"

"Should I be offended?" You are doing a truly appalling job at sounding seductive. You are, in fact, kind of choking down a laugh.

Sana takes a hand through her half-disassembled hair. Tosses the bobby-pin holding up her bangs: there. Full dishevelment - the effect is startling. You can almost trace the silhouette of a girl so very badly kept together; frayed ends, straying strands, half-gossamer and half-permanent dye.

"It's a toy," Sana explains, like you hadn't pieced together that much. She shrugs off a strap of her dress, the other. "It's just plastic and stuff." She looks at it. You can see the wheels turning, trying to figure out if it's worth salvaging. Then: "Here, c'mon - don't think. Don't," she tries, unconvincingly: "think too much about this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"I was planning to fuck myself senseless, maybe because somebody wasn't answering their texts," she adds, glibly. It is absolutely stunning, watching Sana Minatozaki shamefaced, pouting - trying and failing, failing miserably - to look even a little apologetic. "Just lemme - if you're into it, y'know, we could. Use. It. Or something."

"Or something."

It's too late: you're cracking up.

"This is really what you use on your off hours? On yourself?" You pick it up: it's heavier than you expect, mostly because the thing is made of clear jelly, probably some kind of latex-powdery-water concoction - just the sheer thought is bizarre, foreign to you. The base suction cups to...any surface, you suppose, to provide stability. It's not altogether very practical, now that you're getting a closer look. "Is this," and you hush conspiratorially, "Is this Jean-Pierre?"

Sana smacks the side of your arm, flushing. "Shut the fuck up," she responds, laughing. A beat later, her lips tilt. "His name's Woody."

"That sounds like a conversation starter."

"I shouldn't have to explain the reference."

"You're sure it's a he?"

"It's got testicles don't it?"

"Oh yeah," you say, weighing the toy in your hand. "Look at that."

"Would you just, like," Sana coughs delicately, looks around the room for something interesting. "-put it somewhere."

"Phrasing," you can't help but point out. "Jesus you moved the mirror in here, too."

And you'd caught the moment originally, when the blush had filled her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, all the way on to her ears. She had known. "Maybe you really did corrupt me," she counters, turning her head pointedly away. "Wiped away the good girl veneer and turned me into a degenerate pervert."

"Which is basically how you started," you remind her - and you catch her in your arms. She relaxes almost instantly; you sink a palm down the small of her back to rest in the dip of her spine. You've learned a little: Sana prefers closeness, intimacy, touch. No questions, no fanfare, no gimmicks, just the simple offer of body warmth. She'll curl into your chest and stay quiet, almost content; an ineffable smile leaking up the back of her throat as your nose tickles the side of her neck, mouth open and warm and pressed into her skin.

Her eyes crease. She feels more real, a little less ethereally divine.

"How could you?" she asks, faux-affronted. You can feel how she breaks character, the laughter reverberating against your fingertips. "I'm, like, so fucking demure."

It takes everything to resist kissing her until she moans: which is the danger. You do anyway, but at least the damage has already been done.

She locks her wrists loosely behind your neck. Kisses you slow. Heavy. Giggling - you've been demoted to giggles in the end, it seems, a slip from seductress back to child-like delight. "Seriously," Sana sighs, rolling her shoulders out and circling her hips slowly. Your heart drops. Your entire face turns hot; you're really fucking gone for this girl. "Wanna watch me ride it?"

The thing is, a bed-time story would have paper-hearts, and candles, and maybe a field of birds; an open space, a plush meadow, a wide, beautiful, clean canvas for this little romance to run wild across, uncontained.

Sana instead, reaches for a bottle of personal-lubricant, glances back with a smile; your breath catches - you think it's a momentary trip, a chemical reaction.

You realize it's the lighting instead, the frame of this moment. The simple concept of art, how the hues of the dark deepen, saturate into something a shade off - purples and blues; something to capture and press into paper, inked forever.

She holds the bottle above the end of the toy, pours generously. As you can already tell - no lack of initiative, imagination: she takes both her legs to the edge of the table, stretches them outward - makes a pretty little show of herself, arches her back off the glossy wood - and sets the tip just against the inner junction of her thighs. Sana pushes, tilts: gasps aloud, sharply inhaling, watching you watch her with heavy-lidded eyes. Her shoulders relax and the rest of her muscles follow the tension - easing in a slow, languid circle, hips grinding down. She sighs at the cool feel of it, before pulling it back to rest the edge just in-between her lips, a teasing movement, right where you would reach - two fingers inside, hook up and outwards and open, stretch her wide to fill.

The girl looks like sin, looks like decadence; near-saintly: holy and sacrosanct. You think they've beatified less.

Sana reaches with her free hand for the front of your shirt.

"You," she whispers, and your hands flex involuntarily.

"Yeah," you reply, soft, even-keeled. "Me."

(Romance me, she'd said, only half-sarcastic. Sweep me off my feet and ruin me. Then I'll show you just how obsessed I am with you.)

There's always the itch, the impulse: to undo and dismantle everything around her, take everything to pieces; reduce her to tears until all she knows is your hands and your voice. To stop treating her like a masterwork and treat her more like something you're carving out of a block of stone. Maybe she'd lose that divine edge; she'd fall from that angelic grace into something mortal, and it wouldn't be anyone's fault. Not really.

Well - until now; because this is all you.

"Oh, Sana," you murmur, watching her tear up like it's killing her. "God, look at you."

You’ve got your fingers running through her honey-blonde tresses, got her wet lips slipping down the length of your cock, got the cutest little whimpers coming from her chest when you push a little too far, force yourself a little too deep - got the prettiest girl on her knees, working your cock to the back of her throat and letting her hips grind a few more inches of silicon inside her. The visual isn’t even in competition, in comparison - her huge amber eyes all innocent and glassy, those flawlessly plush red lips - you really shouldn't do it; if she hates something it's being mussed up, but here she is, anyway, because if there's anything she hates more, it's not getting a full serving of exactly what she wants - and she's swallowing your dick down her tight little throat without asking anything in return.

"You love this, don't you, baby," and when she bobs up - sinks back down - your next breath drags through your teeth.

The mirror's behind her; you don't need the nod for confirmation.

You can see it clear as day: her pussy creaming, glistening as she takes it even deeper, leaving a white, glistening trail from the base to the tip of the silicon shaft - how far she's gone; how far she'll still go.

"You love having my cock down your throat," you keep talking, and you curl your fingers gently in her hair, not enough to guide or press, but Sana - bless her - takes it like an indication and does the work for you; she nods anyway.

The waterline of her big doe-eyes is swimming, nearly spilling over - and if this doesn't prove it, then nothing will, certainly not anything she could say herself.

But, really - you can't get over her face, and she must know that.

Prada, Fendi, Chanel, Dior - they've got similar ideas, sure; straight to the gutter, only if they could see how you're replicating their vision - her eyes: too huge, too shimmery, too imploring; her hair spills from your fists in loose, glossy coils; that magazine-cover-ready look all flushed, mascara-thick lashes wet from the strain, jaw a little slack to accommodate the size of you - you're not too much easier to take than the dildo stretching her cunt wide right now, either.

Oh, she's filled up on both accounts.

"Mmnhph," is how Sana hums around you, tongue working obscenely over the head. Her mouth feels velvety-tight on the upstroke.

It doesn't take much to forget her mouth's playing second-fiddle to the work her cunt's doing, and her free hand's curling tight around your thigh, a steadying mechanism - which, isn't that the very root of the matter: the first time you'd cum in her tight little pussy, hadn't it been just like that, where all the pieces slotted right back into place, a certain order to the chaos? The desperate cling of her pretty-fingernailed hand.

Eyes wet and blinking: trust, don't let me down.

And you'll indulge her like tomorrow's the end of the world. Work her through it; watch her fine eyebrows pinch tight together; note how her high-strung breathing sounds muffled in her nose. How she lets you slide to the edge of the chair to fuck her face, lifting your hips and knocking into the slightest gag-reflex possible. She gets progressively filthier, tongue lathing the underside of you, sucking the head with the tight seam of her lips whenever you pull back to give her a second to breathe.

"Jesus." Your fingers loosen in her hair, combing her wild bangs from her flushed face. It's suddenly delicate. Gentle. Doting. Sana's pretty little forehead deserves a kiss for how fast, how deep, she's taking your cock in the softest part of her throat.

"There we go - just relax, sweetheart," you tell her, the very same girl who is making herself cum in the full-length mirror: pussy stretched and pulsing wet around the toy. "Catch your breath."

She doesn't even flinch when you touch your thumb to her cheekbone, carefully pulling her face back, feeling the wet press of her tongue at the crown. But her lips pull into a pout like she's sad you're stopping her. "No more?"

You inhale, deeply, and try not to laugh out loud. Her cheeks have flushed this adorable rose color. "Baby," your voice trails off with a click, and it's entirely your fault for teasing her; you might not get out of this room for the rest of the night, after all. So much for red wine and valentine's on the Seine - the perfect, the picturesque-

"I can't help it," Sana cuts in. She doesn't even hesitate. If anyone can redefine perfection, well. She's wearing that look: her mouth an utterly sinful pucker and her tongue skimming pink up the wet mess her throat's made of you. Her big, heavy-lashed eyes gazing at at you, and her pupils - well, that's no doubt what happens when something hits too hard, and it's the last thing you should notice, really, in this moment.

Her tongue is flat, stuck out. Very pink. She slaps your cock against it. Jesus christ, you think.

But: who can blame you, when the gorgeous, nude, marble-perfect woman on her knees is riding her toy with no qualms whatsoever, gazing straight into your soul?

"The faces you're making are really fucking hot and it's valentines day and you, like, taste and smell so fucking good-"

"Okay." You're twitching in her hands, and it's making her give you the most awful bedroom eyes in the world. "Okay, baby, slow down-"

She doesn't, but she can't do much worse; Sana presses her plush, swollen bottom lip to the crown of your cock, makes a show of licking the precum beading from your slit - licks her lips like it's a present, like she'd flown halfway around the world just for that, and it's an ambrosia she'd rather savor than spill.

"Sana," and your laughter falls out in a gasp, because, fuck - she's got a tight grip on your thigh and the most selfish desire for your orgasm you've ever seen; her other hand is already set, too, the one rubbing away at her own dripping pussy, wrist working just underneath her, catching her clit. "You're going to make me cum like that."

"Okay," she tells you, all round-eyes and wet-mouth; she's so fucking insatiable. "Then cum."

You're not sure how a goddess who worships your cock ends up like this: propped up the hotel-furniture, sinking down a thick, gleaming dildo and the slightest hitch in her breath a fucking non-sequitur. "Fucking hell," you gasp. "Princess-"

And, well - it's not like you really protest; her mouth's already at the tip of you and she's working it there, in and out, with a teasing wetness.

She sighs, heavy, but also blissful; sinks lower in one, rolling agonizing movement; meets your eyes when you go heavy-lidded and biting your lip - like it's a competition for who can end up the worse wreck. She swallows, slowly, so slowly. Lets her nails lightly dig into the sensitive skin behind your balls, drags them back up with her tongue and her throat constricting.

It's her expert mouth, that's the thing. You close your eyes because you think you might cum right then; right down the back of her pretty, porcelain throat. You can hear her humming like she's enjoying it more than you - can hear the clicking sound in her throat when she bobs her head, fucks herself deeper. Can hear the slick, filthy slaps of her pussy taking the cock fastened to the coffee table under her. And, you think, opening your eyes just a crack: when your girl's making a mess of the expensive hardwood with the cream spilling from her needy cunt - that's worth giving into. That's an image so good and perfect and god-damned filthy that you'd bet, when you cum, all the devil will want is a deal for a replica, for a pact to possess every woman out there who fits the mold: this one's yours.

You're fucking her mouth so hard, she's drooling.

"Jesus- ah, fuck. I'm going to fucking cum, Sana," and, not that she listens, “down your fucking throat, honey- I'm, oh," - not that she cares, really - you've just managed to grit your teeth - to arch your back up like that could pull you out from the sensation: it doesn't.

She does moan around you, then. Pulls the vibration deep and uses her tongue, works the pink, slender muscle right down to where you're half-gagging her, making her eyes water.

It's easy to knot your fingers back in the locks of her hair, pull tight.

Easier still, her face is framed with your thighs and the effect's immediate - it feels as hot and wet and tight as a vice and your voice shakes along with the rest of your neurons, firing, collapsing, keening - and, of course: when your hand fisted in her hair tries to pull her hot mouth off your cock, well.

There's a few more inches of sloppy-wet friction and slippery-tight drag you hadn't really budgeted for.

You're cumming all over her face, not that you had much of a choice - it's just one wave and another, your thighs tensing and the breath going out of you in stilted, long, stuttering moans - Sana looks up, when your brain has unscrambled enough to register her name and the light of the world and the absolutely perverted expression she's got: there's a shot of cum that streaks across her closed eyelid and another string making a sticky-white mess out of her button-nose and, god-

You don't mean to cum in her hair, but-

"Fuck," your teeth clatter around a biting-gasp, "Sana, oh fuck," but - as expected, she does have your cock gripped tight at the base, her lashes clumped with the mess, her cheeks sticky-messy.

Sana's looking up with the innocent sort of mischief only she could ever get away with, you figure, cum-covered and beautiful: the good girl with her good girl mouth, all the evil inside of her.

She lets your cock fall out of her hand, down, with an obscene, wet thud, right where she can press it against her face - press it against those sharp cheekbones - and those doe-eyes, and those lips: the ones she draws across the dripping tip, pulls at them with a sultry sort of sigh. Sinking the curve of her nose down the belly side of your cock as you paint her, gasping for air; and it gets worse - when her tongue catches between your balls, when her lips are pouting right around the soft skin there and her soft moans make you pump the white-hot ropes of cum until it's a mess in her hairline, in the silky locks that fall to the crests of her ears and down to where they rest over her tits, hiding the flush of her hard, puffy nipples, her tiny little pink clit-

"Messy," Sana croons, without much of an inflection; one eyelid flutters open and a milky-stream runs down the curve of her cheek; the other seems hopelessly stuck.

Oh, she's usually such a wet blanket about getting anything in her hair (which is more often just an excuse to ride you brainless on the shower bench, but it doesn't come without her grumbling on the way), and even then she's lifting up off her heels and resting her chin on your thigh to make sure you can watch when she spreads the mess along her slender throat and back behind her ear, almost shy, drawing strands of cum into her mouth with her long-lashed eyes locked onto yours.

"It really hasn't been that long," and she says it with some exasperation, with a bubbly little bout of laughter that has the same weight as her pecking kisses along the muscles of your abs, cleaning her cum-hand against the patchy wetness across the flat plane. "Geez - you must've been so pent up -" and she stops for breath, for another suckle to your shaft; your cock twitches in her grip, the sensation too much, but it makes Sana give the most self-satisfied smile. It'd be unbearably irritating if she wasn't your entire universe - she is, so you try not to move as she steadies herself on your thighs; presses her messy face into the side of your throat and mewls. "All mine," Sana decides, sounding quite content about it. "Do you need a few minutes?"

She asks this like she isn't pumping you still, using her delicate fist to keep you upright for her while she speaks into the line of your jaw.

"Um," you say, before anything else. Before thinking about her clinging, wet heat around you. Before anything else: "yeah."

She purses her lips. Presses her free hand to your chest with a needy arch of her body. Pants for you, lashes falling shut - and, there's the problem, she's so much more fuckable like that. She's painted red from her cheeks all the way down her tits and you're just realizing how much drool fell off her chin, how much of a mess is between her tits, how much she revels in it - getting her face-fucked until neither of you can survive the fallout.

"How about," she huffs against you, all breath and the curve of a whine, "I clean this up," her hand's still tight at the base, where your nerves are singing with all sorts of new sensory input - "and god, your heart," she whispers, and her chin hooks over your thigh. She's looking up at you, ruined, flushed and dewy. "-is beating so fast for me -" she says, almost wistful.

That's the point, probably. It's the entire problem: she has a few ideas of how beautiful she is, the kind of destruction she wreaks.

Her breath catches in her chest when her hips shift back and that thick, fake cock pops out of her cunt; it sounds fucking filthy, and the softest of keening moans escapes her - it has the weight of your existence and she probably knows it; her amber gaze fluttering shut as she doesn't move for a second.

You don't either, can't really; Sana sliding up your body as graceful as ever, even naked and used-looking, leaves you barely functional and running on over-stim. "I mean," she starts, like the two words just tumbled out of her cunt with the rest of the mess and that's a great explanation; Sana's moving around in your lap anyway, dropping that nice, hard dildo on the seat beside you, still dripping. "I can't let you cum in my pussy," she says, all gentle matter-of-fact, while her mouth opens across the arch of your jaw and she gets cum down her wrist. "Well," she amends, "-not yet anyway, not right now," and she does look guilty, for some reason.

It makes your smile twist wry and unattractive, probably. "I'm good at controlling myself," you manage.

"Liar," says Sana, which is a reasonable reply. You'd laugh, but her cunt's wet and hot against you, already sinking, settling, just an inch deep into her cunt. It's easy to take in hand - you grip her hips, thumb her little pink clit.

Sana's response is to rut against it, rubbing all over where the swollen head of your cock rests between her thighs. Her smile goes a little blissed out, dreamy.

"There's another place," she's saying, while her hair spills down your arm, between you, sticking in the space between her tits, "that would be a perfect home for this thick, gorgeous cock."

"I think you should let Woody and I sort that out," and, shit, that doesn't make her stop moving, dragging her soaked slit over your shaft. "Maybe he'll be your valentine after all, huh, babe?"

Sana narrows her eyes, tilting her head forward in her best attempt at threatening. It's cute, almost, if your dick wasn't trapped between the wet heat of her body and your belly. You pick her up so, so easily. And that's hot, you think: your strength, her whole lithe-waisted petite-tits everything.

"Hey," her lips part against yours, a protest there - until you move her by the hips, pushing up and watching her spread for it.

And if that doesn't go straight to your ego.

Sana huffs, playing aloof, petulant - a character you draw out when she's really hoping and praying you'll fold her up and show her what the good parts of worship mean. "You think you can share?" she's asking you, voice already growing rough. She's trying to fuck back, take her hips again, but you still her with your palms, fingers sinking tighter and her ass spilling out between your knuckles.

"Get your knees back on the table for me, pretty girl," and you lift her as she squirms; set her down, until her body is arched forward, tits pressed punishingly to the hardwood.

You think you're maybe spending next-century's savings on a wet-dream made real; maybe being too rough, too mean about your hand twisting through that mess of golden-strawberry curls at the base of her spine and making her spine curve deep as she breathes out a heavy, messy curse.

"Give me what I deserve, then," and she can't reach under her body and tug at your cock, but she gets the words out. The order. "I'm aching, it's sore and empty and, it's so fucking tight," and that's not a demand but a whine. She wants you, that's the real point. "You know, I want," and she doesn't finish that, but:

She's blinking at her reflection in the glass, watching it. You really fucked up that pretty painting, and she's appraising the art, tilting her chin just a bit to appreciate the effort: how she's made to be wrecked.

You grab Woody, attach it to the table without thinking; the weight's warm, solid; he's hard-used and wet enough from her body that it's not an issue; there's enough lube leftover to slide your palm once or twice over and drag it wet across Sana's ass, around your length, even over Sana's pink cunt, wet and swollen and bunched with the toy she'd used, stretched deep as you'd seen. She whimpers out the softest sound, then, and you think: what a miracle, and maybe she does too because her hips arch into it like she's begging for praise, for your touch, anything; there's a few seconds of pressure, just enough time for you both to realize what's happened.

"This'll get messy, you know," you tell her, which isn't fair. "It won't feel the same in there," because your baby needs her explanations.

"Want to feel you both in my guts," is what she offers instead, and- yeah, it's so not fair for her to say stuff like that either.

You touch the silicone head to her puffy folds, ease him up and down - just how you would for her, only taking care to feel where she's pinkest. Where's the pressure on your fingers? There, probably, but there, too. Where does she gasp the softest when she's full and tensing in anticipation? Oh.

Her cunt is so slicked she sinks on it, opening fast and beautiful and dirty.

The sound Sana makes is unreal; no way to measure her reaction otherwise. You don't know whether it's good or bad; all you see is the way her reflection dips into nothing, into pain, but: her head jerks up in time to watch and she moans like she's begging - loud and pretty and shocked, eyes fluttering. Her hair falls like curtains around her face, a wildfire behind her. She's stunning; of course you think it.

"See that," she says, through clenched teeth, "the pretty way it pushes out of me-"

"Makes room for me," because yeah, fuck, okay. You know it too.

She's perfect for this: a body like she's the centerfold in a dirty magazine and then a disposition that says yes, you do want me like that. Or, she's asking for a pounding. That's the least you can do - straddle the surface with her, line your cockhead up, push just barely to the resistance - force Sana's hips down until Woody's bottomed and her legs shake for the first time.

"You good, baby?"

"You can," and-

Oh, man. "Let me do it," you tell her, sliding your hand up her back to grab her hair, winding it between the thick of your knuckles. "I'll take care of you, I promise-"

That's another shot in your veins: her lips bitten red, her expression ruined; the way her face falls for you like she's meeting you in that elevator for the very first time, the straw of her iced coffee between her lips, her nose wrinkling for the cliché.

She blinks at you again, nods and keens and oh-

Your cock works in that next fraction of an inch, just the head spreading Sana open.

"Holy-" but she chokes it back, so you'll keep doing this, making her think, fuck- "oh my-fuck-okay," is what she gives you, breathing in pants; what her expression tells you, the lines cutting over her brows and between her nose.

"Sana," is as far as you get, and Sana's grinding, gasping. She'll sob. She'll get loud. You can see from your angle; just feel how much it burns, the way Woody's working inside her, splitting her to the core.

You watch the line of her back work, tense, clench - where it's just that simple and base and human.

And the mirror's got the full story: it all comes up with the same obscene details - Sana's mouth a deep open pink, her eyes rolling closed as she swallows thickly - as she's wetting the air down and relaxing her whole body for it: her toes curling. She sinks another inch onto the toy, you figure, and she makes this fucked-up mewling noise, half-cry, half-begging. Your cum is tacky all over her front, drying sweaty; her makeup's runny. She's a disaster and so pornographically stunning.

You sink deeper, and she bucks, takes her time riding. "Feels- fucking incredible, doll, I'm going to start fucking you, ok?" and you groan; you are. You pull back, seeing where her cunt is creamed out and ruined, where there's the ghostly wet lube smeared on your cock, all sticky like her.

Sana nods, looking back - she finds your face, doesn't falter; she'll see her tits spilling against the table; the dark shade of her nipples. Her cunt's sliding over the toy in a rush; she's shimmying her whole body, impatient. You let go of her hair and touch between her shoulder blades to the base of her spine, marvel in the stretch of it, the pretty flush you're fucking into over and over.

"It feels-" Sana's talking, her forehead bowed against the table, her mouth hanging loose, "feels-good. Good. Amazing. Feels-" and she can't breathe, you know, but fuck, neither can you- "so. Full. Full."

You nod; know. She knows.

She's saying it for herself, in a slur, the words on the edge of a gasp: "I'm-holy-"

Your fingers pinch her ass, just gentle; enough to spread her, catch a view of her stretched asshole. Her teeth knock together - she's trembling for this. She'll cum.

"Trying to kill me," you tease, but fuck- it's good; so fucking good.

You've been brushing your cock to the back of this girl's throat and it's still the hottest thing you think you'll ever see; her personal toy buried to the hilt beneath you, just the tight little opening of her pussy fucked-out and slicked-up, raw and red and utterly ruined-

"Shh, sweetheart," you manage, burying yourself in as far as possible, leaning over. You move the hair falling into Sana's face and trace her features with the tip of your index finger, smudging a fingerprint of eyeliner. You're kissing her hair, her skin, tasting salt, sweat, cum: "Such a slut, taking that big fat toy all in you, opening you up-" and the last you get out isn't her name, it's a murmur- "look what a whore you're being," and her cunt is fucking throbbing-

You lean back, catch a sight of it; her thighs trembling and pinkish and oh, fuck, no. She's got one of her hands worked back and on her clit, stroking it feverishly-

"Baby-"

"I need you," is what she cries out; not an explanation. "So," and it's something mangled- "God, please. Come on."

She tells you twice; she can't help herself. Sana's ass is unbelievably tight. So pretty; so the little fucked-out cocksleeve you always needed. All her eyeliner's fucked to hell and her hair's still a knotted disaster; you've got all your inches inside her, she's pressing the heel of her hand to her clit and drawing patterns over her face with her fingers like she can't remember-

"My pussy, jesus-fucking-christ." Her mouth is falling slack again. "God. God. Harder, it feels too good, don't stop-"

"Such a good fucking girl," and there's this picture-perfect moment-

She cums. You're all up in her guts, spilling to the tight space, that she's fucked beyond the stretch and that's got to burn, paradoxically making her go all crazy with this feeling. Your cock's making space - you'd hate not fucking her until she's overfull and all those slick muscles are clenched and bruised-

"Does my princess need something?" you ask her, while your palm teases the flare of her hips. It's teasing; she won't stop; she'll cum again. You're pounding her ass and that toy's still there, buried to her cervix, her pussy's a mess and it's almost an itchy pleasure, too much stimulation, too sensitive; she's slick, sodden.

Sana is nodding furiously. One hand's doing it again, and the other's got the thumb trapped in her mouth; she's trying for silence; it won't last. Her throat's loud and filthy and you've always probably known, since the very beginning, that Sana loves taking you in whatever gorgeous, wet, tight hole she can.

"Please," she manages. Her hand's moving quicker- "Let me. Let me." And she's grinding against you, taking in every inch you have for her, arching her back; her clit is raw and throbbing and she's a fucking genius. A natural at begging. She deserves the win. She's being good. She's letting you fill her with cum.

You're not even fucking her into particularly fast, particularly deep, just grinding, using the tight ring of muscle, the heavy, bruising press.

"Tell me," and she can't focus- "Tell me when you're going to cum, princess. Can't wait to feel you-".

Oh. And, then-

You want it to last.

Her feet are tapping, toes curling into the hardwood, and it's over: she's tightening her grip against the table and making sure to keep the vibrations direct, her cheek pressed to the wood, drool drenching the corner of her lips. You've seen enough dirty shit, done enough kinky stuff. This - this might actually have you dumbfounded: watching her convulse; watching her bring her hand away, just touching. Her cunt's all milky and soft.

"Stay still, sweetheart," you're saying; as if she can move. You're holding her steady by her hips. You're massaging lightly; taking all the rest you can. "That's it, come here, you're so-" and your cock's easing its way out- "fucking."

She gasps when you slip all the way free; your cum slides back down. Sana's languid and fluid, skin sweating, hair everywhere. She's not crying, but it's the closest she's been in ages; the closest, most pure you can get a girl: your cum spilling out and all over you, and you're telling her it's alright, telling her she's gorgeous; saying it's okay she's already stretched herself so thin, exhaustion pooling, seeping out of her mouth, the line of her thighs and-

"Thank you." It's that genuine, melodic cadence, the honesty - it's that the first time she's looking down and she's blinking tears- "Want you to- right here," and she's moving forward, slowly.

You're cupping Sana's thighs before you can even think; lifting, bending them to her chest, her lips bitten, kiss-swollen. Her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth: Sana knows where this is going.

You can taste her. You can taste your own sins - the vanity, the hubris, the glutton, the greed - taste how wet, how flushed. She's putting that expert mouth to good use and keeping quiet again: a pant, a whine, an ahhhh, a whimpered half-curse. Her chest is flushed the prettiest, sweetest, lightest shade of red.

It's too intimate. You could lie in it, keep her warm like this until the very earth rotted. All the rough, dirty things you could do to her; it's almost sacrilegious that this is what brings the closest feeling of bliss, peace.

You don't realize how still everything is, all stilled, until Sana's small, quivering legs hook your shoulders; until the end of her toe brushes the shell of your ear, presses. Her spine arches into your mouth and the scent of her cunt - the taste. You could stay here, in your hands, and take, and - and give it right back: take, take, and take.

You eat her cunt until her voice is wrecked raw, your tongue dragging across her ass, over your lower lip, smearing her slickness, tasting her from your fingertips. She doesn't beg and she doesn't tell you what to do, she just spreads her pussy and rides her clit against your lips, moaning unashamedly as she rocks herself on your face, coming on your tongue in two, three hard, heavy pulses.

"Good fucking-"

"-God," you finish for her, and it's all the most sacred kind of silent. Your face buried back in between her thighs, just breathing. Just loving her, and holding her steady, because aftercare's a bigger part of the game than either of you let on, and you know she's ready and safe in your arms by now.

Sana pants and heaves, eyes shut. Bites her lips red as she smiles.

The lines of her face relax as if you're soothing her, tucking her in: good job, I've got you. When she isn't such a tender wreck, it'll happen all over again.

"You know," you say conversationally to Sana, who's lying in the fetal position at the foot of the bed, "you look cute right now."

It's another day, same time-zone, different house, same game. You've never stopped in your pursuit of what exactly a muse looks like: perfect, empty, caught in the bright white exposure of her hotel room lamp; all hard black-and-white, tonal range; in the scratch of the pen and the haze of the film developing, on the translucent material of the photo you'll print. There's the image, there's her breathing-

(There's all the ones you don't even know you'll find: her belly growing large, skin smoothing with child, a birth, a growth, a transformation; the dreams.)

-she's told you as much, but you can never know for certain if she really, truly-

"I'm dying," she grumbles. "You fucked me to death."

"You're bad for my ego." You plop down next to her and rub a hand between her shoulder blades. The curve of her back makes your fingers ache and your throat close up. "How do you feel, really."

Sana takes a moment before she replies.

"Hurt," she finally murmurs, quietly. You hum back a soothing noise. "But good. The best. Everything I've always wanted." She pauses. "Also: dead."

"You said that already." You're rolling your eyes, fondly.

She doesn't reply, just pushes herself up, legs crossing, one hip propped up. She's in a hotel bathrobe and she's supposed to be at a runway in an hour. "Hey."

"Yeah?" you're already tilting your head. She's sitting in the middle of the bed now, legs crossed under her; this is definitely a hotel robe, you've never been around her this long. "What's up?"

Sana just tucks her hair back, bares her shoulders and moves the fabric down the curve of her side.

"I told you," she starts, and her teeth snag on her bottom lip, "I think you're good," and she's suddenly shy: this little fuck-off of yours, of yours. "For me."

"You-" you start, and there's a way that things are and you have the gut instinct, the conviction of it, but-

(Then again, a girl with hair the color of a caramel confection and eyes you could be lost in for eons told you the other day without having to say it, eyes widening in the haze and light and gloss, that she could love you forever.)

"Yes," she answers, because it's your question, that slow smile making her features draw inward, the wrinkle of her nose: yes, it's your decision. That she's telling you the truth. "Exactly."

Actually, to frame this right, you probably ought to have started with her, at the girl with idyllic, copper-spun hair and a thousand-watt smile. It reads main-character energy from fifty feet away: you should've pulled the curtain back and simply said, meet Minatozaki Sana.

Your significant other, sorta - few people on earth know that, for a lot of reasons, and depending on the day, you can't be entirely sure if she wants it that way or if she'd rather scream it from the rooftops; Sana is - well, it's tricky. She's beautiful in a way you never got to conceptualize before, that nobody probably does. She's magnetic. It's effortless. It's gravity, and it's only natural that you'd always want to pull yourself back to her, to orbit her; she'd ask and you'd die, right?

She assumes you'll ask to marry her, someday - you're starting to suspect she's probably right.

And there's a pattern of nuance to how you know her, all the definitions of her - you bring her fresh-cut flowers, you call her princess, you fuck her until she begs, you hold her while she rinses her hair in the shower. You run your mouth, you eat her cunt until she can't walk straight. It's a big role, a broad palette to capture.

Sana, in the morning for example:

Can't drink her coffee black; steals sugar packets from cafes and slips them into her pocket; sleeps so still and so quietly that sometimes it almost scares you, worrying that she’s slipped off into a coma. She likes being doted on, likes getting compliments, likes melting under someone’s full attention as if she's waited for that from you her whole life. She says it directly: listen, okay, don't laugh at me, I get needy.

Or, beneath starlight:

Flitting across hotel balconies, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you into open bars.

She'll buy you a drink and loves when you buy her another, her glass never half-empty. She climbs on top of you and presses her mouth to your ear, sings the song in her head for the next five minutes, hips jolting when she sways a bit too far - a light bulb over a diner counter. Tips the waiter extravagantly, rolls her eyes when you lecture her for spending your money. Smiles at you anyway and takes your hand in hers on the way out the door.

Sana Minatozaki, on herself:

A nightmare. I don’t even know. Seriously. An absolute mess. Completely nuts. (You said you were a 'total fucking catch.') Oh, yeah. I guess that's true too.

(Or maybe, Sana, on you:

Well, when you ask on the flight out, she says something sweetly innocuous. When you press her again, she blushes. When she might be feeling especially adoring, she'll look at you and say, with utmost certainty and uncharacteristic lack of sarcasm, 'I mean, it's you. What more can I say?')

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

Debauchery: Part 1

~7.5k words, Part 1 of 3

“You can go first.”

“No please, you first.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“Mina please, you’re my senior.”

“Sakura, don’t do that,” Mina groaned with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t make this formal.”

“Fine, but then just call me Kkura,” Sakura smiled, spinning the chair in Mina’s direction.

Mina stepped forward and placed her knees on the chair, leaning forward over the backrest, and pressed her mouth against Sakura’s partially opened lips.

“Oh!” Sakura gasped, taken aback by the kiss. “I…”

“Was that okay? Kkura?” Mina teased, her lips curling up in a gentle smile.

Sakura hesitated, frozen in time for a moment, before answering.

“It… was…” she finally spoke, breathing heavily with each word. “It was just so sudden. I was surprised.”

“Surprised at how much you liked it?”

“No! I mean… I did… but…” Sakura stammered frantically. “You’re still my boss.”

“Was I still your boss last weekend?” Mina teased some more, smiling gleefully.

“Mina! I thought we weren’t going to talk about that?”

“Yeah, but then you just kissed me again out of nowhere,” Mina kept up the taunting. “And you know, the way you just melted against me-”

“I didn’t melt!” Sakura began blushing profusely.

Mina smirked proudly, loving every second of Sakura’s embarrassment.

“I can’t help but notice how much you’ve been watching me at work lately,” Mina spoke softly, getting off the chair and pushing it to the side slightly to get closer to Sakura. “Speaking of that kiss, did you feel a bit of a spark between us or was that just me?”

Sakura paused for another moment, taking a couple of deep inhales of Mina’s lavender perfume in, closing her eyes for a second before opening them back up and staring Mina in the eyes.

“Yes,” Sakura whispered back, leaning her mouth forward just slightly with pouted lips. “I did.”

“It felt like you wanted more.”

“Wanted more?”

“Do you not?” Mina’s lips curled up into a smirk again as she inched a bit closer to Sakura who still had her lips pouted ever so slightly. “If you want, we could try it again… just to confirm.”

“This is why you invited me over, isn’t it?” Sakura whispered, tilting her head a bit and moving even closer to Mina.

“Maybe it is.”

“Then hurry up and kiss me.”

Mina - almost literally - jumped at the opportunity and pressed her mouth forward against Sakura once more, kissing her deeply and tenderly, gently pressing her tongue into Sakura’s mouth.

“Am I interrupting something?” you chuckled as you entered the room.

“No,” Mina edged back, licking her lips. “Kkura here was just about to show me how good she is at FPS games.”

“I’m really not that good,” Sakura stammered, cheeks bright red.

“Then let’s just say fuck the games for now,” Mina cupped Sakura’s face with both hands and kissed her again.

This time, however, Sakura quickly pulled away. Her eyes were almost as big as her face, beautiful and round, as worry took over and she glanced in your direction.

“Don’t worry so much,” Mina giggled before giving Sakura’s ass a little slap. “You’re not getting in trouble for anything.”

“I don’t understand…” Sakura mumbled, unphased by the slap, eyes darting between Mina and you. “He knows about last weekend?”

“You mean when you kissed me at the work mixer? Or do you mean the part where you ended up taking me to the roof? Yeah, he knows,” Mina laughed at Sakura’s mortified reaction. “Kkura relax, just forget about me being your boss for the night. You had no issue last weekend.”

“Mina told me that same night,” you walked over to the two girls. “You know, you’re not even the first girl she’s messed around with from work.”

“And oh my God you gave me such a good time,” Mina moaned softly before pulling the chair back and forcing Sakura to sit in front of you. “Sit. I think it’s only fair that I give you what you want as a thank you.”

“What I want?” Sakura stammered as she sat down and looked up at you. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you were pretty drunk, but do you not remember what you told me?” Mina asked while leaning over the back of the chair and kissing Sakura on the cheek. “Don’t be shy about it, we both think your little crush on my boyfriend is super cute.”

“Crush? I don’t have…” Sakura’s voice trailed off as she began piecing everything together.

“What do you remember?” you asked as you unbuckled your pants. “From that night, after you ate my girlfriend’s ass, do you remember what you said?”

“Don’t be crass,” Mina slapped your arm, glaring at you. “Ignore him,” Mina turned her attention back to Sakura. “Kkura sweetie, you asked for something pretty specific that night. Do you remember?”

“I take it this was all part of your plan?” Sakura chuckled nervously, her eyes fixated on your unbuttoned belt.

“Maybe,” Mina smiled and kissed Sakura’s cheek again. “Tell me, my sweet Kkura, do you still want to suck his cock?”

Sakura’s body jolted at the comment before she took a moment and began to relax.

“Now who’s being crass?” you chuckled under your breath.

“I assume I said that when I was drunk?” Sakura asked with a newfound calmness before pausing to look you straight in the eyes before continuing her response to Mina’s question. “Right after I ate your ass I bet?”

“That’s right,” you answered for Mina while placing one hand on the back of Sakura’s head and pulling her a bit closer to your crotch. “She told me you’re good with your mouth.”

“Maybe I am,” Sakura smirked, full of confidence now despite her blushed cheeks screaming embarrassment. “Want to find out?”

“Fuck the back-and-forth,” you groaned, pushing your hips forward a bit more. “I’ve been thinking about your sexy little mouth ever since Mina told me you wanted to suck my cock.”

Sakura smiled wide as she began undoing your pants and lowering them to your ankles. As soon as she released your cock from your underwear, it smacked against her face, making her flinch before she opened her mouth with pure desire behind her eyes.

“She’s practically drooling,” Mina laughed while grabbing Sakura’s hair and wrapping it into a makeshift bun. “I told you it was big.”

“Holy fuck,” Sakura mumbled, gripping your cock and stroking the full length slowly, taking her time to appreciate your size.

“Come on,” you moaned, grabbing Sakura’s wrist, guiding your cock towards her lips.

Sakura opened her mouth wide, welcoming your cock as you pushed into her throat. You grabbed her hand and pulled it off your shaft so that you could go deeper, pressing your cock as far down as you could. Once you felt too much resistance, you pulled back out, leaving Sakura gasping for air.

“It’s so fucking big,” Sakura croaked, catching her breath. “I can’t-”

“That’s what you wanted,” Mina giggled before reaching down and lifting up Sakura’s shirt. “Fuck, I love your tits. I'm honestly a bit jealous.”

Sakura moaned gracefully as Mina began playing with her chest, still staring at your cock with her lips slightly parted, waiting for you to make the next move. Her eyes were begging for you, as if she had this hunger that could only be lifted by your cock.

“They’re beautiful alright,” you mumbled, watching your girlfriend playing with Sakura’s tits as you stepped forward again and grabbed Sakura’s head with both hands. “You have no idea how much Mina has been raving about them these last few days.”

Sakura couldn’t respond before you pushed your cock into her mouth again. You didn’t even bother with any caution this time - not that you showed much the first time. Regardless, you pushed your cock forward about halfway into Sakura’s mouth before using your hands to maneuvre her head and fuck her senseless. You could see her body going limp as you went deeper and deeper, thrusting your cock hard while pulling her face into your body.

“You look so fucking good right now,” you moaned, tilting your head back, scrunching up your face.

Sakura continued to struggle on your cock before Mina finally saved her, giving her a chance to breathe by pulling her mouth off your cock. As Sakura gasped for air, Mina turned the chair around and began making out with her. Mina sucked up all of the drool dripping from Sakura’s lips after the face-fucking she just took.

“I could seriously fuck that pretty little face all night, I’d never get bored of it,” you commented casually, stroking back Sakura’s hair behind her ears while Mina moved down and began sucking on her tits. “But my girlfriend has other plans.”

“Oh?” Sakura looked down at Mina who had just released her nipple from her mouth. “And what would that be?”

“You don’t get to ask questions,” Mina hissed softly with an icy undertone that made your cock twitch. “In fact, no more talking either, you’ll just be doing whatever I tell you, okay?”

“Yes boss.”

“‘Boss’,” Mina smirked coyly. “I like that.”

Then, after giving Sakura’s tits a little slap, Mina pressed Sakura’s mouth against your balls. Instinctively, as they entered her mouth, Sakura took hold of your shaft and began stroking you gently - the girl needed no instruction.

“Good girl,” Mina smiled proudly as she began stripping off all her clothes, watching Sakura suck your balls proudly.

Once Mina had fully stripped down, she bent over at her hips and put your cock into her mouth. The view of Mina sucking your cock with Sakura licking your balls nearly made you blow in an instant, yet by some higher power you managed to hold on - at least for now. The two girls worked your cock in unison a bit more before swapping positions. Now Mina, who had dropped down to her knees, was licking your balls while Sakura was sucking your cock.

“You girls are going to make me fucking cum,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tight.

Mina released your balls with a little pop before joining Sakura on your shaft. Sakura, taking Mina’s lead, began licking your shaft up and down, both girls working in tandem to rub their tongues against your cock.

“I’m fucking serious,” you gasped as Sakura started kissing your shaft over and over.

“Then do it,” Mina whispered, her warm breath hitting your tip just the right way before she put it in your mouth.

Mina began working your tip hard, moving down your cock just slightly while applying pressure all around your head, her tongue massaging your frenulum. While she worked the tip, Sakura began licking your balls again, pressing her lips against your taint and kissing it deeply. The girl had no apprehension when it came to getting right up in there, pushing her mouth hard against your balls, licking them side to side.

“Mina…” you moaned as you felt the rush of euphoria shooting through your spine.

That was the last warning she’d get, within the next two or three seconds you felt your cock unloading cum relentlessly into Mina’s mouth. She held her lips tight against your tip, letting you fill her up, and Sakura kept prodding her tongue up against your balls the entire time. After the initial wave, Mina grabbed your cock and started stroking it, getting as much of your cum out as she could.

Once content, she lifted her mouth off your cock, spilling just a little bit on your shaft before she got off her knees and onto her feet again. Then, Mina gently took Sakura’s face in her hands and tilted her head up. Sakura obeyed without even being told and opened her mouth as Mina let a glob of your cum spill out of her lips and directly into Sakura’s mouth.

As soon as the cum landed on Sakura’s tongue, Mina bent down and kissed her, pressing her lips hard against Sakura’s. In a glorious, cum-filled kiss, the two girls began sharing the moment together, basically forgetting all about you as they played with your cum. Once pretty much all of it had moved from Mina’s mouth into Sakura’s, Mina leaned back and gently closed Sakura’s mouth with her hand, encouraging the girl to swallow it all - which she did with ease.

“Good girl,” Mina smiled as she motioned towards your cock. “You missed a spot.”

Without a second thought, Sakura leaned forward and licked the few streaks of cum left on your shaft, swallowing that as well. Then, Mina leaned in close and whispered something into Sakura’s ear. Whatever it was, she thought about it for at most a second before nodding excitedly at Mina.

“Such a good little girl,” Mina smiled, kissing Sakura again before climbing on the desk and sticking her ass up just slightly.

Sakura stood up from the chair and followed her to the desk. Once there, she took a moment to look over her shoulder back at you. While flashing you a smile, she pulled down her pants so that she was also completely nude and then bent over at her hips. While spreading her cheeks and flashing her pussy at you, Sakura pressed her face into Mina’s ass.

“Oh fuck I’ve missed this mouth,” Mina moaned loudly into the room. “Come on babe, give her what she deserves, give it to her good.”

“Gladly,” you muttered, mesmerized by how passionately Sakura was eating your girlfriend’s ass right now.

It was a beautiful scene as Mina’s back arched up, her shoulders flexed, and her head craned down towards the desk. Her legs were spread just enough and her ass was lifted to give Sakura easy access. Part of you was almost jealous of Sakura’s position.

That jealousy really didn’t last long though, not when you had a clear view of Sakura’s tight little pussy glistening before you. The girl was beyond excited, you could clearly see how wet she was. You walked up right behind her, pushing apart her cheeks just a little bit with your hands as you lined your cock up with her folds.

Just as you imagined, she was tight. But oh my God she was wet. Unbelievably. Sakura’s pussy felt fucking amazing right now, like pure heaven on your cock. It must have felt nice for her as well, because you heard a muffled but loud little half shriek half moan escape her lips the moment you pushed your way in. As you started gently thrusting your cock into Sakura’s tight pussy, you could see her back muscles flexing.

Even though you were willing to fuck her face hard earlier, for some reason you felt like being much more gentle with her now as you slowly eased your cock in and out of her pussy. She felt more delicate now - softer, definitely tighter, and just a bit more fragile in your hands. Maybe it was because you could see how amazing she was making Mina feel.

While still thrusting softly, you lightly pressed the back of Sakura’s head deeper into Mina’s ass just to see how she’d react. To your pleasant surprise, Sakura took that little pressure and doubled it herself, pressing her face even deeper into Mina’s ass until Mina began squirming like crazy. Sakura really was an angel.

Mina moaned hard, and you could have sworn you felt Sakura’s pussy tighten up a bit. Now, you decided, it was time to pick up the pace. You grabbed Sakura’s tiny waist and pressed her down against the edge of the desk, bracing her as you started thrusting with more force. You went harder and rougher until Sakura lifted her head out of Mina’s ass and began screaming, her legs shaking, and her knuckles white as they gripped the side of the desk.

“Pretty girl is cumming,” Mina sang gently as she slipped off the desk and watched Sakura with admiration.

Odds were pretty high that she didn’t even hear Mina’s words, as you could definitely feel Sakura cumming against your cock. The way her pussy began squeezing tighter, forcing you to fight just to stay in, it felt fucking unbelievable. Thankfully she was soaked, making it a bit easier to push in.

“Fuck you feel so - damn - good - right now,” you moaned, giving Sakura’s ass a hard slap before grabbing Mina’s arm and pulling her towards you.

“Oh!” Mina gasped with a giggle before immediately stifling it as you kissed her.

With your cock pumping inside Sakura, you kissed Mina hard and passionately, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Her pussy, even though it was relaxing a bit, was still squeezing your shaft so perfectly, warm and wet, coating your cock like a glove. Sakura was the perfect little fuckdoll for you, pussy designed perfectly to fit your cock.

“I’m going to cum again,” you whispered into Mina’s mouth before kissing her again.

As your lips met once more, you slipped your hand between her legs and began rubbing her wet clit. You toyed with her a bit, making her moan into your mouth, before slipping a finger into her asshole.

“Babe!” Mina gasped, shutting her eyes tight.

At that same moment, Sakura began moaning loudly into the air. Then, as Sakura began screaming, you felt her pussy clamp down even harder on your cock - she was cumming again. Each and every pulse could be felt through your shaft, each little gush of wet, each throb matching your own heat.

While Sakura finished once more on your cock, you pumped her pussy as hard as you could, nearing your own release rapidly. The finger you had in Mina’s ass was swiftly pulled out and the kiss ended as you began focusing everything in your body on fucking Sakura’s pussy.

Then, right before you could cum, you felt her body lose all energy as she began collapsing to the floor. Your cock slipped out of her pussy as she dropped to her knees and turned around. Sakura, face red and coated in sweat, looked up at you with her mouth open and her tits in her palms, pushed up together.

“Cum on me,” Sakura moaned, sticking her tongue out. “All over my body.”

Almost as if on cue, the first spurt of your cum shot forward right onto Sakura’s face. She jerked backwards instinctually as she closed her eyes before holding steady, taking the next two shots right to her face.

Mina, not wanting to be left out, also quickly dropped to her knees and began kissing your balls as the rest of your cum spilled out and began coating Sakura’s tits. You never would have expected so much, but Sakura’s chest was thoroughly coated in white while the last few dribbles of cum spilled on Mina’s cheek as she kissed your balls.

“I’m fucking spent,” you groaned, pulling the chair over and taking a seat.

“I can see that,” Mina giggled as she crawled over to Sakura.

The two girls lay down together and Mina began sucking on Sakura’s tits again, spreading your cum all over.

“That was amazing,” Sakura sighed, her chest heaving up and down as she caught her breath while Mina continued lapping up all the cum from her chest.

“How about we-” Mina began, pausing to kiss Sakura on the lips before continuing, “-head to the bedroom?”

Sakura and you exchanged glances before both of you began laughing.

“Alright, come on,” you got up with a smile and held your hand out for Sakura to take. “We’re not done yet.”

—

It was you who woke up first, when the sun started to peek through the curtains. After carefully removing yourself from the web of intertwined limbs on Mina's bed, you began to look for your clothes. Even though last night felt like a blur, you knew it was all real; Your body, aching with soreness, was ample proof that the night was real - and this wasn’t accounting for the two nude girls you just woke up next to. You were exhausted, but you were also experiencing a glow like no other this morning.

“You’re up early,” Sakura croaked from behind you.

“Morning,” you looked back over your shoulder to see her squinting. “Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she yawned, stretching her arms towards the roof, not caring at all about her tits being out. “Hey, do you think you could give me a ride home?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, picking up whatever garments you could find off the floor. “When?”

“Now’s fine,” she yawned again, gently lifting Mina’s arms off her and getting off the bed. “Let me just gargle some water or something real quick, my throat is on fire.”

“Sorry again.”

“Idiot,” Sakura chuckled, giving your shoulder a light hit as she walked past you to the bathroom.

Sakura’s figure was truly entrancing, that tiny waist with her gorgeous hips swaying back and forth with each step. Part of you almost wanted to follow her round ass into the bathroom to have another turn with her, even though you had plenty of fun with her last night. Instead, you refrained and turned to Mina.

“Babe,” you called out, giving her a couple of pats on her butt before palming her soft cheek. “I’m going to go drop Sakura off, alright?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned in her half-slumber.

“I’ll be back in a bit, text me if you need anything,” you added, leaning over and kissing her forehead before putting on the rest of your clothes.

—

“Not much of a morning person?” you asked while putting your car into park.

“Sorry?” Sakura asked, confused as she turned to you.

“You didn’t say a word the whole drive.”

“Oh,” Sakura began blushing slightly. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to muster up some courage.”

“Courage?”

“I wanted to ask if…” she hesitated before turning to face you with those beautiful puppy dog eyes. “If you’d like to come up for some breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“It’s a meal people have in the morning.”

“Sakura,” you burst out laughing. She smiled at you warmly as your laughter subsided. “Well, I mean, I guess I have time.”

“Perfect!” Sakura gushed as she got out of your car. “You like eggs, right?”

“Nah, hate them,” you replied while following Sakura to the elevators.

“Then you can sit there and watch me eat eggs I guess.”

“That sounds good to me,” you smirked at her. “I’ve really grown to enjoy sitting there and watching you swallow.”

“Stop!” Sakura whined as her smile slipped through her feigned annoyance. “My body hasn’t had a night like that in a while.”

“You also sore?”

“Yeah, all over,” Sakura giggled, exiting the elevator in front of you. “Your girlfriend is quite… intense.”

“Not like it’s your first time experiencing her,” you teased as Sakura unlocked the door to her apartment. “Shouldn’t you already know this?”

“That was different, I didn’t really have anything going inside me that night,” Sakura replied casually as she stepped into her kitchen and started the coffee machine. “I spent most of the evening between her legs.”

“Between her cheeks, you mean.”

“Are you ever gonna stop teasing me?” Sakura leaned against her countertop with her arms crossed. “So what if I eat ass?”

“After last night, nope,” you smiled at her. “And it’s not like I’m judging you for it, been there done that.”

She returned the smile, and you both paused to gaze at each other; Sakura was so pretty this morning, even though she just woke up. Mina showed you all of Sakura's social media accounts following the events of last weekend’s gathering. You admitted to Mina that you thought Sakura was absolutely stunning, which is the only reason last night even happened, even though Mina seemed slightly anxious about sharing you with another girl.

“Cream and sugar?” Sakura asked while turning around towards the coffee machine.

“Huh?” you snapped out of your trance. “You want me to cream on your face again?”

“Oh my God,” Sakura sighed with exasperation. “I’m really never living it down.”

“I’m just kidding,” you stepped up right behind Sakura and placed your hands on her hips and whispered into her ear. “But does the coffee really matter?”

“What?”

“Sakura,” you turned her around and pressed her back gently against the counter. “We both know why you asked me to come up, and it’s not for breakfast.”

“That’s a bold assumption,” Sakura replied with an aura of confidence. “Maybe I just wanted some company for breakfast?”

“Maybe, but I also know you don’t eat breakfast.”

“W-What…” she stammered, cheeks turning pink. “How did you-”

“I know a lot about you, Sakura,” you whispered while keeping eye contact. “So, am I right? Did you invite me up for eggs or for something else?”

Sakura hesitated, biting her lower lip and trying to avoid your gaze as her eyes darted around the room. Yet, they always managed to fall right back onto yours.

“Don’t be shy now,” you added gently while pushing her hair behind her ears. “After last night, there’s nothing you need to hide from me anymore.”

“What about Mi-”

“What about her?” you cut her off. “Not that she’d mind, but I won’t tell her anything either way.”

“But-”

“Sakura,” you spoke firmly and placed your hands on the counter around Sakura’s body. “Either you walk over to the stove, or you drop down to your knees, what’s it going to be?”

She hesitated for just a moment before you saw the flame ignite behind her eyes.

“You’re right,” she whispered softly, lifting her hands up to use the hair tie she had on her wrist as she bunched up her hair. “I don’t even have eggs.”

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled as Sakura slowly dropped down to her knees as you started unbuckling your pants. “I knew you couldn’t get enough of my cock.”

“Yeah, just like how you can’t get enough of my mouth,” Sakura replied as she pulled your pants down to your ankles.

“No I can’t,” you muttered under your breath as the sensation of Sakura’s mouth finding your tip again instantly sent waves of pleasure through your body.

With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on Sakura’s head and simply enjoyed letting her suck your cock with full control. You didn’t thrust your hips nor did you push her head, you just existed in the state of bliss that Sakura put you in. Gentle slurps were all you could hear as the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen.

“I love your cock so much,” Sakura gasped as she finally took a breath. She grabbed your shaft with her slender fingers and started stroking you while tilting her head down towards your balls. She gave them a quick kiss before sliding her tongue all the way up your shaft and engulfing your cock once more, bobbing her head up and down your length.

“Fucking hell Sakura,” you moaned softly, pushing your hands against the counter to hold yourself up. “Lemme see those tits again.”

Sakura slowly rose to her feet, her fingers finding your shaft as she leaned in close to you, giving you a couple of gentle strokes as she whispered. “You love my tits, don’t you?” she asked with a sly little smile.

“That’s right,” you replied as your hands landed on her hips, slowly sliding up her shirt. “I had the best sleep ever, laying my face on them.”

“Did you also like cumming all over them?”

“I don’t recall, jog my memory?” you smirked at her as your hands finally found her soft tits.

As you gave her a little squeeze, you leaned forward into her and kissed her on the lips. As soon as you tasted her, you realized despite all the events of last night, this was your first time kissing Sakura. A wave of warmth shot through you, it was hard to explain, it felt both wrong and right at the same time. Before you could think about it and figure out what was going on, Sakura had pulled back and taken your hand, walking you over to her couch.

Sakura, after pushing you onto the couch, began slowly taking off her shirt. She made sure to sway her body side to side, inching the fabric up tediously, exposing her tiny waist inch by inch. It was only once her shirt made it to her chest did she quickly swoop it off her body, sending her tits recoiling into a bounce that felt like it lasted an eternity - almost cartoonishly.

The show wasn’t over yet. You started stroking your cock gently as Sakura turned around, showing off her toned back, and bending at her hips. Slowly, oh so painstakingly slowly, Sakura lowered her pants to her ankles, kicking them away. Then, with just her panties on and nothing else, she took a seat on your lap, pushing your cock between her cheeks.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you whispered into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her body and palmed her tits.

“You like my tits that much?” Sakura whispered back, turning her face. “Wanna fuck them?”

Your cock began throbbing - which Sakura definitely felt as evident through her confident little giggles - and you squeezed Sakura’s tits hard between your fingers. There was no need to answer, Sakura already knew, and with an impressive smoothness she slid down your body and onto her knees in front of you.

“Just relax, let me do the work,” Sakura moaned softly as she pushed her tits together around your cock.

She started slowly, moving her tits up and down with her hands, making your entire length disappear between them. Then, once she had a rhythm going, she looked up directly into your eyes and began bouncing her entire body up and down, pushing her tits together hard, making a tight seal around your cock.

It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It wasn’t tight, but it was unbelievably soft and smooth - it just felt right having your cock between Sakura’s tits. You loved it. The sensation was unreal, you felt like you were getting close but not able to cum, as if Sakura was edging you, it just felt like a steady stream of dopamine straight to your brain.

This was when you realized you really couldn't cum like this, but it still felt so damn good that you didn’t want it to stop. Sakura, enthusiastic as ever, stopped only to let a glob of spit fall from her lips as lube for your cock. It was hard to tell if she was enjoying this, but she made sure to keep going, doing all the work while you sat there in utter bliss.

Enough was enough, the pressure was becoming too much for you to take. You needed to bust, and all you could think about was Sakura’s sexy little mouth again. The girl must have been able to read your mind, because all it took was a shared glance of understanding before Sakura let go of her tits, letting them bounce down with gravity as you pulled her up to the couch next to you.

Sakura, eager as ever, immediately bent down over your lap and started using her hand and mouth in tandem to suck you off as fast as she could. You reached your hand over and slipped it down the back of Sakura’s panties, palming her ass and squeezing softly as you closed your eyes and focused. WIth your other hand, you lightly pressed down on the back of Sakura’s head as she worked your cock with all her expertise.

“That’s it Sakura, that’s the spot,” you moaned, pushing her head just a bit harder. “Don’t fucking stop, I’m about to cum.”

She heard you, and she obliged. Sakura, without needing your push, throated your cock as hard as she could, going down almost your entire length with each push. At this point, you were so close that you found yourself thrusting your hips up into her mouth right up until you felt yourself about to cum.

Before the final little thrust, you let go of Sakura’s ass and used both hands to push her face down onto your cock as hard as you could, lifting your hips up and shooting your load straight down her throat. Sakura’s entire core was flexed as she steadied herself, taking all of your cum directly to the neck. As you felt yourself starting to relax, the pulsing slowing down, you let go of her head.

Sakura lifted herself up, taking a heavy gasp for air as a flood of white spilled out of her mouth before she immediately went right back down on your cock, sucking it up and down, making a mess all over your shaft. She didn’t care about all the cum coating her lips, she just wanted to suck your cock until it all came out.

“Oh fuck Sakura that feels good,” you cried out, giving her ass a small slap before bringing both hands up behind your head and shutting your eyes tight again, relishing in Sakura’s blowjob.

She kept going until you were completely drained, before she started slowly licking up your shaft, collecting as much of your cum as possible on her tongue. She dropped off the couch right onto her knees and made sure to look up at you, making eye contact as she scooped up all the cum she spilled on your cock.

“You’re such a dirty fucking girl,” you laughed softly, stroking her hair while she worked.

Sakura didn’t even reply, but her lips curled up into a smile as she kept that same enthusiasm, sucking your cock until all of the cum had been swallowed. Only then, after giving your balls one final little kiss and one last lick of your shaft, did Sakura finally stop.

“Done?” you chuckled.

“Done,” she beamed up at you before suddenly getting shy.

“What?”

She paused for a moment as if she needed the courage again before speaking.

“Can I kiss you again?” Sakura asked sheepishly.

“Sakura,” you began whispering a response before having a change of plans.

Instead of answering her directly, you decided to just pull her up to you and press your lips against hers. She seemed a bit nervous at first, but you just ignored it and kept going until eventually you could feel her warm up to you. Her hands began exploring your back, while you did the same with hers, Her legs wrapped around your body as she climbed on top of you in an attempt to have as much skin on skin contact possible, intertwining your bodies together as you kissed.

This went on for longer than you had initially expected. The second either one of you pulled back to take a quick breath, all it took was the tiniest bit of eye contact before you both mutually decided to kiss again. You closed your eyes each time, getting lost in the feeling and the moment that you got to share with this gorgeous girl. Finally, after a lifetime of kissing, your lips parted and didn’t reconnect, leaving Sakura breathing heavily above you.

“Yeah,” you muttered softly.

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed with a smile.

A moment of warmth passed, your bodies still attached, while you both just looked deeply into each other’s eyes.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?” you asked softly.

“No, why?”

“Would you let me…” you began before carefully picking Sakura up and placing her onto her back beneath you. “Could I?”

“You mean like, down there?” Sakura asked, cheeks turning rosey again.

“Yes, down there,” you clarified gently, cupping Sakura’s face in your hand gently. “All the fun we had last night and I never got so much as a taste.”

Sakura bit her lower lip gently before nodding up at you and taking a deep breath. She was tense, and you weren’t entirely sure why, but you were going to at least try relaxing her. You slid down her body gently until your face was between her legs which she had bent upwards, spreading them to make room for you. She lifted up her butt just slightly to help you ease off her panties, which you unhooked from her ankles and tossed across the room.

Her pussy was as gorgeous as ever, looking as tight and wet as you knew it was, but you didn’t rush it. Instead, you pressed your lips against her inner thigh and pressed down softly. This worked, as you could hear her breathing slow down and deepen. You kissed a bit closer. A drop spilled out of her pussy, sliding between her legs, leaving a trail for you to follow.

With some careful maneuvering, you pressed your mouth beneath her pussy and gave her a single lick, sliding your tongue up her skin. She let out a sharp breath, shivers shooting up her spine as your mouth made contact with her pussy for the first time. Maybe it was just the moment - definitely was just the moment - but Sakura had the best tasting pussy you have ever experienced.

“Please just this one, don’t go lower…” Sakura stammered nervously.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you reassured her. “Just try to relax, if you can.”

Before going forward, you reached up with both hands and grabbed Sakura’s, interlocking your fingers. Next, you gently blew some air against her pussy, feeling her strength as she squeezed down against your fingers. Now, before she could fully relax, you pressed your mouth against her pussy, listening for her soft moan as you began prodding at her clit with your tongue.

“You’re good at this,” Sakura moaned softly, her fingers tensing up between yours. “Really fucking good.”

“I have experience,” you replied cockily when you suddenly felt a tinge of guilt stab you in the heart.

The realization of what you were doing dawned on you all at once. Would Mina actually be okay with you having your face in another girl’s pussy - especially one who she knows has a crush on you? You kinda assumed it didn’t matter after the events of last night, but all of a sudden you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Does that experience tell you to always tease this much?” Sakura whined, rubbing a hand through your hair while her lower body squirmed. “Please, I’m close.”

“Are you?” you replied, deciding to put your concerns on the backburner temporarily, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling you had in your chest and focusing instead of the gorgeous tight little pussy inches away from your mouth.

It was all so confusing, because even though you were feeling guilty, your body just naturally pounced forward and you ended up putting Sakura’s pussy entirely in your mouth with your tongue laying flat against her clit. You pressed down, swaying side to side, loving the gentle tug of your hair with each of Sakura’s little moans.

“Oh yeah, just like that, just like-” Sakura cried out softly, lifting her body up off the cushions. “I’m going to- you’re going to make- fuck- please-”

None of it made any real sense, yet it still made sense - in a way? Fuck it, not like it mattered. What did matter was the two fingers you slipped into Sakura’s pussy, at least that’s what mattered to Sakura in this moment. You curled them up, trying your best to hit the right spots while sucking on her clit. Whatever you were doing, she fucking loved it. Her moans - or rather, screams - were ecstasy in the purest form. Her voice was peaking, making all sorts of noises that every other tenant could probably hear right now.

Then, as Sakura released the loudest cuss of the morning, you felt a massive gush burst out of Sakura’s pussy and right into your mouth. You leaned back, relishing in the sounds Sakura was making right now, while using just your two fingers to force Sakura to squirt a couple more times, not caring at all about the mess she was making on you.

“Stop,” Sakura sobbed, bringing her legs together and grabbing your wrist.

The mixed signals had you smiling as Sakura refused to let you pull out your fingers, all while begging for something. You didn’t know if she wanted you to stop or to keep going anymore, she wasn’t making much sense, but this had to be one of the best orgasms she’s ever had and you weren’t going to be the one to ruin it for her. So, instead, you just continued doing whatever didn’t make sense, all for her.

“Sakura,” you whispered gently as she finally began relaxing. You slipped your fingers out carefully and spread her legs gently, leaning forward to give her pussy - which was beyond drenched at this point - a soft kiss.

“Oh,” she moaned quietly, her eyes shut tight still.

“You good?”

“Fucking amazing,” she sighed, finally opening her eyes to look at you. That’s when she suddenly became overwhelmed with embarrassment and hid her face in her hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“For what?” you sat up, confused.

“I’ve never squirted before, I had no idea-”

“Oh,” you started laughing as you lay down on top of Sakura and moved her hands away. “I don’t give a shit about that, it’s fine.”

“But-”

She couldn’t finish her worry before you silenced her by kissing her softly on the mouth. You could feel she was still on edge, but it only lasted a moment before you felt the shift in her body. She kissed you back, with a passion beyond what you imagined. It was so incredibly tender, as if your lover, but it didn’t last long.

“I can feel your cock,” Sakura smiled up at you.

“Uh,” you hesitated, struggling to think of a line.

“Put it in me.”

Fuck, that was probably the hottest thing she could have ever said in this moment in your mind. The amount of raw horniness coursing through your veins right now made you feel like you were about to explode from the inside. And with that one line, doubt and hesitation was simply not possible right now, your cock was throbbing - almost painfully.

Your mind was all fuzzy as you fumbled around between Sakura’s legs, trying to find her entrance. Eventually, you found yourself in position, and with one swift little push you went all the way until your balls pressed against Sakura’s soft skin. She was so fucking unbelievably wet that it didn’t matter how tight her pussy was - you were able to move with ease.

It took almost no time at all for you to find a nice rhythm - not too fast but not too slow. With your cock pumping into Sakura’s pussy, you tilted yourself forward and gave her another kiss, one she returned without any restraint. You kept it going for as long as you could, your hands sliding up to her chest and gently resting against her tits.

Nothing could have made this moment better, really, so there was almost a bit of sadness when you felt it come to an end so quickly. Of course, that sadness was completely washed away by the insane amount of euphoria you felt as your cock exploded inside Sakura’s pussy. You didn’t even feel it coming, it only took maybe a minute of fucking Sakura for you to cum this time.

The way she kissed you through your entire orgasm felt divine, she didn’t care about how quickly you blew, she just cared about making you feel good. Your cock, slipping in and out of her pussy, kept pulsing and throbbing, shooting an absurd amount of cum into Sakura’s pussy. With a final squeeze of her tits and one final kiss, you sat up and pulled out.

“My God,” you muttered as you watched your cum spill from Sakura’s pussy.

“It’s beautiful,” Sakura sighed, watching as well for a moment before scooping up the cum and spreading it on her chest. “I can’t believe you still had this much in you.”

“I don’t know how it’s even possible,” you replied, finally now as the euphoria wore off feeling a bit embarrassed by how long you lasted.

“That was so fucking amazing,” Sakura smiled at you, almost as if reading your mind once more and noting your insecurity. “You were perfect, in every way, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, you were also amazing,” you leaned forward and kissed her again before she snuggled right up against your body.

“Best breakfast ever,” Sakura whispered quietly.

“I think the coffee might be cold by now.”

“Fuck the coffee.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled while rubbing Sakura’s side. “Alright, I should probably-”

“Five minutes?” she whispered with a vulnerability that made your heartbeat double in pace.

The way she was holding onto your body right now, there was literally no chance you’d deny her. You smiled softly to yourself, one she couldn’t see with her head resting against your chest, and leaned forward to kiss the top of Sakura’s head softly before pulling her tighter into your embrace.

Those five minutes stretched much longer than five minutes, but you didn’t care one bit.

---

A/N:

Well this came out of absolutely nowhere. Backstory, one of my fellow writers did a little writing project and the theme was "unlikely pairings". I know Mina x Sakura isn't the CRAZIEST mix, but it's still somewhat uncommon I think?! Funny enough, I also recently got an Ask about "which two odd pair idols do you think about a lot?" so this was really just all destined to happen.

Anyway, the 3k submission has now turned into a story that will be probably 20k+, so here's Part 1! Part 2 is actually already done (spoilers, there's more Mina), I'll release it in maybe a week to let this marinate a bit. Part 3 maybe a week after that. Each part should be roughly this length, with Part 3 possibly being a bit closer to 10k.

Regarding other projects! I am going to really sit down and get the next Dating Seraphs chapter going, it's well past due at this point. After that we'll see, either Roommates or Twice I think, but I can't say for sure. I don't have an insane amount of time to write at the moment, but I'm still somehow writing quite a bit!

Absolutely love the insane amount of support my community has been showing recently, seriously, you guys are the best. I can believe how supportive everyone is especially when I'm so insanely inconsistent. Feel free to give any feedback you'd like on this piece, or don't, totally up to you! Cheers <3

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

The Summer Guest ft. Sana

Sana x Male Reader

The heat wrapped around the house like a second skin.

Sana was here for the summer. She’d just quit her corporate job in the city—something about marketing, a bad manager, too many emails. She wanted to start her own business now. Something artistic, she said, something freeing. But first, she needed space. Time to breathe. And what better place than the quiet suburbs with her older sister and her stay-at-home husband? You.

Your wife worked long hours managing a boutique downtown. You worked from home—tech and marketing projects, mostly. Your days blurred together in email threads and analytics dashboards. Sana’s arrival jolted the routine. Not just because of her presence, but because of how present she was.

She was 27. Confident. That easy kind of sexy that didn’t even feel styled. Tight tank tops, soft skin, no makeup. Her laugh carried. Her hips swung just slightly when she walked. Her tits—gravity-defying, round, unapologetic. Her ass was the kind that made you imagine grabbing it in your sleep, holding it through denim or under a dress. Your wife was beautiful—always had been—but Sana had a pulse that throbbed through the air.

She fit herself into your life like a drop of ink in clear water. Subtle at first. Then unavoidable.

You noticed it in the mornings. Her robe never quite closed all the way. Her nipples pressed against the thin cotton, teasing without intention. Or maybe with. You couldn't tell.

The first awkward moment came three days in. You walked into the kitchen for coffee and saw her there—bent over the fridge, robe rising to show the curve of her thighs. Her bra sat draped on the counter. She looked up and smiled like it was nothing.

“Morning,” she said, voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you mumbled, eyes fixed too long before darting away.

Later, in the hallway, she passed you in a tiny tank top and shorts, bare feet padding against the wood. You turned to say something—you don’t even remember what—but your words caught because her nipples were hard, clearly visible, bouncing slightly with each step.

She didn’t mention it. Neither did you.

But you noticed her bra again that evening��forgotten on the laundry chair. Cream lace. Lightly padded. You imagined how it cupped her. How it felt under your palm.

She was everywhere. Curling up on your couch with one leg tucked under her, reading your books. Sipping wine barefoot on your porch, her toes painting idle patterns on the railing. Sitting too close on the loveseat with her thigh brushing yours. Not on purpose. Maybe.

Every interaction made your pulse climb. She knew how to stretch. She knew how to bend at the waist when she dropped something. She wore dresses that caught wind just right.

You found yourself timing your breaks to when she was likely in the kitchen. Once you stepped in to find her eating cherries with her fingers, juice sliding to her wrist. She sucked it clean, eyes on you.

“Want one?” she asked.

You said no. But you watched her mouth. The way her lips closed around the pit. You imagined things you shouldn’t.

One night, you went to get water and found her in the dim light of the fridge, wearing only a shirt. Your shirt. You recognized it. Too big on her, loose at the neck, hanging low enough to flash a cheek as she turned. She didn’t apologize. Just grabbed a bottle and padded back down the hallway. That was the night you started fantasizing.

Guilt followed you to bed.

You began avoiding eye contact. You locked the bathroom door when you showered. You double-checked the guest towels before doing laundry. Every small measure was an attempt at distance. But desire doesn’t care about rules. It festers in silence.

The turning point came a week in.

You were making lunch. She came up behind you, hands on the counter beside yours. Close enough to feel the heat off her skin.

“Smells good,” she said.

“It’s just grilled cheese,” you replied.

She leaned in, chin nearly on your shoulder. “Still. There’s something about watching a man cook.”

You didn’t answer. Her voice scraped nerves you didn’t know were exposed.

When you finally turned, she hadn’t moved. Inches apart. Her lips shiny, parted. Your gaze dropped to her chest, rising with each breath. You met her eyes. She didn’t blink.

“Do you ever think about things you shouldn’t?” she asked.

You should’ve walked away.

Instead, you lied. “No.”

She smiled. Bit her lip. Turned and walked out.

You couldn’t eat.

The grilled cheese turned to rubber in your hands. You scraped the plate into the trash, running water louder than it needed to be. Her smile lingered like the scent of her shampoo in the hallway—floral, sweet, innocent enough to feel like a lie.

The next morning, she was already on the porch when you stepped out. Legs crossed, sun catching on her thighs. A sports bra today. Tight. You told yourself that meant she was being decent. But the way it cupped her chest, the outline of her nipples firm under the fabric, told another story.

“Sleep okay?” she asked, voice like a lazy hum.

You nodded. “You?”

“Dreamed about thunder,” she said. “Woke up wet.”

You froze. She looked over with a sly smile. “From the rain, I mean.”

“Of course,” you muttered.

She laughed, the sound light and deliberate. You noticed how her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup.

That day, your wife texted—late shift, manager meeting, won’t be back until after dinner. The pattern had become familiar. You worked at the kitchen table. Sana moved through the house like she owned it.

At noon, she came out of the shower in nothing but a towel, damp hair dripping down her back. “Laundry room’s locked again,” she said, stepping close. “Mind unlocking it?”

You did. But not before your eyes dragged across the slope of her chest, towel barely holding.

“Thanks,” she said, and lingered too long.

By Thursday, you were avoiding her like a bad habit. But she kept reappearing—sweeping near you, reaching over you, laughing at nothing. You dropped a spoon. She bent to grab it first, ass grazing your thigh.

“Oops,” she whispered.

You started staying longer in your office, headphones on, door cracked just an inch.

But then came Saturday.

Your wife left early. Sana wandered in while you were fixing a leaking faucet. She stood in the doorway in cutoff shorts and a crop top, licking a popsicle with way too much attention.

“Need help?”

You said no. She sat anyway. Cross-legged, leaned forward, cleavage deep and shadowed.

“Why do you always run away from me?”

You tightened the wrench, jaw clenched. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She tilted her head. “So it’s all in my head?”

You didn’t answer.

That night, she sat on the porch swing while you grilled. Her foot kept brushing yours. When you looked, she held your gaze, licking BBQ sauce off her finger slowly.

After dinner, you washed dishes. She walked up behind you again. Same way as before. Only this time, her hand touched your hip.

“You keep pretending,” she whispered. “But I see how you look at me.”

Your hands shook in the soapy water. “I’m married.”

“I know,” she said, her breath against your neck. “That’s why it’s so hot.”

You turned, too fast, bumping into her. Your bodies met. Her chest against yours. Her breath catching.

“Tell me you don’t want it,” she said.

You couldn’t.

She leaned in, lips grazing your jaw. Not a kiss. Just a suggestion. Then she walked away.

You stood there, soaked, aroused, ashamed.

The next morning, she wore your wife’s robe.

“Laundry day,” she said, spinning slowly. It was too short on her. The belt tied low, hint of hip, hint of skin. You swallowed hard and left for a walk.

Later that day, she passed you a bowl of cherries. Same as before.

This time, you took one.

And watched her mouth suck the pit clean.

The moment felt suspended, sticky with intention. Her lips pursed around the pit, eyes holding yours as she rolled it slowly across her tongue. When she spit it into her palm, she did so gently, like the cherry was some sacred offering. Your throat tightened.

“You’ve been tense,” she said.

You scoffed, but it came out strangled. “Work.”

She stepped closer. “No, it’s not.”

The air between you shrank. She reached out, plucked another cherry, and pressed it to your lips. You hesitated.

“Bite it,” she whispered.

You did. Juice burst across your tongue. Her fingers brushed your chin, slow to fall away. Her breath was warm. She leaned in, slowly, waiting for resistance that never came.

The kiss wasn’t sudden. It was slow. Melted. Her lips opened just slightly, letting the taste of fruit and heat pass between you. You pulled back first.

“We can’t,” you said, voice low.

“But we already did,” she replied.

You left the kitchen. The cherry pit still in your mouth.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The next day, she caught you in the garage, shirtless, fixing the mower. She walked in barefoot, carrying two popsicles.

“Hot,” she said. You weren’t sure if she meant the day or you.

She bit into hers and made a soft noise of satisfaction. You tried to look away. Failed.

“You know what’s killing me?” she asked.

“Sana.”

She moved closer, slow, deliberate. “It’s this time of the month. My body’s aching. Like I’m empty and hungry in all the wrong places.” She licked the melting popsicle, slow circles. “Everything inside me wants to be filled. And it’s worse now. Every step, I feel it. Every brush of my thighs, every breeze through this thin shirt.”

You dropped the wrench. “Don’t do this.”

She didn’t stop. “I’ve been trying those herbal supplements. You know the ones? For energy and balance.” She chuckled. “But now all I do is wake up soaking. Touch myself twice before noon. And it’s not enough.”

She looked you in the eye. “I see you watching. I feel how you hold your breath when I pass. You want me.”

“You’re my sister-in-law,” you said, stepping back.

She smiled. “Your wife’s little sister.” She let the words drip like honey. “Her baby sister. And she left me here with you.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Doesn’t it?” she interrupted. “You think I don’t know how wrong this is? That’s why it’s been building. That’s why it’s this good already.”

She came closer, body warm, eyes glowing. “I’m not asking for promises. I’m asking for now. Right here. In this moment.”

She dropped the popsicle, let it clatter to the concrete.

Her shirt peeled off next. No bra. Her nipples peaked, skin flushed.

“I’m dripping,” she whispered. “I want you inside me. Raw. Deep. Like you mean it.”

You looked away, jaw clenched. “No condom.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s part of it. I want to feel everything. You, the heat, the pulse. I want to know what it’s like to be claimed.”

Her shorts slid down, slow, deliberate. No panties. Her thighs slick, bare, shameless.

“You can still say no,” she said. “I’ll walk away. But if you take one step toward me, I’m not stopping until you make me scream.”

You stepped.

Your hands caught her hips. She gasped, then crashed her mouth into yours. The kiss was teeth and tongue and wild hunger. Her hands fumbled at your waistband, pulling you close.

You didn’t lift her yet. Instead, you pulled back, foreheads pressed. Breathing hard.

“This is your sister’s house,” you muttered. “She sleeps in our bed.”

“And I sleep down the hall, alone,” Sana whispered, lips grazing your cheek. “Alone and wet every night. Because of you.”

She kissed your neck, soft, teasing, the tip of her tongue tracing your pulse. Her hands slid beneath your shirt, palms hungry. “She gets you. I hear her moans through the wall sometimes. I imagine you making me sound like that.”

You clenched your jaw, but your hands tightened on her hips.

“She’s going to come home eventually,” you said.

“I’ll be gone before she pulls into the driveway,” Sana whispered. “But you’ll still be shaking from it. Just like I will.”

Her fingers traced your waistband again, slipped beneath. She dropped to her knees, bare and glowing in the garage light, eyes lifted to yours.

“This is the worst thing I’ve ever done,” you whispered.

She smiled. “Good. That means you’ll remember it.”

She pressed her mouth against your stomach. Warm kisses trailing down your skin. Her voice barely audible. “I’ve been dreaming about this since the first week. Dreaming about sucking you until I forget my name. Until you forget hers.”

You groaned. “Sana—”

She stood and took your hand, guiding it down her stomach, between her legs. Her folds were soaked, swollen, eager. She leaned in, voice hot in your ear. “No one’s touched me in months. No one’s made me beg. I want to beg for you. Just once.”

You slid your fingers over her slit. She shivered, hips arching. “You’re insane.”

“Insane for you,” she said. “Do it, and I’ll carry it like a secret tattoo. No one will know. But you’ll never forget how I sounded.”

She sucked your earlobe, teeth grazing. “Say it. Say you want to fuck your wife’s baby sister.”

Your hands trembled.

“I want to hear you say it,” she whispered.

You exhaled, the words slipping before you could stop them. “I want to fuck my wife’s baby sister.”

Sana moaned like the words themselves touched her. Her lips crashed back to yours. Tongues tangling. Her thigh slid between yours, grinding against your need.

She reached down, wrapped her hand around you, guiding. “You’re already hard. You’ve been hard for days. Give it to me.”

Your mouth moved to her throat, biting gently. “This is a mistake.”

“It’s the best kind,” she whispered. “Now take me like you’ve wanted to.”

You paused. The garage walls felt too thin, too open, too exposed.

“No,” you said, breath catching. “Not here.”

She blinked, then followed your glance to the open window, the driveway. Her mouth parted. She nodded.

“Guest room,” you said.

Her eyes flared. She grabbed her shirt, didn’t bother to dress. Just clutched it to her chest and followed.

The hallway was silent. Your steps careful, adrenaline sharp. You shut the guest room door behind you.

She dropped the shirt. Naked. Wanting. Waiting.

And the lock clicked into place.

You stayed by the door, chest rising, hand still on the knob.

“Tell me you’re sure,” you said.

She turned slowly, stepping backward toward the bed. Her voice came low. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her body was golden in the dim light, curves casting soft shadows on the walls. She didn’t hide. She opened herself to you, arms loose at her sides, eyes burning.

You stepped forward. She met you halfway.

Her hands reached for the hem of your shirt, tugged it over your head. She kissed your collarbone, soft and reverent, then lower—chest, ribs, abdomen. “I want to feel all of you,” she murmured. “Slow. Like I’ve earned it.”

She sank to her knees, not to tease, but to worship. Her lips pressed to your hip, her cheek against your thigh. “You’ve been so good,” she whispered. “Resisting me. Thinking of her. But not now. Not in here.”

Her fingers slid along your waistband again, then underneath. She peeled everything down, exposing your length. Her eyes lit up. “You’re beautiful.”

She took you in her hand, slow, deliberate strokes, then kissed the tip. Just once.

Then she looked up. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” you said, without hesitation.

She smiled. “Then lie back. Let me show you how much.”

You did. And she followed, crawling onto the bed, eyes locked on yours. The hunger was there, but under it—something like awe.

She kissed you again. Longer this time. Deeper. Her body slid over yours, skin to skin, heat to heat. And the world disappeared.

She rocked against you, the soft friction of her body over your cock enough to make your hips buck. Her breath hitched.

“You feel like velvet,” she whispered, reaching down to guide you. Her fingers curled around your shaft again, sliding it against her slickness.

The tip kissed her entrance.

“Don’t hold back,” she breathed. “I want all of it.”

You pushed into her slowly, the warmth of her wrapping around you inch by inch. She gasped, hands bracing on your chest. Her nails dug in as your length filled her, thick and deep. Her thighs trembled.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “You’re perfect.”

You bottomed out. She held still, breath shivering, forehead pressed to yours.

“We shouldn’t,” you murmured.

Her eyes met yours. “But we are.”

She began to move, rolling her hips slow and steady, grinding herself down like she wanted to memorize your shape. Her lips brushed your ear. “This is what I’ve needed. Every night I touched myself, I thought of you. Of this.”

Your hands slid to her waist, guiding her rhythm. Her heat clenched around you. She whimpered when you thrust up, meeting her roll.

“You’re inside your wife’s little sister,” she whispered, and the filth of it made your cock throb. “She has no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She rode you harder, hair falling in your face, mouth open, gasps louder with every thrust. Your hands roamed her back, her ass, gripping, guiding.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you?” she cried.

You flipped her over in one motion, pressing her into the mattress. She moaned in shock and pleasure. Her legs spread wide, welcoming, needy.

“Show me,” she said breathlessly. “Show me how bad you want this.”

You grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed, body flush over hers. She gasped, eyes wide, then melted beneath your weight.

“I’m not one of your clumsy boys,” you said, voice gravel and heat. “You wanted a man—now take what that means.”

You drove into her, hard. Her back arched with a cry so raw it rattled the headboard. Her nails clawed at your grip but didn’t try to escape.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered. “You feel—fuck—you feel like nothing I’ve ever had.”

You slowed just enough to speak into her mouth. “You’ve been fucked by boys in suits. Quick, quiet, selfish.”

She nodded, gasping. “In bathrooms... offices... never like this.”

You ground your hips in deep circles, making her sob against your throat.

“They never made you beg,” you said.

“N-no,” she choked out.

You pulled nearly all the way out. Waited. Watched her writhe.

“Beg, Sana.”

“Please,” she moaned. “Please give it to me. Don’t tease. I need you.”

You thrust back in so deep she shouted, legs locking around you.

“Good girl,” you growled. “Now you know what it’s like to be taken.”

Your rhythm was relentless now—long, claiming strokes that made her entire body rock beneath you. Her tits bounced with every slam, nipples flushed, mouth slack.

She babbled your name, incoherent with bliss. Her pussy fluttered around you, desperate, soaked.

“You’re fucking ruined,” you whispered against her ear.

She cried out. “Yes—ruin me—I want it—I want you to wreck me.”

You pushed her thighs wider, deeper than before. Her eyes rolled back. Her moans broke into little whimpers, punched out with every thrust.

“Feel that?” you said, hand on her throat now, not squeezing, just holding.

She nodded frantically. “You’re everywhere. Inside me—oh god—you’re so deep.”

You kissed her hard. Possessive. A claim.

And she kissed back like she’d die without it.

Then she flipped you.

One motion—fluid, practiced—and suddenly you were on your back, and she was straddling you. Her hands pressed into your chest, her hips sinking down again with a wet, welcoming slide.

“Let me show you,” she said, breathless but steady, “what those boys never got.”

She rolled her hips in slow, grinding circles, squeezing you inside her, her thighs flexing. Her breasts bounced as she leaned over, lips at your ear.

“You’ve never done it like this with her, have you?”

You swallowed hard.

“She wouldn’t let you,” she said, riding you harder now, her fingers running down your chest, your sides. “Wouldn’t let you lay back and just feel.”

Your hands gripped her hips. You didn’t answer.

“That’s why I’m here,” she moaned. “To give you what she never could.”

Your guilt twisted, sharp and undeniable. But it didn’t stop your hips from meeting hers.

She smiled. “That’s it,” she whispered. “Give in to me. Just for tonight.”

And you did.

You reached up, one hand at the small of her back, the other cradling her jaw. You pulled her down and kissed her—long, deep, hungry. Her moan poured into your mouth as she kept moving, grinding slow and tight over your cock.

Then you sat up, keeping her wrapped around you, your arms around her waist, your chest to hers.

Face to face.

You kissed her again, tongues twisting, your bodies locked together. She clung to your shoulders, panting. Her hips rolled like a wave, slick and strong. Every time she came down, your breath hitched. She was tight, dripping, and utterly in control—but it was you who anchored her.

She broke the kiss just long enough to rest her forehead against yours. Her voice came out in a low tremble.

“Don’t make me fall in love with you.”

You froze.

She rocked once more, slower now, deeper. “Because if you do, I’ll take you.”

“Sana—”

Her laugh was breathless, bittersweet. “Like I did with my sister’s Barbies. When we were kids. I’d steal them. Hide them under my bed. Make them mine.”

Your heart twisted. Her pace didn’t stop.

“I’d wait until she was gone,” she whispered, “then pick the prettiest one. The one she liked most.” Her mouth kissed your cheek, your jaw, your lips again. “And I’d keep it. Pretend it had always belonged to me.”

You kissed her like you couldn’t help it.

She groaned softly. “So don’t love me, okay?” she whispered. “Just fuck me. Hard. Like I’m your favorite toy.”

And you held her tighter.

She ground down harder, riding you with filthy intention, her hips slamming with desperate rhythm. Her moans sharpened, breathy and raw. Every time she dropped her hips, her walls clenched like she meant to milk every drop from you.

“I can feel you twitching,” she gasped. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You grit your teeth. “No. I can’t. I’m not blowing inside you, Sana. You know we can’t.”

She slowed, still grinding, her voice purring against your ear. “But I want it so bad. Want to feel you paint me inside. Want to be your dirty secret, dripping with your cum while your wife’s at work.”

You groaned. “Don’t make this harder.”

Her lips brushed your cheek. “Then let me make it easy.”

She kissed you once—sweet, needy—and lifted off you, your cock bouncing slick against your stomach. Her hand found it instantly, stroking as she crawled down the bed.

Her voice turned playful, wicked. “You’re so fucking hard for me. You’ve been aching since I got here.”

She settled between your legs, hair wild, eyes shining. “Let me taste how much you wanted me. Let me swallow every drop like the filthy girl I am.”

Then she wrapped her lips around you, warm and perfect, tongue circling the head as she moaned like she was devouring a dessert.

You gasped. “Fuck, Sana—”

Her mouth slid deeper, taking more, her throat fluttering around your tip. She pulled back with a slick pop and giggled softly, eyes locked to yours.

“I always wanted to be your favorite. Let me prove I can be,” she whispered. “Just once. Let me ruin you for anyone else.”

Then she sank back down, bobbing slow, one hand teasing your base while the other stroked your thigh like she owned you.

You fisted the sheets, back arching. She didn’t stop. She moaned around you like your cock was her cure.

And you were about to break.

You warned her—one gasp, one broken word. She only moaned louder.

And then it hit.

Your back arched again, hips bucked. You spilled down her throat with a grunt, body spasming as she swallowed you greedily, lips sealed around your cock like she needed every drop.

When she finally pulled off, she sat back on her heels, grinning like the wicked little thing she was. She opened her mouth to show you—tongue out, thick with your cum.

She scooped some up with her fingers and rubbed it over her tits, teasing her nipples until they gleamed. “Pretty good show, huh?” she said, voice husky.

You could barely breathe.

She crawled back up beside you, her body still glowing, still needy. She kissed your cheek, then your chest, then lowered to your nipples, licking them with soft, slow flicks of her tongue. Her hand stroked your softening cock like she missed it already.

“That was perfect,” she whispered.

You stared at the ceiling, chest rising, heart pounding.

She curled against you, tracing circles on your stomach. “I’m here for another week.”

You didn’t answer.

She kissed your shoulder. “Think I’ll get another chance to make you lose your mind?”

Still, you couldn’t answer. You didn’t trust what would come out.

She smiled into your skin. “We’ll see.”

956 notes · View notes

waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

Tokyo Hot (MiSaMo)

A/N: So its going to be a new series/collection of one shots about Twice and their investor, aka me. The first chapter is the Misamo at Tokyo Dome, enjoy!

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In the private box at Tokyo Dome, sunlight streams through the massive dome, casting a glow that highlights the stunning, heart-stirring figures of Misamo. As TWICE's financial backer, I have long claimed all nine of them as my forbidden possessions, each one my slave. Tonight, I invited Mina, Sana, and Momo to serve as the opening pitch guests for the Major League Baseball friendly game in Japan. Dressed in white tops emblazoned with "Dodgers" and paired with tight blue jeans, their youthful and sensual allure is deadly, every inch of their skin whispering endless submission and devotion. Mina stands on the left, number 37, her long black hair cascading like silk to her shoulders, her snow-white skin as delicate as cream, her tall and slender frame boasting endless legs and a waist as flexible as a willow swaying in the breeze, exuding an elegant yet irresistible sensuality. In the middle is Sana, number 12, her brown wavy hair flowing like waves, her gentle aura laced with intense temptation, her eyes seemingly speaking, carrying a soul-stealing smile like a seductive abyss that draws one in. To the right is Momo, number 64, her black short hair sleek and sharp, her curves exquisite, her round and perky buttocks radiating mature wildness, every move dripping with allure, her full chest faintly visible under the short top, like forbidden fruit begging to be tasted. As the three stand by the field, the audience erupts in thunderous gasps of admiration, camera flashes flickering incessantly, yet unable to conceal the silent submission they harbor deep within toward my control, adding a layer of forbidden temptation.

As their master, I have long struck a deal with their management company, their bodies and souls belonging to me, a secret transaction that infuses every glance and gesture with a shiver-inducing devotion. While the audience in Tokyo Dome remains immersed in the game's aftermath, a familiar orgiastic feast unfolds quietly between us in the box, the air thick with a potent sensual aroma. The door is locked, shutting out the outside world's clamor, and I approach the three slowly, a satisfied smile curling my lips, my eyes gleaming with limitless dominion over their flesh, my pants bulging with a hard, rigid protrusion, exuding a primal masculine scent like a beast poised to devour its prey.

"My three little sluts, it's time to serve your master well tonight," I growl, my voice hoarse and authoritative, laced with an insatiable hunger for them, every word carrying an invisible command. My gaze roams freely over their bodies, savoring the treasures that are already mine, lingering on their chests, buttocks, and long legs, my smile deepening as if anticipating the wild revelry to come.

Mina steps forward first, her movements tinged with familiar obedience, biting her lower lip as her trembling hands slowly unbutton her top, revealing a black semi-transparent silk bra. Her cleavage is deep and mesmerizing, her two plump, white breasts straining against the fabric, so tempting they make one's blood race, as if beckoning my touch. Her fingers trace the bra's edge, unclasping it slowly, and her breasts spring free, nipples pink and erect, surrounded by a faint rosy halo that glows enticingly under the dim light, like ripe cherries waiting to be plucked, their flesh quivering slightly with each breath, exuding an alluring fragrance. Sana and Momo exchange a glance before beginning to shed their clothes as well, their naked bodies appearing utterly lascivious under the dim glow, like three perfect statues radiating deadly temptation. Mina's tall figure stands like a jade pillar, her waist slender, her abdomen flat without a trace of fat, the skin around her navel smooth as silk, glistening with seductive sheen; Sana's soft curves emit a warm allure, her skin so pale it’s nearly translucent, her private area faintly revealing a hint of pink, her sparse, neatly trimmed pubic hair like a meticulously groomed garden of temptation; Momo’s voluptuous form carries a hint of wantonness, her round buttocks perky, her full breasts trembling slightly in the air, exuding a strong sensual aura, the curves of her flesh casting seductive shadows under the light, utterly captivating.

I grin wickedly and yank Mina into my arms, roughly tearing off her already unclasped bra, my hands seizing her breasts with force, nails digging into the tender flesh. I pinch her nipple hard, eliciting a sharp cry from her, the sound laced with enticing shudders. Her breasts deform under my grip, nipples hardening like small pebbles, their areolas turning red from the pinching, a mix of pain and pleasure making her body tremble involuntarily, her juices overflowing uncontrollably between her legs, trickling down her inner thighs to leave a small puddle on the carpet, emitting a pungent sweet scent like a seductive signal. I lower my head, taking her left nipple into my mouth, biting down hard, my tongue swirling rapidly around it, producing a "slurp slurp" sound as saliva drips from the corner of my mouth onto her breasts, soaking them in a wet sheen, her nipple growing even harder, the areola flushing with a fine red rash, sending waves of tingling pleasure coursing through her like electricity. "Oh… Master… it stings… more…" Mina’s voice quivers, blending pain and ecstasy, her long black hair scattered over her shoulders, her snowy skin damp with sweat, exuding an enticing aroma like a flower ravaged by me, radiating forbidden allure. Her hands instinctively clutch my shoulders, nails digging into my flesh, leaving faint red marks, her eyes flickering with shame and submission, her chest heaving with rapid breaths, the elasticity of her breasts yielding under my palms, temptation inescapable.

My other hand reaches for Sana, pulling her roughly toward me, my mouth enveloping her right nipple, teeth tugging at the areola with force. Sana lets out a soft, "Oh… Master… it’s intense…" her voice so seductive it sets the blood racing, her brown wavy hair trembling with her body, exuding captivating motion. Her nipple turns red from sucking, the areola swelling like a ripe cherry, glistening with allure like a tempting fruit. My tongue flicks rapidly over her nipple, alternating between gentle bites and forceful sucks, producing "tsk tsk" sounds, her nipple stiffening under the stimulation, the areola flushing with a fine red rash, sending waves of tingling pleasure that make her body writhe involuntarily. Her hands instinctively wrap around my head, fingers threading into my hair, nails lightly scratching my scalp, moans spilling from her throat with a trembling seduction, like an enticing melody. Her juices squirt from her core, dripping onto the floor, trailing down her inner thighs, filling the box with a thick, sweet scent that amplifies the air’s seductive aura. Her legs quiver slightly, her labia parting to reveal pink inner flesh, her fluids dripping down her thighs onto the carpet with a "drip drip" sound, exuding a potent aroma like a sensual invitation.

Meanwhile, Momo takes the initiative to kneel, her knees sinking into the carpet, her trembling hands undoing my pants. As they slide down, a thick, rigid cock springs forth, nine inches long, veins bulging, the purple-red tip glistening with a bead of precum, exuding a strong musky scent like a powerful weapon aimed directly at Momo’s face, radiating primal temptation. Momo’s eyes are filled with submission and longing, her small mouth parting slightly as she licks the tip’s slit with her tongue, tasting the salty fluid, its intensity making her throat constrict yet igniting a strange excitement that deepens her hazy gaze. Her tongue dances around the head, teasing the slit, tracing the ridge, producing "slurp slurp" sounds as if savoring a precious candy, her movements brimming with seductive finesse. She slowly takes the entire head into her mouth, her lips sealing tightly around the shaft, bobbing up and down, her tongue agilely swirling inside, alternating between forceful sucks, light scrapes along the veins, and teasing the slit, stimulating every sensitive spot to the fullest, as if her lips and tongue are luring greater pleasure.

Momo’s oral skills are skilled and delicate, her black short hair swaying with her head’s motion, strands sticking to her cheeks damp with sweat, exuding extra allure as if each hair strand tempts the eye. Deep in her throat, "gurgle gurgle" swallowing sounds emerge as she tries to take the cock deeper, the head pressing into her throat, eliciting a choking sensation, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, trailing down her cheeks to drip onto her chest, mixing with her sweat to create a lascivious sheen like a seductive painting. Her hands aren’t idle—one grips the base, squeezing gently, the other massages my balls, fingertips caressing the folds, occasionally scraping lightly with her nails or cupping them tenderly, driving me to growl repeatedly, my voice hoarse with pleasure as if each touch ignites my desire. Her saliva overflows from the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin to wet her chest, the smooth skin of her cleavage slick with spit, radiating a lascivious glow like a sensual canvas. Her lips, stretched red by the cock, continue their relentless sucking, her throat producing gagging sounds, yet she shows no sign of stopping, as if this cock is her sole devotion, temptation inescapable. Her tongue glides rapidly along the shaft, teasing the slit with light flicks, enveloping the head with her tongue’s surface for forceful sucks, producing "slurp slurp" sounds that make my cock swell further, veins pulsing as if ready to erupt, exuding deadly allure. Her throat reddens from the pressure, emitting "woo woo" sounds, tears and saliva mixing to drip onto the carpet, releasing a potent scent like a marker of sensual air.

"Good… you filthy slut! Keep licking!" I roar, my voice brimming with conquering delight, tinged with seductive dominance. My hands thrust into Mina and Sana’s hair, forcibly pressing their heads down, Momo’s oral frenzy intensifying, the wet heat of her lips and tongue sending shivers of ecstasy through my body, my cock swelling larger in her mouth, veins throbbing as if on the verge of explosion, radiating unmatched temptation. I look down at Momo’s mouth stretched around my cock, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes, my voice hoarse as I command, "Deeper! Swallow my whole cock!" The tone weaves temptation with authority.

Obeying, Momo takes a deep breath, forcing the cock deeper into her throat, the head pressing into her esophagus, unleashing an intense choking sensation, the pinnacle of temptation. Her throat stretches open, emitting "woo woo" sounds, tears falling to the carpet, yet she persists with relentless sucking, as if determined to drain my desire with her mouth, exuding deadly sensuality. Her hands grip my balls, kneading gently, fingertips teasing the folds, driving my growls, my voice hoarse with pleasure like a seductive rhythm. Her saliva drips from her mouth, trailing down the shaft to her chest, the smooth skin of her cleavage wet with spit, glowing lasciviously like a sensual artwork. Her lips, reddened from the stretch, continue their fervent sucking, her throat producing gagging sounds without pause, as if this cock is her only faith, temptation irresistible.

Suddenly, I shove Mina onto the sofa, the rough motion nearly toppling her. I tear off her jeans and panties with urgent, merciless force, revealing her pink, tender core, labia slightly parted, inner walls pink, her pubic hair soaked with juices, exuding a potent scent that ignites lust like a seductive invitation. Mina’s core glows enticingly under the light, her labia plump and pink, inner flesh quivering, fluids seeping out to trickle down her buttock cleft onto the sofa with a "drip drip" sound, releasing a thick aroma that pierces the heart with temptation. I align my cock with her entrance, thrusting the head in hard, forcing apart her tight vagina, the inner flesh stretching with a "squish" sound like splashing water, producing an alluring noise. Mina gasps sharply, "Oh… Master… it’s overwhelming…" Her vagina clenches around my cock, inner walls trembling, juices squirting out to flow down her buttock cleft onto the sofa, forming a sticky puddle exuding sensual air.

I begin thrusting violently, the cock moving in and out, the head scraping her G-spot, each thrust hitting her womb, delivering a tearing pleasure like the height of temptation. Mina’s breasts jiggle wildly with the motion, nipples hardening to a deep purple like ripe grapes, glistening with allure. Her legs are forcibly spread, ankles gripped in my hands, toes curling, arches tensing, sweat trailing down her calves to drip onto the sofa like sensual accents. Her core, stuffed full by my cock, inner flesh scraped by the head, sends waves of tingling pleasure coursing through her, her moans escalating in pitch. Her long black hair scatters across the sofa, snowy skin damp with sweat, exuding an enticing sheen, cheeks flushed, eyes flickering with dazed submission like a seductive scene. Her vaginal walls quiver with each thrust, juices flowing more freely, dripping down her buttock cleft onto the sofa with "smack smack smack" sounds, blending with the rhythm of my thrusts like a lascivious symphony, temptation inescapable. My cock moves in and out of her core, the head striking her womb with each thrust, unleashing intense pleasure, her vaginal walls clinging tightly, inner flesh trembling, juices squirting down her buttock cleft to form a sticky puddle on the sofa, exuding sensual air. Her hands instinctively grip the sofa’s edge, nails digging into the leather, leaving faint scratches, her cries growing more fervent.

Sana crawls behind me, shedding her jeans to reveal her drenched core, labia swollen and red, juices dripping onto the carpet with a "drip drip" sound, exuding a rich aroma like a tempting fragrance. She rises on her toes, pressing her core against my back, hands kneading my chest, nails digging into my flesh, leaving faint red marks exuding alluring traces. Her core is already soaked, labia parted to reveal pink inner flesh, juices trailing down her thighs to drip onto the carpet, releasing a potent sweet scent like a sensual invitation. Her legs tremble slightly, her core rubbing against my back, sending waves of tingling pleasure, moans spilling from her throat with a trembling seduction like an enticing melody. I turn my head to kiss Sana’s mouth, my tongue plunging into her oral cavity, swirling with hers, teeth nipping her lower lip, producing "tsk tsk" sounds as saliva drips from our mouths onto her chest, soaking her breasts in a wet sheen exuding allure. My other hand reaches for Momo, two fingers sliding into her core, thrusting rapidly, thumb pressing her clit, eliciting a soft, "Oh… Master… it’s too much…" Her juices squirt out, trailing down my fingers to mix with the carpet’s wet spots, exuding a potent scent that pierces the heart with temptation.

"You three… are all mine! I’ll take you one by one!" I laugh maniacally, my voice brimming with beastly frenzy, laced with wild seduction. I yank Momo over, positioning her beside Mina, lifting her round buttocks, and thrusting into her from behind. Momo’s core is tighter than Mina’s, her inner flesh stretched by my cock with "squish squish" sounds, the head striking her womb, unleashing intense pleasure like the height of temptation. Her moans intertwine with Mina’s, the box filled with the "smack smack smack" of flesh colliding and their lustful cries, exuding sensual rhythm. Her buttocks redden from the impact, the two plump cheeks quivering, producing alluring sounds as if narrating her submission, temptation irresistible. Her hands brace on the sofa, nails digging into the leather, leaving faint scratches. Her black short hair sways with the motion, sweat trailing down her spine to drip onto the sofa, mixing with her juices to exude a potent scent like a seductive scene. Her core, stuffed full by my cock, inner flesh scraped by the head, sends waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, her moans rising in intensity. Her cheeks flush, eyes flickering with dazed submission like a seductive abyss. Her vaginal walls quiver with each thrust, juices flowing more freely, dripping down her buttock cleft onto the sofa with "smack smack smack" sounds, blending with the rhythm of my thrusts like a lascivious symphony, temptation inescapable. My cock moves in and out of her core, the head striking her womb with each thrust, unleashing intense pleasure, her vaginal walls clinging tightly, inner flesh trembling, juices squirting down her buttock cleft to form a sticky puddle on the sofa, exuding sensual air. Her hands instinctively grip the sofa’s edge, nails digging into the leather, leaving faint scratches, her cries growing more fervent.

I alternate between the two, sweat dripping onto their backs, juices and semen mingling, the carpet now a wet mess exuding enticing air. Seeing this, Sana takes the initiative, crawling onto Mina’s face, spreading her legs to let Mina’s tongue explore her core. Sana’s core is pink and wet, labia parted to reveal pink inner flesh, juices dripping onto Mina’s face, exuding a potent sweet scent like a tempting fragrance. Mina’s tongue deftly licks her clit, alternating between forceful sucks and gentle bites, drawing continuous moans from Sana, "Oh… Mina… don’t stop… it’s building…" Her breasts jiggle, nipples hardening, vaginal walls contracting, juices squirting onto Mina’s face, trailing down her chin to drip onto the sofa, exuding sensual air. Sana’s hands grip Mina’s hair, nails digging into her scalp, the sting driving Mina to lick more fervently, her tongue thrusting rapidly into Sana’s core with "slurp slurp" sounds, as if sucking a juicy peach, temptation irresistible. Sana’s moans grow louder, "Ah… Mina… it’s intense…" Her legs instinctively clamp around Mina’s head, toes curling, arches tensing, sweat trailing down her calves to drip onto the sofa like sensual accents. Her vaginal walls quiver with Mina’s licking, juices flowing more freely, dripping down her buttock cleft onto the sofa with "smack smack smack" sounds, blending with Mina’s tongue movements like a lascivious symphony, the pinnacle of temptation.

After several minutes, I reach my limit. I flip Momo over, thrusting hard into her core, a few fierce pumps culminating in a roar as I release scalding semen inside her. Momo’s climax hits, her vaginal walls contracting, juices squirting down her legs onto the carpet with a "hiss" sound, exuding enticing air. Her black short hair sticks to her cheeks, her face flushed with post-climax redness, eyes hazy, like a lingering seductive afterglow. I then turn to Sana and Mina, both thoroughly trained to obey, kneeling to receive my second release, semen splashing across their faces, Mina’s long black hair matted, Sana’s brown wavy hair streaked with white, trailing down their breasts to drip onto the carpet, forming a sticky puddle exuding sensual air. I pant heavily, looking down at the three, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes, my voice hoarse as I say, "You three filthy sluts are top-notch… we’re not done yet!" The tone brims with seductive provocation.

I pull Sana up, pressing her against the box’s glass window. Her hands brace on the glass, buttocks raised high, brown wavy hair cascading down her back, her graceful form casting an enticing reflection on the glass like a sensual scene. I thrust into her from behind, my cock forcing apart her labia to strike her womb. Sana’s moans echo through the box, "Oh… Master… it’s too deep…" Her breasts press against the glass, jiggling with each thrust, nipples scraping the cold surface, blending pain and pleasure like a seductive weave. Her core clenches my cock, inner flesh trembling with each thrust, juices trailing down her thighs to drip below the window with a "drip drip" sound, exuding a potent scent that pierces the heart with temptation. Her legs quiver slightly, her core stuffed full by my cock, inner flesh scraped by the head, sending waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, her moans rising in pitch. Her cheeks flush, eyes flickering with dazed submission like a seductive abyss. Her vaginal walls quiver with each thrust, juices flowing more freely, dripping down her thighs below the window with "smack smack smack" sounds, blending with the rhythm of my thrusts like a lascivious symphony, temptation inescapable. My cock moves in and out of her core, the head striking her womb with each thrust, unleashing intense pleasure, her vaginal walls clinging tightly, inner flesh trembling, juices squirting down her buttock cleft to form a sticky puddle below the window, exuding sensual air. Her hands instinctively grip the glass, nails leaving faint scratches, her cries growing more fervent.

Meanwhile, I order Mina and Momo to pleasure each other’s cores. Mina lies on the sofa, legs spread, Momo kneeling before her, tongue deftly licking her clit, alternating between forceful sucks and gentle bites, delivering waves of enticing pleasure. Mina’s core is pink and wet, labia parted to reveal pink inner flesh, juices dripping onto Momo’s face, exuding a potent scent like a tempting fragrance. Mina’s long black hair scatters across the sofa, moans continuous, "Oh… Momo… more…" Momo’s black short hair sways with her motion, her fingers sliding into Mina’s core, stirring her juices with "gurgle gurgle" sounds, exuding sensual rhythm. Mina’s legs instinctively clamp around Momo’s head, toes curling, sweat from her ankles dripping onto the sofa like sensual accents. Momo’s tongue thrusts rapidly into Mina’s core, teasing the clit with flicks, enveloping the labia with her tongue for forceful sucks, producing "slurp slurp" sounds that make Mina tremble, her moans growing louder, "Ah… Momo… it’s overwhelming…" Her vaginal walls contract violently, juices squirting onto Momo’s face, trailing down her chin to drip onto the sofa, exuding sensual air. Momo’s hands brace on Mina’s thighs, nails digging into her flesh, leaving faint red marks exuding alluring traces. Her tongue thrusts rapidly into Mina’s core, delivering waves of tingling pleasure, Mina’s cries escalating. Her body begins to convulse, her core clenching Momo’s fingers, inner flesh contracting violently, sending waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, the pinnacle of temptation.

Watching this, I quicken my thrusts into Sana, her moans turning to sharp gasps, "Oh… Master… I’m losing control…" Her core clenches my cock, inner flesh contracting violently, juices squirting down her thighs to drip below the window, exuding enticing air. I roar, releasing semen inside her, Sana’s body convulsing as she slumps against the glass, brown wavy hair disheveled across her back, face flushed with post-climax redness, eyes hazy, like a lingering seductive afterglow. I pant heavily, looking down at Sana, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes, my voice hoarse as I say, "You little slut, you came hard… you’re next!" The tone brims with seductive provocation.

I turn to Mina, pulling her up to sit on the sofa, spreading her legs, thrusting my cock into her core again. Her core is already soaked, labia parted to reveal pink inner flesh, juices dripping onto the sofa, exuding a potent scent like a tempting invitation. My cock strikes her womb hard, the head scraping her G-spot, delivering waves of intense pleasure like the height of temptation. Mina’s long black hair sways with her body’s motion, moans rising, "Oh… Master… it’s divine…" Her legs are forcibly spread, ankles gripped in my hands, toes curling, arches tensing, sweat trailing down her calves to drip onto the sofa like sensual accents. Her core, stuffed full by my cock, inner flesh scraped by the head, sends waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, her moans growing louder. Her cheeks flush, eyes flickering with dazed submission like a seductive abyss. Her vaginal walls quiver with each thrust, juices flowing more freely, dripping down her buttock cleft onto the sofa with "smack smack smack" sounds, blending with the rhythm of my thrusts like a lascivious symphony, temptation inescapable.

As I thrust, I order Momo to kneel beside the sofa and lick my balls. Her black short hair sticks to her cheeks, her tongue deftly licking, alternating between sucking and teasing the folds, stimulating my senses with alluring pleasure. Her tongue glides rapidly over my balls, flicking lightly, enveloping them with her tongue for forceful sucks, producing "slurp slurp" sounds that make my body tremble, growls escaping me, my voice hoarse with pleasure like a seductive rhythm. Her hands aren’t idle—one grips my cock’s base, squeezing gently, the other massages my inner thigh, fingertips caressing my skin, delivering waves of tingling pleasure, temptation inescapable.

"You… are such sluts… tighten up!" I growl, quickening my thrusts, my tone brimming with seductive dominance. My cock moves in and out of Mina’s core, producing "smack smack smack" sounds, the head striking her womb, delivering a tearing pleasure like the height of temptation. Her vaginal muscles tighten, clinging to my cock, inner flesh trembling with each thrust, unleashing immense pleasure, exuding sensual air. I growl, hands seizing Mina’s breasts, kneading forcefully, fingertips pinching her nipples, twisting hard, her moans escalating, "Oh… Master… it’s too much…" Her juices squirt out, trailing down the sofa to drip onto the carpet, forming a puddle exuding enticing air. I climax simultaneously, releasing semen inside her, both trembling in the afterglow, like the pinnacle of temptation.

I pant heavily, looking down at Mina, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes, my voice hoarse as I say, "You little slut, you came hard… you’re next!" The tone brims with seductive provocation. I pull Momo over, positioning her on all fours on the sofa, thrusting into her from behind. Her core is tight and wet, inner flesh enveloping my cock, delivering a choking pleasure like the height of temptation. My cock strikes her womb hard, the head scraping her inner walls, producing "squish squish" sounds exuding sensual rhythm. Momo’s moans rise again, "Oh… Master… it’s intense…" Her black short hair sways with the motion, buttocks reddening from the impact, the plump cheeks jiggling with each thrust, producing alluring sounds like a sensual invitation. As I thrust, I order Sana to lick Momo’s nipples, her brown wavy hair falling over Momo’s chest, tongue deftly licking, alternating between forceful sucks and gentle bites, Momo’s nipples hardening, areolas flushing with a faint red glow, exuding allure. Momo’s hands brace on the sofa, nails digging into the leather, leaving faint scratches. Her black short hair sways, sweat trailing down her spine to drip onto the sofa, mixing with her juices to exude a potent scent like a seductive scene. Her core, stuffed full by my cock, inner flesh scraped by the head, sends waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, her moans rising in intensity. Her cheeks flush, eyes flickering with dazed submission like a seductive abyss.

I look at Momo, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes, my voice hoarse as I say, "You little slut, your ass is so perky… I’ll enjoy you!" I quicken my thrusts, my cock moving in and out of her core, producing "smack smack smack" sounds, the head striking her womb, delivering a tearing pleasure like the height of temptation. Her vaginal muscles tighten, clinging to my cock, inner flesh trembling with each thrust, unleashing immense pleasure, exuding sensual air. I growl, hands seizing her buttocks, kneading forcefully, fingertips digging into her flesh, slapping hard, her moans escalating, "Oh… Master… it’s unbearable…" Her juices squirt out, trailing down the sofa to drip onto the carpet, forming a puddle exuding enticing air. I climax simultaneously, releasing semen inside her, both trembling in the afterglow, like the pinnacle of temptation.

I pant heavily, looking down at the three, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes, my voice hoarse as I say, "You three filthy sluts are top-notch… always ready to serve me!" I sit on the sofa, my cock still erect, exuding a potent musky scent, eyes burning with deeper desire like a flame of temptation. Mina, renowned for her hip-shaking dance, possesses unmatched riding skills, her agile buttocks dazzling me whether on stage or in private, exuding deadly allure. She rises slowly, eyes hazy, long black hair cascading down her back, sweat trailing down her spine to drip onto the sofa like sensual accents. Her body still ablaze with desire, she decides to claim a second round of pleasure, temptation irresistible.

Mina straddles me, facing me, gripping my cock—still hard despite its earlier release—and lowers herself slowly. Her buttocks begin to move, mimicking her stage hip-shaking dance, the flesh quivering with the rhythm, her tight core fully enveloping my cock, producing "smack smack" sounds like a rhythmic flesh performance exuding alluring tempo. Meanwhile, Momo and Sana kneel on either side, their heads converging on my groin, lips pressing against my balls, licking simultaneously. Momo’s tongue deftly traces the folds, alternating between gentle sucks and light bites, producing "slurp slurp" sounds exuding sensual air; Sana teases the other side with her tongue tip, enveloping the ball with her tongue for forceful sucks, delivering waves of tingling pleasure like a seductive melody. Their saliva mixes, trailing down my thighs to drip onto the sofa, exuding a potent scent that pierces the heart with temptation. Mina moans, "Oh… so intense… let me please you…" Her long black hair flies, breasts jiggling, nipples hardening like beans, vaginal walls clenching my cock, juices trailing down her thighs to drip onto the sofa, forming a puddle exuding sensual air. Her riding skills are unparalleled, buttocks rising and falling, alternating between rapid twists and slow rotations, swallowing my cock to the hilt, as if playing a lascivious tune with her body, temptation inescapable. Her core clenches my cock tightly, inner flesh trembling with each thrust, delivering immense pleasure like the height of temptation. Mina’s buttocks move agilely, flesh quivering with her motion, alternating between rapid ups and downs and slow spins, her core gripping my cock tightly, the head striking her womb, unleashing waves of tearing pleasure exuding sensual air. Her moans grow louder, "Ah… Master… it’s exquisite…" Her long black hair scatters over her shoulders, snowy skin damp with sweat, exuding an enticing sheen, cheeks flushed, eyes flickering with dazed submission like a seductive abyss. Her vaginal walls quiver with each thrust, juices flowing more freely, dripping down her buttock cleft onto the sofa with "smack smack smack" sounds, blending with the rhythm of my thrusts like a lascivious symphony.

Mina’s ride grows wilder, her buttocks spinning like a windmill, flesh quivering with the rhythm, her core clenching my cock tighter, inner flesh scraped by the head, sending waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, her moans escalating, "Oh… Master… I/m cumming…" Her body begins to convulse, her core clenching my cock, inner flesh contracting violently, sending waves of tingling pleasure like electricity through her, the pinnacle of temptation. Momo and Sana’s licking intensifies, Momo’s tongue gliding rapidly over my balls, flicking lightly, enveloping them with her tongue for forceful sucks, producing "slurp slurp" sounds exuding sensual air; Sana bites the other side gently, blending pain and pleasure, their saliva mixing to trail down my thighs, dripping onto the sofa, exuding a potent scent that pierces the heart with temptation. I growl, hands seizing Mina’s buttocks, kneading forcefully, fingertips digging into her flesh, slapping hard, her moans escalating, "Ah… Master… please… inside..." Her juices squirt out, trailing down the sofa to drip onto the carpet, forming a puddle exuding enticing air. I climax simultaneously, releasing semen inside her, both trembling in the afterglow, like the pinnacle of temptation. Momo and Sana’s tongues continue licking my balls, delivering waves of lingering pleasure, I pant heavily, looking down at the three, a flicker of smug satisfaction in my eyes.

Momo and Sana lift their heads, lips coated with saliva and sweat, eyes hazy as they look at me, exuding alluring afterglow, while Mina slumps against me, long black hair disheveled across her back, sweat trailing down her spine to drip onto the sofa like sensual accents.

A few days later, Misamo is invited to a variety show collaborating with MLB, the atmosphere lively as the three wear blue denim miniskirts, revealing their long legs, buttocks curves accentuated by the tight fabric, exuding a perky roundness. The show reaches its mid-break, staff guiding them to the dressing room to rest and prepare for the next segment. As the door closes gently, the room’s light is soft yet slightly dim, the air filled with a faint cosmetic fragrance mixed with their sweat, adding a layer of seductive aura.

However, as the three step inside, the lock clicks shut with a "clack," and they turn to see me already waiting, a familiar satisfied smile on my lips, eyes gleaming with limitless dominion over their flesh, exuding primal temptation. "We don't have much time, you know what to do." my voice low and commanding, I toss a bottle onto the nearby vanity, the crisp clink sounding like a seductive prelude.

Mina’s long black hair sways with her motion, standing near the mirror, her white top revealing a delicate waistline, denim miniskirt hugging her long thighs, exuding enticing curves. I give her no time to react, lunging forward to shove her against the vanity, the force making her buttocks collide with the edge with a "bang," vibrating the air with temptation. She gasps "Ah!" but can’t resist, my rough hand already lifting her skirt, revealing black lace panties, the thin fabric outlining her buttocks’ curve, temptation piercing the heart. The panties are yanked aside mercilessly, exposing her core, already slightly wet from tension and submission, labia pink, inner walls glistening faintly under the light like a seductive invitation. My cock, already rock-hard, is freed with urgent haste, nine inches long, veins bulging, purple-red tip beading with precum, exuding a potent musky scent like a sensual weapon. I align with her core and thrust hard, forcing apart her tight vagina with a "squish" sound like splashing water, producing an alluring noise. Mina’s moan erupts instantly, "Oh… Master… it’s too sudden…" Her hands brace weakly on the vanity, nails scraping the surface, leaving faint marks, long black hair disheveled across her cheeks, snowy skin beading with thin sweat, exuding an enticing sheen.

Sana and Momo freeze, then are cornered by my gaze. Sana’s brown wavy hair trembles with her rapid breaths, wearing a white pleated miniskirt, the hem slightly lifted to reveal her inner thigh’s soft skin, exuding alluring tenderness. I beckon her with a finger, and she kneels hesitantly, knees pressing into the carpet, moving behind me. Her small hands tremble as they touch my buttocks, the warm contact flushing her cheeks, adding a seductive red hue. She parts my cheeks slowly, exposing my tight anus with a hint of tempting air. Her tongue ventures out gently, licking the folds around my anus, delivering waves of tingling pleasure with low "slurp slurp" sounds like a sensual melody. Her tongue tip dances around the rim, dipping lightly, then sucking forcefully, saliva overflowing from her mouth to drip onto the carpet, exuding a potent scent that pierces the heart with temptation. Meanwhile, Momo is directed to kneel on the other side, her black short hair sticking to her cheeks, blue baseball jacket open to reveal a white top clinging to her full breasts, exuding mature sensuality. She lowers her head, tongue deftly licking my balls, alternating between gentle sucks and light bites, delivering waves of tingling pleasure like a seductive rhythm. Their movements intertwine, the air thick with sensual aroma.

One hand presses Mina’s buttocks, the other grips Sana’s hair, forcing her head deeper, her tongue licking my anus more forcefully, penetrating the tight folds with "gurgle" wet sounds, exuding enticing heat. Mina’s moans grow louder, "Oh… Master… it’s profound…" Her core, stuffed full by my cock, inner flesh trembling with each thrust, juices trailing down her inner thighs to form a small puddle on the vanity, exuding sensual air. Her breasts jiggle under the top, nipples hardening against the fabric, outlining faint shapes like a tempting signal. My thrusts grow fiercer, each one striking her womb, delivering tearing pleasure, her long black hair soaked with sweat, clinging to her back, cheeks flushed, eyes flickering with a mix of pain and pleasure, exuding seductive charm.

Sana’s tongue works my anus with increasing fervor, dipping deeper, sucking gently, saliva dripping from her mouth onto her chest, wetting her white top to reveal enticing skin, adding a sensual layer. Her hands grip my thighs instinctively, nails digging into my flesh, the sting drawing a growl, "Good… you filthy slut… keep licking!" The tone brims with seductive dominance. Momo’s tongue intensifies on my balls, teasing the folds, enveloping them with forceful sucks, producing "slurp slurp" sounds exuding sensual rhythm. Her black short hair sways, sweat trailing down her forehead to drip onto her hand, mixing with the carpet’s wet spots like a seductive scene.

The dressing room’s air grows thick, mingling with their moans, the "smack smack smack" of flesh colliding, and my heavy breaths, like a seductive symphony. The vanity’s cosmetic bottles tremble, a few lipsticks rolling to the floor with "tinkle" sounds, adding a sensual layer. Mina’s legs begin to shake, her core clenching my cock, inner flesh contracting violently, juices squirting down her buttock cleft to drip onto the floor, exuding enticing air. My thrusts grow wilder, one hand pressing Momo’s head toward my groin, aligning her and Sana’s movements into a tempting duet. Sana’s tongue thrusts rapidly into my anus, Momo’s lips and tongue roaming my balls and cock base, their saliva mixing to trail down my thighs, dripping onto the carpet, exuding a potent scent that pierces the heart with temptation.

Time ticks by, the dressing room’s lascivious atmosphere thickening, Mina’s moans turning to sharp cries, "Oh… Master… I can’t…" Her body convulses, climax nearing, exuding seductive afterglow. Sana and Momo’s lips and tongue explore my groin, delivering endless stimulation, my growls growing frequent, cock moving in and out of Mina’s core with "squish squish" sounds exuding sensual rhythm. The show’s prep noises approach outside, yet unable to interrupt this frenzied flesh feast, my eyes burning with conquest, Mina’s gaze hazy, Sana and Momo’s efforts deepening, as if this game will continue…

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

Paradise

Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader

Tags: addictive pussy, (a little) ass licking, car masturbation, "cock ring", concert, creampie, cum on thighs, facefucking, facesitting, footjob, lube, manager, mating press, no-hands blowjob, tan lines, thighjob, vibrator, visual, worshipping

Word count: 4097.

You had risen up the JYP rankings and managed to become the manager of one of their most coveted girls: the beautiful Taiwanese visual of Twice, Tzuyu. Your first assignment was going to be following her to the Coldplay concert where Twice would perform as the opening act.

Tzuyu was truly feeling herself on that stage, making some quite sexy moves as she performed to the big stadium crowd. You watched her at all times, her giving you a few winks from time to time as the performance went on.

After Tzuyu took a few pictures to post to her fans on Instagram, highlighting her beautiful red outfit, which she liked the most, she headed towards the car you were assigned to take her home. Her beauty was indeed otherworldly, and the more you looked at her, the more it felt like you were falling in love.

The journey towards Tzuyu's home went smoothly, and you were ready to park the car and open the door for her to get off until you heard a few wet noises come out from her side.

You looked at Tzuyu and saw her touching herself around her genital area. You were shocked such a shy beauty was so shameless to start masturbating in front of you. "What are you doing?" you ask her.

"Can't you see, manager oppa?" Tzuyu asked, keeping the pace of her masturbation. "Wanna see how wet I am?" she asks, pulling her panties to the side and showing you her pussy. You touch it, impressed by it being the prettiest pussy you've ever seen. "Wanna come inside, manager?" "I need someone to make me cum for the night," she continues.

Tzuyu takes the small vibrator out of her pussy, dropping some juices onto the car's seat. "I was feeling so good performing with this on," she says. "So that's why you were doing all those moves on stage?" you ask her. "Of course, manager oppa," she answers.

"Come inside, manager oppa," Tzuyu says, opening the car's door and guiding you upstairs into her house. "Look how wet that pussy is," she says, putting a couple of fingers inside it and tasting it while licking the vibrator.

Tzuyu opens the door of her bedroom for you. "I can make you cum without using my hands or my pussy," she says to you. "Wow, then show me," you tell her. "Lie on my bed," she commands. "This is the only time I'll use my hands," she continues, pulling your pants down and making your already hard cock promptly pop out.

"Are you ready for the no-hands challenge?" Tzuyu asks. She stays true to her words, impaling her pretty face straight on your hard pole. You're amazed by that view, one of the prettiest faces you've ever seen just getting stuffed full of your cock. She starts sucking it, making soft moaning sounds as she gets it deeper and deeper in her throat fairly easily.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," you moan, Tzuyu giving you an amazing no-hands blowjob. "Where did you learn those moves?" you ask her, hearing no answer as she stays focused on sucking your cock as hard as possible. You truly feel this could be paradise, that incredible Taiwanese beauty just shaking her mouth all over your cock nonstop, showing you how much she wanted something like this.

Tzuyu licks your shaft, her hands behind her back as she brags about getting your cock already throbbing hard. "Looks like it was very easy to get this big boy up," she says, taking it back in her mouth and getting her hair out of her face for you to get a better view of it sucking that big, fat cock. She takes it deep in her throat, getting sloppier as the blowjob goes on, her head-bobbing getting stronger and stronger.

You stay strong despite Tzuyu's incredible cock-sucking skill, telling her you never came from a blowjob before. "What else do you have?" You said you could make me cum without using your hands or pussy. I don't doubt it, but I think you'll need more," you tease her. "What else do I have? Well, let me show you, Manager Oppa," she answers.

"You know, manager oppa, the challenge was just using no hands or pussy, but I can use every other part of my body," she says, climbing up the bed after a few extra suckings and some worshipping of your balls. "Can you use your feet?" you ask her. "Of course," she says, bringing some lube and putting it on your cock as she wraps it between her soft yet a little sore feet after tonight's performance.

Tzuyu quickly picks up the pace, stroking your cock with her feet quite strongly. "I'll be so satisfied when I make you cum; that feels so good on my feet. I love watching your big cock sliding between them, manager oppa," she says, adding a little more lube to keep going with her strong massage. "Can you show me your tits?" you ask her. "Of course, manager oppa," Tzuyu answers, taking her top off and teasing you as she covers them at first before unveiling it.

The footjob continues for a couple more minutes, Tzuyu smiling as she enjoys the touch of your cock. Your cock hasn't been this hard in a while, and Tzuyu makes it even harder as she gets herself naked, playing with herself while stroking it, giving you the most amazing view of your life as she touches her pussy and lets out some soft moans out of her mouth.

"You like watching me playing with my pussy, manager oppa?" Tzuyu asks you, spreading her long legs for you to see. She keeps touching her clit and grabbing her cute boobs as she strokes your cock with her feet. You love seeing every inch of her tall, hot body, but the tan lines around her boobs and her crotch are what drive you crazy the most. "I know I can make you cum at any minute," she says. "And I'm gonna use my not-so-secret weapon to do it," she continues.

Tzuyu gets on top of you, crushing your cock with her thick thighs. You can quickly tell why she's earned the thighwanese nickname: the strength of her thighs squeezing your cock feels like your shaft just got smashed by a pair of 50-ton trucks. You can't resist and start humping your cock against them, fucking Tzuyu's amazing thighs the way you want to fuck her pussy, the bed creaking as you use all your strength trying to get past her meaty thighs.

You keep pushing as hard as you can, Tzuyu's honey thighs giving your cock no room to breathe. You grab her ass and keep pumping your cock between her thighs. "Oh, fuck," you groan. Your shaft rubs against Tzuyu's wet pussy, her thighs completely owning you. "Oh wow," you say as Tzuyu is now the one moving her body to meet your cock, pressing it right against her wet folds. You try to answer her moves by thrusting as hard as you can, but Tzuyu is relentless and meets your thrusts pound to pound.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum," you announce. These words coming out of your mouth only make Tzuyu push harder. "Cum for me, manager oppa," she commands, burying your shaft even further between her thighs. That makes you finally lose, pouring a waterfall of jizz all over her thick thighs. "Damn, I can't believe you made me cum like that," you tell her.

"Looks like I won the no-hands challenge," Tzuyu says with a big smile. You worship her like a goddess, cleaning the cum from her thighs with your tongue. "I'm just starting, manager oppa," she tells you. She promptly sits on your face, her tan lines around her pussy driving you crazy. "Worship me, manager oppa," she commands, you promptly obliging and eating her pussy out.

"Oh my God, yesss," Tzuyu moans as her pussy is all over your face. She spread her ass, enjoying your tongue all over her folds. "Fuck, you taste so good," you tell her. "Yes, my pussy tastes like paradise, manager oppa," she says. You can tell Tzuyu's pussy has some kind of magic effect on you, as your cock quickly gets hard again as you savor her honey juices.

"Damn, I've never eaten a pussy this good before," you tell Tzuyu, praising her gates of heaven and putting a pair of fingers circling her clit. "Thank you, Manager Oppa," Tzuyu says. "But are you ready to knock on my door?" she asks, spreading her long legs and guiding your cock inside her pussy, making it disappear between the tan line on her crotch.

"Oh my God," you groan as you enter Tzuyu's pussy. You thrust very slowly, enjoying watching her finger her clit. "You like that tight pussy, manager oppa?" she asks. "Yes, fuck, it's so tight," you say, very surprised. "And your cock feels so good inside it," she says.

"Fuck, that pussy is so hot," you tell Tzuyu, giving her tits a soft massage as you try to go deeper, but her tightness makes it really hard. "Looks like you need some more lube, manager oppa," she tells you, picking it up and pouring it on your cock.

"Stick that cock back in me, manager oppa, oh yes," Tzuyu says as she pushes it back in her pussy. "Fuck, you've got such an incredible pussy," you can't stop praising it. You finally manage to get deep inside her tall body. "YES, YES, YES," Tzuyu moans, her walls squeezing your cock as hard as possible. "Your pussy feels like paradise," you tell her.

"You should let me ride that big cock, manager oppa," Tzuyu says. "It's all yours," you tell her, lying on the bed. Tzuyu prepares it masterfully, sucking, stroking, and spitting on your cock as she gets ready to get on top of it, slapping it a couple times with her tongue for good measure as well. You start thrusting upward, fucking her pretty face as she takes your cock deep in her throat.

Tzuyu shares some kisses with you and rubs your shaft against her honey thighs as she prepares to spice things up. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you," she promises, stroking your cock a little bit more and enjoying edging you while kissing and smiling at you, stroking your cock hard to get it fully ready to jump on it, even rubbing it against the tan lines of her boobs.

"I'm gonna take every inch of it," Tzuyu says, adding some extra lube as she moves to sit on your cock. "Fuck, you're amazing," you tell her. Tzuyu keeps teasing you, licking your shaft a couple more times before her pretty mouth gets replaced by her wet folds grinding against your shaft, her tan lines. "Are you ready, manager oppa?" she asks. "Yes," you promptly answer her.

Tzuyu once again fulfills her promise, taking every inch of your cock inside her pussy. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard," she says just as she starts riding your cock, her soft moans as she starts very slow, adjusting to your massive length as she moves her baby-making hips. "Fuck yeah," she moans, a little out of breath after a tiring concert, but ready to ride it.

Tzuyu quickly finds the sweet spots inside her pussy, directing her bounces right at them. You look at her incredible body moving up and down your cock completely mesmerized, wondering how can a girl be so beautiful from head to toe like she is. Every part of her body is flawless: her pretty face, her cute boobs, her long torso, her pink pussy, her tanned skin, her long legs, and, best of all, her honey thighs.

"OH MY GOD, FUCK, AH, YEAH," Tzuyu moans as she tries to bounce as hard as she can, opening and closing her long legs in a very fast motion. "OH MY GOD, YES, YES, YES," she screams, her ass clapping against her hips. She slows down a bit, spinning on your cock and then pulling it out a bit to taste herself, sucking it like crazy and spitting all over your tip before some hard strokes and kissing you.

"Bounce harder," you tell Tzuyu, who promptly obliges and gives you the hardest possible ride. "You like my tight pussy wrapped all over your big cock, manager oppa?" she asks, not backing down and riding you like her life depended on it. "Oh wow, that's so fucking hot," you praise her.

Indeed, having sex with Tzuyu sometimes feels like the closest thing to fucking an actual goddess. "Oh, I love bouncing on this cock," she says to you. "It feels amazing when you bounce on it, baby," you tell her. Tzuyu slows down, taking a few long strokes up and down it, letting every inch sink inside her pink pussy. "Fuck, that's so hot," you tell her.

"I could ride this all night," Tzuyu says, fingering her clit and moaning harder. "OH MY GOD, FUCK YEAH," she screams. "OH FUCK, YES, YES, YES, I'M GONNA CUM," she announces, a couple of juices dripping down her pussy. "Come taste it, manager oppa," she says, grinding her folds in your face. You seize the opportunity of her riding your face again, tonguing her folds as hard as you can. "You want me to cum on your face, manager oppa?" Tzuyu asks. Of course you do, and hearing those words makes you push even harder.

"FUCKKKKK," Tzuyu moans as she squirts all over your face. You grab her legs, letting her thighs suffocate you as she closes them on your face and smashes it. You then grab her and pin her against the bed, sharing some passionate kisses with her. "I fucking love the way you fuck me," she says. You worship her body, licking her juicy pussy as she spreads it open for you. "OH FUCK," she moans.

"Sit on that cock, I want more," you tell Tzuyu. This time, she turns around, showing you her perfect ass as she goes back to bounce on your cock. "OH YES, YES, YES, YES," she moans. "I fucking love the way you ride it," you tell her, the tan lines on her butt driving you crazy. She glides along your cock at a leisurely pace. "Oh my God, that feels so fucking good," she says, spreading her ass and moaning.

"I feel so slutty riding my manager's cock," Tzuyu tells you. She spins a bit, squatting hard on your dick as her butt claps against your crotch. She grabs her ass, driving you even crazier. "Bet my tight, wet pussy feels amazing all over that cock," she says.

You can no longer resist the urge and start pumping up Tzuyu's pussy. "Please, don't stop, pound my tight little pussy," she begs, spreading her legs to take your hard thrusts. "OH MY GOD, YES, RIGHT THERE, FUCK YESSSS, FUCK BABY," she screams, reacting as she tries to regain control of the bounce. But you don't let her, just smashing your balls against her clit and pumping her like a piston. "OH FUCKKKKK," she screams, getting out of breath as you hammer her pussy nonstop, reaching from behind to finger her clit and making her legs tremble.

"YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK, FUCK," Tzuyu moans. "FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME PLEASE, JUST LIKE THAT, THAT'S WHAT I WANT, PLEASE, GIVE ME MORE, FUCK," she keeps screaming, you using her pussy as hard as possible, turning her into a fucktoy. "I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM," she announces, closing her eyes and opening her mouth as her pussy gets obliterated until she squirts and grinds all over your cock. You grab her tits as she pulls out. "Oh, I wanna taste it," she says, deepthroating your cock and taking all her juices from it.

"Fuck my face with that shiny cock," Tzuyu commands as you pump up her pretty face and pound her throat hard, making her gag, but not more as she makes you groan. "Oh my God," you groan as Tzuyu handles your cock like a champion, sharing some sloppy kisses after you're done. "I love that cock so fucking much," she says, kissing you and giving it more strokes. "Keep fucking my face," she commands, you promptly obliging as her face proves to be just as tight and heavenly as her pussy.

Tzuyu licks your tip and spits on your cock as she easily wins the challenge. "I want you to fuck me like a real man," she says. You push her hot body in your direction and hammer her pussy as hard as possible. "Fuck, my wet pussy is gonna keep cumming on that cock again and again," Tzuyu says, still managing to bounce hard even with her tall body tilted forward.

You pour some lube in Tzuyu's ass. "Yeah, get it shiny and wet," she says, whispering a few dirty words in your ear for good measure. "I love feeling every inch of that cock in my pussy," she says as you tease her with slow thrusts before going all in and pounding her hard, enjoying her pretty face moaning in front of you. "OH FUCK, YES, RIGHT THERE," Tzuyu screams as she gets her cheeks clapped hard. You grab her ass and push her against your shaft. "Yes, make me bounce up and down on that cock until I cum again," she commands.

"YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, MAKE ME CUM ON THAT COCK," Tzuyu commands as you grab her waist and push her even further down. "FUCKKKKK," she screams, giving your cock a little attempt at twerking like she learned from Mina. You put a couple of fingers in her asshole and massage it before pounding her pussy hard. "DON'T FUCKING STOP, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, HARDER, HARDER, HARDER, OH FUCK," she screams, her body shaking as you take her breath away and make her reach another juicy orgasm.

You come to a stop to admire Tzuyu's pretty face, letting her slowly move on your cock while you massage her asshole. She pulls out and starts stroking your cock again, licking it from balls to tip and spitting on it. "So fucking good," you tell her. She picks up her bracelet and wraps it around your cock, using it like a cock ring and trapping all the blood that rushed to your head to keep your cock throbbing as hard as possible.

But soon, it doesn't take long for Tzuyu to be ready for more. "Bend me over," Tzuyu says as she gets herself on all fours in bed. You dive between her cheeks and tongue her asshole. "Oh yes, work that tongue in my ass," she tells you, reaching to finger her pussy as she shakes her butt in your face. "Oh yeah," she moans.

"Are you gonna give it to me, manager oppa?" "Yes, please, give it to me, I want more," Tzuyu begs as you grab her waist and insert your cock back in her pussy. "Oh, fuck yeah," she moans as you take it slow, looking at her pretty moaning face all the way down in the bed as you thrust deep inside her pussy. You grab her ass and look at her beautiful back, especially her tan line as she spreads her cheeks open.

"I'm such a good slut for Manager Oppa," Tzuyu says as she just lets you take every inch of your cock in her pussy. "Keep it open," you command, Tzuyu giving you a few winks with her asshole. "OH YES," she screams. You add some extra lube to your cock, her pussy looking tighter than ever. "You feel so good inside me, manager oppa," she says, moving her body in your direction. You quickly grab her butt and take back control, still going slow as her pussy squeezes your cock.

"Fuck me hard and deep, manager oppa," Tzuyu begs. You do as she asks, pushing your cock as hard as possible. "Please, give it to me hard, make me cum," she begs. "MORE, MORE, MORE, OH YES, RIGHT THERE," she starts screaming just as police sirens also scream down the street. But Tzuyu manages to be even louder than them.

"OH FUCK YES, PLEASE, I WANNA CUM ON THAT COCK AGAIN, OH MY GOD, FUCK," Tzuyu screams as you make her tits jiggle hard. "DON'T STOP, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE," she continues to beg, putting her face down and ass up like a perfect slut. You two feel a little tired, you slowing down while Tzuyu reaches to finger her very wet pussy. "Fuck this pussy, manager oppa, make it yours; I want more," she begs, moving her hips in your direction.

You pound Tzuyu hard. "OH MY GOD, YES, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, DON'T FUCKING STOP," she screams, coating her bedsheets with her juices. "FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME OH SHITTTT," she keeps screaming. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she continues to scream as you hit hard and deep all the way into her cervix. You put her in a spooning position. "Oh yes, give me all that fucking cock," she commands, you pumping her pussy so hard to the point it slides out of it. "Put it back, put it back," Tzuyu commands, you slowing down to admire her beauty and look at her sexy tan lines as your cock slides in and out of her pussy.

"Right fucking there, don't stop," Tzuyu commands as you keep pounding her. "Don't fucking slow down, take that pussy, please," she begs. You suck her tits as they jiggle like pinballs with your hard thrusts. "YES, YES, YES, FUCK, OHHHH FUCKKK, YES, YES, YES," she screams, rolling her eyes as you grab her trembling legs.

"I fucking love what your cock does to me, manager oppa," Tzuyu says, rubbing her pussy. "I want you to fill my tight pussy up with that cock, every fucking inch; that's what I like," she says. Her words motivate you even if you are almost getting close to falling asleep. "YES, JUST FUCKING USE MY PUSSY WITH YOUR COCK, FUCK, PLEASE DON'T STOP, MAKE ME CUM SO HARD, FUCKKKK," she screams, you taking Tzuyu's hot body and making it yours. "YES, YES, YES," she keeps screaming, moving her hips against your cock.

"Where should I cum?" you ask Tzuyu, giving her some hot kisses. "Deep in my pussy," Tzuyu says. You know there is only one way this could go: putting her in the perfect position to creampie the maknae as you spread her long legs and put her in a mating press position. "USE THAT PUSSY TO MAKE YOU CUM, USE THAT PUSSY TO MAKE YOU CUM, GIVE IT ALL TO ME, BREED MY FUCKING PUSSY, MANAGER OPPA," Tzuyu screams, driving you crazy.

Tzuyu puts her legs up and just lets you take over. You thrust hard and deep in her pussy. "OH MY GOD, PLEASE, FILL ME UP," she begs you, spreading her legs wide open as you look into her pretty face. You pound her pussy balls deep, getting closer and closer at each second. "Cum inside me, manager oppa, please, cum inside me," she begs you.

You drain your balls in Tzuyu's pussy, your cum dripping into her honey thighs as you pull out of her tight pussy. Tzuyu spreads her pussy for you to show you the massive load you gave her. You two are so exhausted that both of you fall asleep shortly after sharing some kisses.

You wake up the next morning, Tzuyu still asleep after a hard night of performing and fucking. You look at her beautiful naked body and stroke your cock to it, eventually unable to control yourself and waking her up with a big load right in her pretty face.

"Wow, manager oppa, you're so sweet, already waking me up with milk for breakfast," she says, tasting your cum.

"Crap, we are late to work," you tell Tzuyu.

"What work?" Tzuyu asks. "I need to bring you back to practice at JYP," you tell her.

"No, it's my day off; the only work you'll be doing will be right here," she tells you.

Tzuyu reaches into a drawer to the side of her bed and grabs a butt plug. She tosses the blanket down, gets herself on all fours, and shoves it up her asshole.

"Are you ready to fuck me in the ass today, manager oppa?"

2K notes · View notes

waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

Hot Couture

~15k words, smut with basically no plot

The door to the hotel room shot open and in walked one of the most beautiful Japanese girls you have ever laid your eyes on. She walked briskly across the room to where you were sitting, her eyes locked on yours, hips swaying like a model with each step.

“Welcome back beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Momo sighed, tossing her bag to the side and wasting no time in straddling your lap, “miss me?”

“All day,” you replied. Your hands quickly found their way to Momo’s body, like two opposing magnets, like a moth to a flame, it just felt as easy as breathing. “I was looking at some videos, you looked great.”

“You should have just come,” Momo voiced, tinged with that adorable little whine, accompanied quietly with a slight pout on her lips and a focused expression as her fingers worked on unbuttoning your shirt – she could make you melt in her hands. “You could have seen me in person instead of through a screen.”

“I told you I already had plans,” you sighed as you lifted your back off the chair and helped her out. “And I couldn’t bail just like that.”

“Why not?” Momo grunted, smiling proudly once she eventually managed to yank your shirt off. “It’s just dinner, surely I’m worth more than that, no?”

“It wasn’t just dinner. And how exactly do you imagine that conversation would go?” you chuckled, kneading your fingers into her ass through her shorts. “How do I even explain this? ‘Oh, last night I hooked up with a girl, she’s actually famous and she invited me to attend her concert tonight, I have to cancel, sorry, fuck your meeting!’”

“Sounds reasonable enough to me,” Momo purred, sliding a finger down your chest. She leaned in and kissed your neck softly a couple of times, her warm breath brushing smoothly against your skin. “That’s exactly what happened anyway.”

“They’d never believe it. I still don’t entirely know if I believe this yet,” you murmured as your hands mustered up the audacity to slide down the back of Momo’s shorts and into her panties.

“Oh you better believe it,” Momo’s breath grazed your skin softly as she filled the room with the sound of her wet kisses on your skin. “The night’s only just starting, and I have all of tomorrow to recover this time.”

“Your friends?”

“They stopped for food, we have enough time,” Momo replied casually, before sucking hard against your neck. “I can already feel how… ready… you are, it would be a shame to waste more time, don’t you think?”

“I’ve been ready ever since last night,” you moaned softly as Momo’s fingers made their way to your lap. “Seriously, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“And why would you?” Momo whispered, finally leaving your neck with a temporary tattoo of her lips before leaning back, slipping off her top and bra in a singular, swift movement.

There they were – so fucking captivating, alluring, absolutely entrancing, staring right back at you. You could never take your eyes off her tits, something you realized very soon after you met Momo. They were so delightful. Heavy and perky, accentuated further by Momo’s thin waist and framed pleasantly by her adorably-mischievous smile that you paid absolutely no attention to – no, you were too fixated on just one, rather two, things about her right now.

“Where the fuck have you been my whole life,” you moaned as blood rushed to your cock.

“What matters is that I’m here now,” Momo smirked, pinching her nipples gently and tilting her head back, softening her features.

“Then let’s stop wasting time,” you replied, giving her ass a hard spank. “Lead the way sweetheart.”

“Come on then,” Momo matched your energy as she hopped off your lap and dropped to her knees next to you. She propped herself up with her elbows on the couch next to you and turned to face you - ass up, back arched. “Don’t leave a girl waiting.”

“Never,” you moaned, nearly drooling at the sight of Momo lowering her shorts down to her knees and arching her back for you. “Especially not if that girl is you.”

In just a fraction of a second, you removed the rest of your clothes and found yourself on your knees behind Momo with nothing but a tiny pair of purple panties covering her fit body. You gave yourself a couple of quick strokes, taking a moment to make the most of the view, before bringing your hand down hard onto Momo’s ass, squeezing deep before yanking down her panties.

“Fuck,” you moaned at the view. Your heart rate skyrocketed as Momo’s pussy glistened before you – she was calling to you. Pressure was building up between your legs as your cock began leaking just at the thought of taking her. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me, now.” she purred, looking back at you over her shoulder. “Give it to me hard, make me scream again.”

“You’ll me screaming alright,” you mumbled as you fumbled with your tip around her pussy, “but not yet.”

Before slipping it in, to Momo’s audible frustration, you pulled your tip away. Instead, because you honestly couldn’t control yourself, you gently spread her cheeks and leaned forward, pressing your tongue firmly against her pussy. She’d have to wait just a bit, because you needed a taste.

Momo was upset, you knew it. You may have only met her a day ago, but if there was one thing you knew about her it was that she loved getting dicked and hated waiting. Really, more than anything, nothing made her feel better – except maybe a fresh load in her mouth, that was a close second. Nonetheless, Momo played along, letting you enjoy that body she worked so hard to build.

“You like eating my pussy, don’t you?” Momo moaned softly, grinding her hips in small circles as you ate her out. “Oh baby, I can feel your tongue inside me.”

In an act of pure desperation and lust, you shoved your face as far forward as it could go, closing your eyes as Momo’s ass cheeks pressed into your face. You sucked, licked, and lapped up as much of her as physically possible, like a starving animal finally getting fed. Once you felt your lungs begging for air, after getting her nice and wet, you pulled back and took a deep gasp.

It wasn’t easy, you felt like you were physically and mentally fighting your own body as you tried to pull back. It just made no sense, you had two equal parts begging you to keep your mouth glued between her cheeks while the other half wanted nothing more than to shove your cock into Momo’s soft pussy.

She was drenched at this point, beads sliding down her inner thighs. You rubbed her pussy, slipping a finger in for just a moment to feel how wet she was inside, coating your palm in her wetness as she flowed down your hand. You used her slick to coat your shaft before sliding forward and pressing your tip against her pussy.

“Come on, fuck me,” Momo whined, dropping her face into the seat cushion and spreading her cheeks for you. Her patience was wearing thin by now. She spat on her palm and reached back between her legs, grabbing your shaft and stroking it slowly. That clawing motion she made against your tip was unreal, she had full control of you right now.

The teasing didn’t last long, only a few more seconds of toying with her was all you managed before you just had to slip it in, really, it was like you had no other option, no more power. She felt good, amazing even. Momo’s pussy beautifully hugged your cock, squeezing it tight, clamping down hard. You eased yourself all the way in, nearly tearing your lower lip open as you bit into it subconsciously. Fuck, this felt nice.

“Oh you’re so big,” Momo cooed, letting go of her ass and gripping the cushions until her knuckles turned white. “You make me feel so full.”

“Momo you feel so good,” you grunted, giving her ass another rough slap as you took grip of her body.

The view was perfect, you were completely enthralled by your cock disappearing inside Momo’s pussy. The way her cute ass would bounce, the way her pussy gripped your cock, almost as if it was begging for you to stay inside her body, it was divine.

With just a few rhythmic pumps into Momo’s pussy you quickly realized how impossible it was to hold back. Adjusting yourself forward, sense of control rapidly disappearing, you began thrusting harder. Each one sending shockwaves through her body. Soon, you found yourself intoxicated with the view yet again – your cock plunging into Momo from behind, her perfectly sculpted body accepting it.

“I want more,” she gasped, “I need more.”

The next couple of minutes went by in a blur. It felt amazing. For all you know, it wasn’t even minutes, it could have been seconds or hours, it was just pure euphoria. What you realized though was that no matter how hard you pumped, Momo could take it. Your brain was falling in love with this girl, the harder you went the more she got into it, this was all you wanted – she was all you wanted. Your entire purpose in this world became fucking Momo with every ounce of strength in your body.

So you did just that, and she still took it. With sweat dripping down your body, lactic acid burning your muscles from within, you pushed and pushed well past the physical limitations of your body. In this moment, you could do anything, and that anything was Momo. She was everything. She was yours – yours to fuck.

“That’s right!” Momo cried out. “Fuck me baby, til I can’t walk! Fuck, please!”

A miracle was the only thing stopping you from unloading inside her right now. The delight of riding your orgasm to the absolute edge was shooting pleasure up your spine at a rate you simply, physically could not handle. You could feel your body beginning to go numb as all sensation became hyper-focused in one spot. You had no idea how long you had been plowing Momo anymore – nothing really made sense anymore truthfully. The harder you tried to understand the world around you, the less anything mattered.

If this wasn’t enough for Momo, you’d have to make it up to her later, because that was it. You had hit your breaking point – your body was done. In a sudden rush, a heavy wave of pure ecstasy filled your body as you launched your first gush of white as deep into Momo’s pussy as possible. Each following pump felt better and better until slowly, eventually, you felt yourself regaining your senses.

And as your brain began making sense of the fog, the unbelievably addicting feeling of euphoria soaring through your cock was becoming overwhelming. Momo’s warm body, the perfect blanket for your shaft, slowly massaged as you eased yourself back and forth a few final times before falling forward into Momo’s body, embedding your cock deep inside her pussy.

As you felt your cock eventually empty itself, you became acutely aware of how deep into Momo’s cheeks your fingers were pressing. You let go of her, giving her ass another hard slap, earning you a muffled, low energy shriek from Momo as she pressed her face into the cushions. She looked as spent as you right now with her entire body heaving up and down and a slight tremble in her legs.

Gingerly, you stood up, leaving your cum leaking out of Momo’s body, and took a seat on the couch next to her. She turned to look up at you, face flushed with pressure, a small bit of a sweat forcing her cute bangs to stick to her forehead. You brushed her hair out of her face as she smiled at you.

“I can feel your cum dripping out of me,” Momo giggled, scooting over a bit closer to you. “So warm.”

“Sorry, couldn’t hold back.”

“That’s a dumb apology,” she lifted herself up slightly and moved over your lap.

“Momo!” you cried out, body jolting as she took your cock into her mouth. “Please, it’s too…”

“Sensitive?” Momo smiled as she let your cock slip from her mouth. “I love watching you squirm,” she added before sliding her tongue along your shaft.

Initially, you found yourself pulling back again, wincing as sensation shot up your spine, but she was gentle - it began feeling good, really good, like a massage for your cock.

“Round two? How long do you need?” Momo asked excitedly, her tongue finding your tip and prodding it with utmost care. “I think we still have time.”

“You sure? I really don’t want your friend to walk in on this,” you asked, gently stroking Momo’s hair as she played with your cock. “What was her name? Sana? She didn’t seem too fond of me last night.”

“Oh look at you, learning our names,” Momo chuckled, giving your balls a final kiss before getting up and sitting next to you. “Don’t worry about her, she was just jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of you,” Momo answered, reaching between her legs and spreading the mess you left around her pussy. “It’s not very often one of us finds someone fuckable who isn’t a starry-eyed fan.”

“Fuckable… I’ll take it.”

“Shut up,” Momo rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, fans can be fun too, but there’s something nice about a person who isn’t really aware of who we are.”

“I must admit,” you glanced down at her chest. “I feel like I’ve been missing out.”

“That’s fine,” Momo smirked, grabbing your hand and placing it on her tits, “plenty of time to catch up.”

“Hey, I’ve actually already been working on it,” you chuckled. “Momo, Sana, Mina, you’re all Japanese, you sing and dance.”

“Wow great job, you really did a deep search. A for effort!” Momo chuckled. “I know you didn’t do much more than Google our names if you’re scared of Sana.”

“Huh?”

“That girl is sunshine and rainbows,” Momo laughed before suddenly the door clicked and her smile disappeared. “Oh shit–”

Almost as if on cue, the door swung open, and sure enough in the doorway stood the girl of the conversation.

“Oh my God,” Sana stormed into the room, slamming the door behind her as she threw her bag onto the dresser. “I see why you weren’t checking your phone.”

“You’re back early,” Momo commented casually, crossing her legs and arms in an attempt to maintain some dignity.

“Yeah, and you’d know that if you weren’t too busy getting fucked,” Sana snapped. “One request. All I asked is that you don’t use your stupid toy in front of me.”

“It’s not my fault you changed your plans,” Momo shook her head, a smile creeping up on her face. “Sana, don’t be so upset, if you want you can use him too.”

“Um excuse me–” you began.

“Shut up,” both of the girls snapped in unison.

Sana suddenly began eyeing you up and down – never in your life have you felt so judged. The most embarrassing part was how quickly your cock came alive as Sana stared at you, and your hands definitely weren’t doing a great job of concealing yourself. It was almost comical how quickly the tone in the room shifted. Sana went from ready to murder to something much more akin to curiosity. Instead of glaring at you, she seemed to be admiring, and for some reason you were becoming incredibly shy in front of her.

“Hmm,” Sana hummed softly, taking off her jacket and tossing it aside, leaving her in nothing but a crop top and skirt. “Who said that’s what I want?”

“I think he likes you,” Momo teased, grabbing your wrists and uncovering your cock. “He’s probably bored of fucking me by now.”

“N-No, I… I’m…”

“Look at that, he can’t even speak anymore,” Momo giggled as she took hold of your shaft, teasingly stroking it. “Come on Sana, I know you want this, it could be yours.” Momo bent down over your lap, facing Sana, and slid her tongue up your shaft. You found yourself shutting your eyes tight as Momo began swirling her tongue around your tip. This girl already knew how to make you click, and it only took one night. “I know he wants you, too, I can taste it.”

Sana, still wearing that sharp – almost aggressive – expression, stepped forward until she was right in front of you. She held eye contact, not even glancing at your cock as Momo, who sat back up, stroked it. No, she was fully focused on staring into your eyes, which felt as if she was staring directly into your soul. Even as she straddled you, just like Momo did earlier, pressing her body against your cock, she still kept her eyes glued to yours – and damn her eyes were stunning.

“Is it true?” Sana whispered, placing her hands on your shoulders. “Do you want me?”

Instead of embarrassing yourself with the inability to form words, you chose to nod – perhaps a bit too enthusiastically – Sana definitely noticed.

The tiniest of smiles teased her lips before she spoke again. “And what makes you think I want you?” she asked, her voice almost too innocent for the situation.

“Well, you’re sitting on my cock right now,” you spoke clearly as you finally found your voice.

“And yet,” she let go of your shoulders and leaned away, “you haven’t even put your hands on me.”

“I…” you hated your brain right now as you lost your voice just as quickly as you found it. Usually you’d be quick with it, but Sana had you turned to mush, it felt like you were lost in a field of haze. “Because I…”

“Why are you so nervous?” Sana whispered, moving her face closer to yours. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Do you not like me?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“So you like me?”

“I just met you.”

She smirked, bringing her hands back to your shoulders.

“What do you like most?” Sana whispered the question, annoyingly confident, as she began slowly moving her hips back and forth, as slowly as physically possible. “Don’t be shy, tell me.”

The way she pressed her body a bit harder against your cock, or perhaps because of how she stuck her chest up towards your face just a bit more, you knew she wanted you to touch her. That being said, your answer must have caught her off guard – at least a bit.

“You have a sweet smile.”

She kept a straight face, still staring deep into your pupils.

“I’m not smiling.”

“Behind this act you’re trying to put on,” you continued. “I can see why you’re so popular now, pictures don’t do your beauty justice.”

Thankfully, she was at least slightly flustered by your choice of words, you were sure of it. The way she blinked faster and the way her cheeks betrayed her facade by staining a light pink, she couldn’t hide how she felt. She even stopped grinding against you, the only part of her that remained composed was her gaze. That ethereal confidence she was sporting just seconds ago was fluttering away as she became shy herself, and your own confidence began returning.

“That’s very kind of you…” Sana muttered, her sharp gaze slowly fading, “...but you–”

“I can see it in your eyes,” you cut her off. “Modern-day Aphrodite, I get it now, I get why you can make stadiums scream, I get why there are hours and hours of you all over YouTube, every angle possible, every moment captured. Fans wouldn’t dare to miss even a breath.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s not that I want to fuck you, really, not that simple,” you cut her off. “I want to make love to you, all night. I want to hear that beautiful voice scream and moan, I want you gasping for more, I want you begging for more, and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

“You–”

“And I won’t stop until you can’t take it anymore. I don’t care if you can or can’t walk tomorrow, I don’t care if you spend the whole day in bed,” you continued. “I want to make this the best night of your life, one you’ll think about forever, one you’ll crave for the rest of your life, a feeling you’ll be chasing. I’ll do it all, whatever you need for however long you want.”

Did she know she was biting her lip?

“A girl like you deserves–”

“What the fuck,” it was Momo’s turn to interject, “at this point even I want to fuck her.”

Ignoring the smile that crept up on your lips, you continued staring Sana in the eyes. “Maybe you don’t want me, that’s your choice to make,” you whispered softly, now that the dynamic had shifted into your favor, “but you’re still sitting on my lap.”

Sana opened her mouth for a moment and paused, as if she couldn’t find the words, before she gently closed her mouth again, cheeks bright red. At this point, words didn’t really need to be shared – you both knew what the other wanted.

“What do you say?” you whispered, placing your hands up the sides of her thighs. “Are you going to let me make your night?”

Each inch of Sana’s body felt amazing as you began to slowly slide up her leg. You pressed with modest trepidation, very intentionally keeping your hands moving as slowly as you could up her side. She felt so tender, perfect in your hands, the ideal body. Your hands made their way leisurely towards her hips where they found refuge, the thought of holding Sana’s body down against your cock while the thought of fucking her began engulfing your mind, and at this point it was the only thing on your mind.

“Then what are you–” the words hadn’t even escaped her lips before she was picked up and turned around, her back dropped onto the couch where you were sitting just a second ago. “Waiting for…” she gasped out the rest of her thought, eyes wide in pure lust and desire for you.

“Ooooooooh,” Momo cheered, giggling as she watched the show, sliding up next to Sana on the couch and helping her friend take off her top. “Finally.”

And for the first time, Sana’s eyes moved to your cock properly. You began smiling as you saw her lick her lips, probably without even realizing it. She was completely engrossed in the sight of your cock, you could probably make her beg right now if you really wanted to – yet, you had no desire to do such a thing. You let her enjoy the view as much as you were enjoying the view of Momo unclasping her bra, freeing Sana’s tits.

Maybe it was because you wanted her just as badly as she wanted you. She was, after all, truly one of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen in your life. It was an odd type of lust, the fibers in your brain were being torn apart; on one hand you wanted to fuck her softly for the rest of the night, and on the other hand you wanted nothing more than to fill her up in under a minute.

The only thing that was certain was that you wanted – no, needed – to fuck this girl right now. Laying there, cheeks rosy pink, Sana looked up at you again. The sheer desire in her eyes, the vulnerability of her slightly parted lips, each breath deep, legs bent at the knees waiting for your next move. You reached forward and flipped her skirt up, the fabric bundling up around her slim waist.

She was wearing light pink panties, stained completely dark in the crotch at this point. The scene before you had your cock twitching – relief was coming soon, you told yourself. First, on pure instinctual lust, you dropped to your knees and pressed your face forward, just like you did with Momo.

Her taste, her scent, her everything was unbelievably intoxicating. Just the thought of having your face between the legs of this goddess, the type of girls men would go to war for, was enough to make you blow. You couldn’t take it any longer, with one swift pull you exposed Sana’s pussy.

A faint gasp escaped her lips before immediately transforming into a soft moan as you pressed your lips against her pussy, no fabric in the way this time. You pushed your tongue into her entrance as deep as it could go, succumbing to her taste, engulfing as much of her pussy as you physically could in your mouth.

She began moaning hard, the sign that you couldn’t stop. In fact, it was probably a crime to stop right now with the way she was gasping with each flick of your tongue. She was so turned on that anything you did was sending her to the moon, the smallest little bits of pressure against her soft pussy was all it took. You’ve never had it so easy before and you were addicted.

And fuck she tasted good. The thought of fucking her was temporarily erased by the mind-numbing experience of pressing your tongue against her clit. You were pretty sure it felt better for you than it did for her at this point, somehow, not that it made any sense. Yet, you were so invested into eating out Sana’s pussy that you barely noticed each time her leg would jerk and hit the side of your face, and soon even the sounds of her moans were fading away.

Your world was just Sana’s pussy. Not even your throbbing cock was enough to distract you from it, and at this point you had honestly forgotten about the other naked Japanese girl in the room. Right now was Sana’s turn, her pussy was all you had to worry about. Her pussy was all that you would worry about.

After showing her clit some love, just for a moment, you pressed your mouth against her entrance again, teasing around it with your tongue as your lips gently massaged her pussy. You would go back and kiss her clit from time to time, but your focus was on pressing your tongue flat against her skin and pushing down from side to side. At this point you weren’t entirely sure if it was your own saliva or Sana’s pussy that was filling your mouth, but it was becoming impossible to swallow it all.

Sana had to be the wettest woman on the planet right now, surely. Her pussy became a fountain at this point, filling up your mouth as you desperately tried to lap it all up, leaking all over your chin. As if there was any doubt anymore, the ultimate confirmation came alongside a shrill shriek as Sana’s pussy squirted deep into your mouth.

As she squirted in your face, you began moving your head side to side, urging her to let the pleasure flow through her body. You had it down to a science at this point, quickly adjusting as you noticed what worked for her – it helped that she was so vocal. You worked her pussy until your upper body was soaked, and then you pressed your lips down to her body again, revelling in her taste some more.

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of Sana’s mess, you backed up, gasping for air. Sana, face completely flushed, stared at you with her chest heaving up and down. You lunged forward, palming one of her tits while shoving your mouth against her lips. With your other hand, you fumbled around with your cock between her legs, trying to find her entrance. It was so incredibly wet, you weren’t sure if it was possible.

Once you finally felt your tip against her, you brought both of your hands up to her face, holding her warmly with the kiss and pushing your hips forward. She gasped into your mouth hard before launching her head back. You leaned back as well, watching with jubilant appetency as inch by inch your cock disappeared into Sana’s pussy.

She was the perfect fit, warm and wet, squeezing your shaft gloriously. You were completely mesmerized by Sana’s body. With pure pleasure, you watched your cock enter her pussy over and over and over, her soft tits bouncing up and down in small circles with each slow, methodical thrust. You started slow, giving her all the time she needed to adjust to your cock, easing it in all the way before pulling back. It felt amazing. Part of you felt like cumming already, but you couldn’t just yet, not after just three pumps – imagine her disappointment.

Your hands made their way to her hips, holding her down, slightly pulling her back onto your cock each time you pumped into her pussy, speeding up drastically now. You squeezed down, and the added roughness was working as you felt her pussy tighten around your cock. She spread her legs wider, shutting her eyes tight with her mouth open.

Momo, clearly interested in getting involved, leaned over and began kissing Sana. Seeing their tits squishing against each other nearly launched you over the edge, but you slowed down just enough to hold yourself back. In fact, you found yourself stopping entirely, knowing just one more thrust would have you cumming buckets inside Sana’s pussy, and you simply watched as the two girls made out.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a wave of jealousy hit you. Sana almost looked like she was more into the kiss with Momo than she was with you – and that absolutely couldn’t be the case, you wouldn’t let it. You grabbed her legs and yanked her off the couch into your arms, ignoring her squeal as you turned her around and bent her over the couch.

“What the fuck,” Sana gasped before taking a drawn-out inhale as you pushed your cock into her again, pressing your hand against her lower back.

That long, satisfied breath she took was to die for, her soft and sultry voice was making your cock throb. That alone nearly sent you over the edge yet again as you used all of your power to hold back.

Momo got off the couch with a smirk and walked around your body, picking up on what just happened immediately. She wrapped her arms tenderly around you, leaning right up against your ear as you began pumping Sana from behind.

“Don’t be upset babe,” she whispered, her breath giving you the energy to fuck Sana even faster. “She’s still yours to fuck, all yours, no one else can take her from you and your big cock.”

Momo’s whispers almost sent you into a frenzy, and again you had to slow down to enjoy the moment some more.

“And when I say she’s all yours, I really mean all,” Momo whispered, giving your earlobe a small nibble before letting go of you and sitting on the couch next to Sana.

Momo leaned over, spreading Sana’s cheeks wide for you while staring up at you, both of you making eye contact as Sana cried out in pleasure. Then, slowly, Momo bent over, still staring right at you, and gently rubbed her tongue against Sana’s asshole, toying with it.

“Momo!” Sana gasped as her pussy gushed out onto your cock again.

“What do you say?” Momo teased, slowly rubbing a finger against Sana’s asshole as you plowed her pussy. “I think she wants it.”

“Fuck…” you moaned, incapable of forming a sentence, before slowly pulling your cock out.

“That’s right,” Momo smiled. “You should take what you want.”

This was actually happening – you were about to fuck Sana in the ass. Before that, however, you took Momo’s advice and grabbed the back of her head, guiding her to your shaft. You pushed yourself down Momo’s throat as far as you could go. The desire to shove your cock down Momo’s mouth just came out of nowhere, and you didn’t bother thinking before acting.

“Not exactly what I meant,” Momo gasped, coughing slightly as you let go of her face before smiling up at you.

“Not my fault, you just look so damn good with my cock in your mouth,” you teased, giving her a small pat on the cheek.

“Come on,” Sana moaned quietly as she rubbed her pussy, shaking her ass towards you. She was still dripping all over her inner thighs.

“Sana,” you mumbled, rubbing your tip against her asshole. “Can I?”

“Just do it, stop asking,” Sana moaned in response, looking back over her shoulder at you and winking.

This girl would be the death of you – how the fuck did you end up here? Momo, just as excited for what was about to happen as you, leaned over Sana’s body and let her saliva spill from her lips before using her fingers to coat Sana’s asshole.

“She’s playing it up,” Momo giggled, teasing a finger into Sana’s asshole. “You should see what I’ve put in here.”

“Momo!” Sana groaned, hitting her on the arm.

“Don’t be shy now,” Momo replied with a mischievous little smirk. “After the mess you’ve already made everywhere, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about anymore.”

“Give her a break,” you chuckled as you lined yourself up with Sana’s asshole.

“Not like you’re going to,” Momo replied as she positioned herself on the couch in front of Sana and spread her legs.

With Sana preoccupied with Momo’s pussy, you took the opportunity to push your cock in. It definitely wasn’t her first time. Still, you went slowly as her asshole was incredibly tight nonetheless, but damn did it feel good. It was a whole different sensation, tight and warm, not as wet, but so tight.

“Fuck,” you moaned softly, adjusting your posture to give better leverage. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Not too hard,” Sana’s muffled voice cried out softly.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” you grunted, pushing your cock halfway into her body.

Her toned back was fully flexed before you, sweat filled each sexy little ridge her muscles made. You eased yourself into a gentle rhythm before fixing your gaze on Momo. The girl had her eyes closed, hand on the back of Sana’s head, and the other hand cupping a breast. The view before you was actually to die for.

For Sana’s sake, you only pushed your cock halfway into her ass with each thrust as you could see her straining. It still felt great, you had nothing to complain about, and you were starting to feel yourself getting closer.

Alternating between slow and fast was how you kept yourself going long enough to see Momo cum against Sana’s face. You paused for a moment, letting Sana focus fully on Momo’s pussy. It was a glorious view, Momo’s tits up towards the roof as she arched her back while Sana fully committed to eating her pussy.

Then, as Momo relaxed, you went back to the task at hand and started slamming into Sana’s ass again. This time, she was tighter, and you could tell she was struggling a lot more. You only got a few more thrusts in before Sana gasped out and reached a hand back against your thigh.

“Alright enough!” Sana screamed out, pushing you away, moaning as you pulled your cock out of her ass. “Please, I need a break.”

“First time I’ve ever seen you tap out,” Momo teased as she got off the couch and grabbed Sana’s hand. “Was that too much?”

“No,” Sana whined as she rubbed her asshole. “I just haven’t done that in a while.”

“Come here, let me make it all better,” Momo giggled, guiding Sana to the bed where she lay her down with her head towards the base. Momo climbed onto the bed between Sana’s legs before motioning for you to come over. “We haven’t done this in a while either.”

“That’s because you never share your toys,” Sana pouted as she craned her neck upwards towards you and opened her mouth.

“Don’t stand there like an idiot, you know what she wants,” Momo laughed before disappearing between Sana’s legs.

In this position, with Sana’s adorable eyes looking up at you, just slightly squinted as Momo worked her pussy, you felt a rush of warmth shoot up your body. The moment you stepped up to the bed, Sana had already started licking your cock, pressing her tongue against the base of your shaft where it met your balls.

“Fuck that’s nice,” you moaned, stroking yourself.

“Come on,” Sana looked up at you and let out the most adorable little giggle you’ve ever heard. “Shove it down my neck.”

Who were you to deny that request? While trying to hide how excited you were, you slowly pressed down on your cock and slipped it between Sana’s lips, entering her warm mouth. Just like when you tried her asshole, her mouth was also an entirely new experience. It was nice and wet, and her tongue was working magic against your cock.

Then there was the sound. The gentle gagging, a mix of slurping and moaning, it all made for the most mind-numbing experience ever. You barely moved your hips, you just let Sana do the work, and she knew how to use her mouth. She strained her neck as far back as she could to get your cock as deep as possible.

For the next couple of minutes, the three of you were in your own little worlds. Momo, happy as ever, was enjoying Sana’s pussy to her heart’s content, while you got to enjoy Sana’s mouth, and Sana herself was having the best time of all as her whole body was vibrating and trembling in pleasure.

Then, over all the noise Sana was making against your cock, there was a knock on the door. Your heart skipped a beat as you paused for a moment, worried you were about to get caught. It didn’t last long, though, as Momo took care of your concern.

“I got it,” Momo lifted her head up from between Sana’s legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand and quickly wrapping a towel around her body. “It’s probably Mina, she doesn’t have a key.”

“Should I stop?” you asked as you gave Sana another chance to breathe, stroking your cock gently above her face.

“Does it look like she wants you to stop?” Momo giggled before giving you a slap on the ass and walking over to the door.

In front of you, Sana was extending her neck to reach up and lick your balls, with her fingers replacing Momo’s face between her legs.

“Just a bit more,” Sana moaned, rubbing her pussy frantically. “I’m really close, please, fill my throat just a bit longer.”

What a fucking request. With that, you pushed your cock downwards slightly and slipped it back into Sana’s mouth, grazing your balls against her face as you pushed all the way into her throat. Sure enough, through all the cock you had in her mouth, she screamed out loudly into the hotel room. She clamped her legs down on her hand and started shaking and trembling all around the bed with your cock still down her throat.

While watching her finger herself desperately, you bent forward and cupped her tits in your hands, playing with the soft skin between your hands while shoving your cock deeper down her neck. You could see the outline of your shaft pressing against her skin, threatening to go all the way down, to hit the back of her throat. Once she was done, you pulled out of her mouth slowly, leaving a mess of Sana’s saliva all over your cock.

“Thank you,” Sana gasped, staring up at you for a moment trying to catch her breath before sitting up. “Your turn.”

“That’s–”

Sana hushed you before laying down flat on her stomach and looking over her shoulder at you. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up,” she said casually while shaking her ass at you. “I’m all yours.”

“You’re fucking insatiable,” you mumbled as you climbed on the bed at pressed your cock between her ass cheeks, sliding it up and down slowly.

“Fuck me, as much as you can,” Sana giggled, spreading her cheeks with both hands to give you more room between them.

With her holes staring beautifully right into your eyes, you grabbed your cock and slipped it into her soft pussy once more, thrusting into her slowly.

“Oh fuck that’s right, that’s good – oh yes that’s perfect,” Sana purred softly. “Grab my neck.”

For the first time, you hesitated at Sana’s request. She noticed the pause, glaring back at you over her shoulder as you fucked her steadily, her ass jiggling with each thrust. She didn’t have to say anything, the look was all you needed for you to wrap your fingers around her neck.

As soon as you squeezed, you felt her pussy tighten. It was fucking magical. You’ve never felt better, pure ecstasy, a high like no other. Her pussy was just perfect, and you found yourself pressing your body down against hers, pushing your cock in deeper than ever with each thrust. Then, you leaned closer to her ear.

“You just love it when you can’t breathe, don’t you?” you whispered into Sana’s ears as you pressed your fingers harder against her neck. “The harder I squeeze, the tighter you get.”

“Then hurry up and fucking use me,” Sana rasped, completely out of breath still. “However you want, for as long as you want, make my world go numb.”

“You mean–”

“Anything, fill my little asshole up if you want, I don’t care,” she moaned before dropping her face into a pillow. “But this time if you’re fucking to fuck my ass, go all the way in.”

“I love you,” you moaned spontaneously as you pulled your cock out and lined it up with her asshole.

“Yeah sure, now tell me that when you’re not about to fuck my asshole and maybe I’ll believe you,” Sana giggled. “Also this time, don’t stop. No matter how much I scream, fuck me until you cum.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want you to fuck my ass until you fill me up,” she repeated firmly before turning away from you and bracing her body. “Now stop asking questions and hurry up – go until you finish.”

“Really Sana, I might just love you,” you mumbled, and before she could reply you pushed your cock deep into her ass.

“Oh fuck!” Sana cried out as she pressed her face down into the bed, tensing up her body.

Unlike last time, you were thrusting your entire cock into her ass, and you had to admit it felt a lot better. Still as tight as ever, but more accepting, Sana’s ass was divine, a warm envelope that soothed and massaged every cell in your body. You didn’t bother easing in slowly at all, from the first thrust into Sana’s ass you were already making sure she was taking your entire length.

With your hips moving at full speed, you wrapped your fingers around Sana’s neck again, and for the last few moments of ecstasy, you went as hard as you could, giving it your all. That pure bliss, melting away all your worries, it was a feeling you could never get sick of, a feeling you’d dream about for years to come, and that feeling was how amazing Sana’s ass felt on your cock.

As quickly as it started, you felt the end approach. One thing was certain, you were going to follow Sana’s wish, and with a final – deep and hard – thrust, you felt your cock start unloading into Sana’s ass. Some jumble of words, or maybe just sounds, escaped your lips as your entire body went numb, the only sensation reaching your brain was the euphoria shooting through your cock as you held it steady, deep inside Sana’s asshole.

Sana, the angel she was, lay there and took it all, never once complaining, gently moving her hips up against your body, back and forth just slowly enough to massage your cum out. She waited patiently until you finished, until you pulled out and gave her the reprieve she so desperately needed. Even then, with her ass full of your cum, she didn’t care about how harsh that was, instead she simply lay there as relaxed as ever.

With all that was happening, you didn’t even notice that Mina, the third member, was sitting on the other bed watching everything intently. Momo, who sat next to her, slowly got up from the bed and lay down on top of Sana. Momo immediately shoved her face between Sana’s cheeks, her cum-addiction coming through in full force as she began sucking it right out of Sana’s asshole.

While they had their moment, you took the opportunity to get up and walk over to Mina. You walked up to her with all the bravado from the high Sana just gave you, but you immediately felt a bit awkward being completely naked, stared at by Mina. She looked so elegant and graceful even while sitting there, and she had you all embarrassed, so, you quickly grabbed Momo’s discarded towel and wrapped it around your waist before sitting down next to Mina.

“Hey,” you smiled at her warmly.

“H-Hey,” she stammered back, her eyes dropping down to your body for a moment before her cheeks blushed red. She turned away from you and took another sip from the wine bottle she had on the side table.

“Straight from the bottle, classy.”

“Y-Yeah,” she replied, nearly dropping the half-emptied bottle as she went to put it back. “Sometimes, a glass is just too much work.”

“I get that–”

“Oh!” she quickly reached for the bottle again. “I’m sorry, I forgot to offer.”

“Thank you,” you smiled once more, grabbing the bottle with one hand and her wrist with the under. It was adorable how much she was shaking, and it was extremely obvious she was nervous. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, after everything you just experienced, you were feeling bolder than ever. You moved a bit closer to Mina, the towel you had wrapped around your waist slipping off as you reached over her to put the bottle of wine back. “Oops,” you chuckled as Mina’s face burned red. “I guess there’s no reason to hide, you did just watch me and Sana.”

“Umm, yeah,” Mina stammered, her eyes repeatedly darting towards your crotch before she would try to look away.

“Tell me,” you leaned in closer to her and placed a hand around her body, resting it against her hip, “are you just as wild as your friends?”

Mina looked down at your hand, almost as if she was scared, before looking back up at you.

“N-No, definitely not,” she answered nervously. “I just like to watch.”

After letting go of her hip, you stood up from the bed and faced towards her. You tossed the towel to the side, leaving you standing there completely nude in front of her. Mina, no longer hiding it, stared right at your cock as you stroked yourself to life.

“You just like to watch?” you repeated. “I won’t lie, Mina, you are fucking gorgeous and I’d love nothing more than to have a good time with you.”

“Th-Thanks,” Mina stuttered, trying to avoid eye contact again.

“Hey,” you dropped down to your knees in front of her. “No pressure of course, but I can tell you have that side of you that wants to let loose. You’d be surprised about what could happen – it’s up to you.”

“How?” Mina looked back into your eyes. “I don’t even know what to do, I’m not as experienced as them…”

“That’s nothing to worry about,” you stood back up and stepped closer to her. Gently, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your cock. “Just get comfortable, let things flow naturally.”

Mina hesitated for a moment before nodding and gripping your cock. She stroked slowly, it was obvious she was still nervous, but you were patient with her.

“You’re doing great,” you moaned softly as Mina began stroking a bit faster. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

“Really?” she looked up at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, really,” you smiled back before giving the shoulder of her shirt a little tug. “Wanna get more comfortable?”

Mina let go of your cock and gave you a nod before reaching over for the wine and taking another swig. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, then put the bottle back and slipped her shirt off. As she tossed it to the side, you climbed onto the bed with her and unbuckled her bra for her, exposing her cute tits.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you gushed softly as Mina covered her chest up with her hands. “Don’t be shy, you’re so fucking hot and you should own it.”

Mina blushed hard again, flashing you a small smile before slowly moving her hands away and letting you admire her tits freely.

“These, too?” you suggested, giving her shorts a small tug.

“Umm,” Mina whispered back shyly, avoiding your gaze again.

“Don’t stress it,” you smiled at her before climbing onto the bed and laying next to her. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, we can go slow,” you added, leaning in and kissing her neck, “just tell me what you like and what you don’t.”

“I’d like that,” she whispered as you planted kisses all along her collarbone while softly pressing your palms against her tits. “This is nice.”

“Good,” you breathed against her skin, exploring her body with your hand. You slid your fingers down her tummy, slipping them just slightly into her waistband before pausing. “This?”

She bit her lip softly before nodding at you, her eyes wide and nervous.

With her permission, you eased your hand into her shorts, carefully feeling around for her folds. You were gentle and careful, making delicate little circles against her pussy as you sucked on one of her tits. You let the sound of her moans guide you.

“Mina,” you whispered quietly. “Can I go down on you?”

Her body froze briefly at the suggestion before she answered. “I… I’d prefer if you didn’t… is that fine…?”

“Of course–”

“But you can put it in,” she added softly.

“Fingers?”

“No, not fingers.”

Lifting your body up to see her properly, you looked down at her and confirmed. “You want me to… you sure? It’s completely up to you.”

She nodded, her expression screaming ‘please be gentle’.

“Then, these will–”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Mina reached down and took off her shorts. She still seemed a bit embarrassed to be nude in front of you, so you did her the courtesy of not looking – you even grabbed the blanket and pulled it over your bodies.

“You ready?” you whispered as you moved between her legs.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, spreading her legs wide for you.

Feeling around under the blankets, you found her pussy with your cock, and slowly, inch by inch, you pressed forward until you entered about halfway into Mina’s soft pussy.

She was incredibly tight, hugging your shaft wonderfully. It took a lot of restraint to hold yourself back, to fight the urge to just slam your cock as hard into her little pussy as you could, but you could see she was struggling to warm up to you.

“How’s that?” you asked, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

“Tight,” she moaned, clenching her jaw. “Keep going.”

So you eased in a bit deeper before pausing again. You gave her a moment before you pulled back, then pushed forward again, moving your hips in a slow and steady rhythm. Even going this slowly and carefully, Mina’s pussy felt fucking amazing.

“Hold on,” you paused and reached above Mina’s head. You grabbed one of the pillows and placed it under her hips. “Better?”

“A bit,” she nodded as her body relaxed and her breathing steadied.

“Good,” you leaned forward and kissed her before you began moving your hips again.

It was so painfully difficult to hold back, but you wanted her to feel good. Still, the moment was phenomenal. Mina was more beautiful than ever, her expression screaming to you every detail of every inch she took. Her face could tell you a story as it contorted with each thrust.

This went on for a bit more before Mina began moaning gently. Even her moans were graceful and calm, even as her chest began heaving up and down with deep breaths, her voice was soft and majestic. You pumped a bit faster, still being careful not to go too deep, but being more daring with each thrust, reading her expression the whole time.

Your hands began exploring around her body, from her tits to her face to her hips and her thighs, you touched and grabbed anything you could, kissing anything your mouth could reach. You engulfed as much of her warmth as you could, straining yourself as you kept your body moving steadily, building up a sweat against Mina’s soft skin.

Then, you felt Mina tense up and her pussy burned hot, hotter than ever before. Her gentle moans became just a touch more aggressive as she let loose, as her pussy quivered and vibrated, taking your cock even deeper now.

As tenderly and lovingly, you fucked her for as long as she could ride out her orgasm, making sure to give her the best experience possible. At this point, you had your hands pressing against her hips as you looked down at her, watching in delight as she squirmed.

“Oh fuck,” Mina shrieked, the loudest noise to come out of her mouth all night.

Quickly, you pulled out and brought your hand to her pussy, pressing down on her clit. She writhed and twisted to your touch, arching her back hard. You rubbed her softly until she finally relaxed, until her breaths turned shallow and rapid. Then, you leaned in to give her one final gentle kiss on the lips before sitting up.

“How was that?” you smiled at her while rubbing her thigh.

“Really good,” Mina sighed before getting embarrassed and shutting her legs.

“Here,” you ignored her embarrassment and grabbed the bottle of wine, handing it to her.

She took a huge swig, using her other hand to cover herself up. “D-Did you finish?” she asked timidly while putting the bottle back.

“Don’t worry about that,” you handed her back her underwear and shorts while averting your gaze. “All that matters is that you had a good time.”

“But–”

“It happens sometimes, but it doesn’t mean anything about you at all,” you smiled at Mina who was now using her shorts to cover herself. “You had a good time, right?”

“I did.”

“Then I’m happy,” you leaned in a bit closer. “Can I kiss you?”

She sat up and met you halfway, tilting her head to the side and softly pressing her lips against yours.

After your lips parted gently, she smiled at you, her cheeks still tinted red – probably from the alcohol. “I’m going to freshen up real quick.”

“Sure, I’ll see you in a bit,” you responded warmly.

Mina got off the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, taking the bottle of wine with her. You watched in admiration, trying not to stare too much while also blatantly peeking at her cute butt. Truthfully, you wanted more, she felt incredible, but you weren’t going to push it.

“So,” Momo plopped down onto the bed next to you. “Hours and hours all over YouTube?”

“I told you I did some research.”

“Clearly,” she giggled, snuggling up into your arms. “Did your research lead you to think you’d end up in this situation?”

“Not exactly,” you smiled back, resting your hand on her ass. “Although what was it, the Hawaii vlog? I had a gut feeling that you and Sana definitely got up to some fun off camera. Or maybe it was because of that middle of the night VLive–”

“Wait a minute,” Momo muttered as she sat up and turned to face you, her eyebrows raised. “How much did you actually look into us?”

“Eh, the rabbit hole is deep, I barely scratched the surface.”

“I’m kinda impressed,” she dropped back down into your arms and wrapped hers around your chest. “I guess you are just another fan after all.”

“Does that change anything about tonight?”

“Maybe a little,” Momo giggled softly, “but why are you saying that as if the night’s over?”

“Uh, well, Sana’s literally passed out and Mina sounds like she’s filling up a bath.”

“And you have your hands on my ass,” Momo replied casually, “since we’re pointing out the obvious.”

“Well damn, you have a point,” you gave her a rough spank before rolling over so that she was below you. “So, tell me, what do you have in mind?”

“I couldn’t help overhear your conversation with Mina.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Momo echoed. “I appreciate how much you care about her feelings, but you should still get to finish.”

“It’s really not–”

“Shush,” Momo pressed two fingers against your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I… you…” you stammered under her gaze, losing control despite being above her.

“Alright then, very specific,” she giggled. “Let’s just go with the flow for a bit?” Momo suggested with a smirk, her voice dripping with warm, sexual urge as she rolled over so that she was on top of you now.

She sat up with her legs around your hips. “You’ve been working so hard tonight, I can see that,” she noted, sliding one of her fingers down your sweat slicked chest slowly before bringing it up into her mouth. She slowly pushed her finger until the second knuckle, her eyes smiling at you with her lips pursed, before slowly easing her finger back out, releasing with an exaggerated pop. “How about you let me do the work?”

“I can do that,” you moaned as Momo began rubbing her body against your cock gently. “I can definitely do that.”

“Good,” Momo smirked as she lifted herself up just slightly and began reaching between her legs to find your cock.

She fumbled around until your tip was lined up before leaning forward and placing both hands on your pecs. Then, while keeping the most provocative eye contact you have ever experienced, she slowly – excruciatingly slowly – lowered her body onto your cock.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, closing her eyes, drawing out the word until they stretched across your brain, lowering herself all the way down. “It really never gets old.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” you gasped as she began moving her hips back and forth slowly.

It was impossible to decide if you should be staring at her cute face as she softly scrunched up her features in pleasure, or if you should be admiring her massive tits hanging down in front of your face. They moved so methodically, swaying gently as Momo began riding your cock slowly, making sure you felt each and every inch go into her with every movement.

“You like that?” Momo cooed softly as she began speeding up just a bit. “You like fucking my pussy?”

She moved her hands up to your shoulders, leaning forward a bit more so that her tits were even closer to your face. At this point there was no other option, you were completely fixated by her tits. They were so perfect. Absolutely mesmerizing. You were in a trance, one you couldn’t snap out of even if you tried – You just had to reach up and grab them.

Despite being far from the first time you’ve had Momo’s tits in your hands, they somehow felt softer than ever. You squished into them, pressing your fingers deep, but that only lasted a few seconds before you were overwhelmed by the urge for more. You let go of her soft tits and hugged Momo, pulling her down onto you so that your face ended up nestled between her soft tits.

“Oh you really like them,” Momo gasped out breathily, moving her hips even faster as she rode your cock hard.

Momo wrapped her hands around your head, pushing you deeper into her chest as you opened your mouth and began desperately trying to fit as much of her soft tits into your mouth as you could. It was an impossible task, yet you still tried, smearing your saliva all over her chest until you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

With all that pressure building up in your cock, you knew you had to make the most of what energy you had left. So, you bent your legs, putting Momo at a better angle, and gripped her ass hard with both hands. Then you began, with every remaining ounce of effort that you could muster, shoving your hips up into Momo’s pussy as hard and fast as you could.

She moaned out loudly, a stream of profanities as apparently this slightly adjusted position was hitting all the right spots, and even through the muffling of Momo’s tits squishing your face you could hear her amorous clear as day. It was driving you mad, her moans and cries easily drowning out the sound of your skin slapping against hers.

Sudden carnal instincts had you giving Momo’s gorgeous ass a few more spanks as you felt yourself hitting the point of no return, yet again. With sweat building on your skin and Momo’s tits in your mouth, you gave the final push, making sure to go as deep as you could with each thrust, earning you the most luxurious shouts of pleasure from the girl riding your cock right now.

Just like that, you felt the first gush of cum launch up into Momo’s pussy. You opened your mouth wide, letting go of Momo’s tits, and cried out as you emptied your balls into the beautiful girl who had her massive tits hanging right there in front of your face.

“Fill me up baby,” Momo moaned out, looking down at you in the most passionately erotic way possible.

Other than the raw, unadulterated pleasure coursing through your cock right now, there was another feeling. One that caught you a bit off guard. This whole ordeal has been nothing deeper than a brief escape from reality, something that was supposed to disappear after this weekend, yet for some reason this girl had your heart pumping hard – not from exhaustion.

That same feeling from earlier with Sana as you lay on her back, it was consuming you. Were you now falling in love with Momo as well? Was that possible after just one weekend or was this just the hormones talking? You didn’t even know of their existence 48 hours ago, yet for some reason… No, now wasn’t the time to think about this, not with Momo riding your cock as you pumped her full with your cum.

Just as suddenly as those feelings filled your brain, they vanished – thanks to the grip Momo’s pussy had on your tip right now. She lifted herself up, turning slightly to the side, and picked herself up off your cock. A rush of warm cum spilled out of her lips and back onto your cock, glazing it thoroughly in white.

“Look at how much there is,” Momo swooned as she gripped your shaft and began playing with the mess. “You’d think you’d be out by now.”

Then, she got off you entirely and bent over your lap. Unlike before, she didn’t just give you a few gentle licks, she immediately engulfed your entire shaft.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned out as the warmth of Momo’s mouth soothed your sensitive cock.

Momo didn’t really care about how sensitive your cock was. All she cared about was how much cum there was on it. She swirled her tongue around, making a proper mess, before lifting her mouth up and holding it over your cock. With a devious little smile, she stared directly into your eyes as she opened her mouth and let a glob of white spill from her lips, back onto your shaft. Before you could comprehend what happened, she had lowered her mouth onto your cock again, licking up the whole mess.

It was nearly impossible to speak as Momo had your cock in her mouth. Even after all that happened, you were already hard again, and Momo could not be happier. At this point, she was just sucking your cock, there was no cum left to swallow.

“You keep cumming inside me instead of down my throat,” Momo whined, kissing your balls and inner thighs trying to find as much cum as she could. “Always making me do extra work, sucking it off your cock, out of Sana’s ass…”

“Sorry,” you chuckled, grabbing the back of Momo’s head and guiding her around your cock.

“It’s fine, still worth it.”

“Mina’s been in there for a while,” you grunted as Momo gave your tip a few licks. “Should someone check on her? Make sure she’s fine?”

“We could,” Momo answered before putting your tip back into her mouth and sucking any last bit of cum out. Slowly, she released your cock from her pursed lips with a small pop and smiled up at you. “Or how about you go and go check on her, see if she needs anything, if you know what I mean.”

“You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Momo replied as she stood up from the bed and grabbed your cock with her hand. “Clearly you still have enough in the tank to go again.”

“Somehow, yeah,” you sighed as Momo gently stroked you back to life yet again. “Fuck, what a night,”

“Good, she deserves it,” Momo let go of your cock and climbed next to Sana in the other bed. “It’s nice to see her finally let loose with a fan. Don’t knock, it won’t be locked.”

So you got off the bed, wrapped up in a robe as you waddled over to the bathroom. Sure enough, the door was unlocked, and inside was Mina laying in the bathtub with her eyes closed.

“Mina?” you whispered, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep

She opened her eyes slowly and turned to you, her face immediately lighting up.

“Hey!” she slurred while lifting herself halfway up from the tub, her cute tits hanging over the edge. “Come here.”

“What’s going on princess?” you walked up to her, kicking away the emptied wine bottle to the side. “You good?”

“I’m fucking great,” she giggled, reaching her arms out towards you. “I wanna try sucking it.”

“Oh?” you quickly grabbed her arm as she slipped into the tub.

“Oops,” she giggled again before lifting herself back up. “Yeah, I’m sure, come here.”

“Be careful,” you advised her as you stepped closer, letting her undo your robe and drop it to the floor. “Maybe we don’t do this right now?”

She opened her mouth wide, completely ignoring you, wrapped her lips around your shaft and immediately began blowing you. Her lips were soft and her face was fucking stunning, but her movements were uncoordinated and messy. You knew she was trying, and you applauded her for it, but you could tell she was struggling. She struggled to coordinate her mouth, and she kept losing balance. After just a minute or so, Mina pulled back, gasping deeply for air.

“Mina, you good?” you began asking before she waved you off.

Mina took your cock back into her mouth, this time moving faster and with more conviction, but her movements were still awkward. It felt nice, there was no denying that, and it definitely looked fucking great, but you could tell something was off.

Suddenly, she stopped.

“Everything alright?”

“Do you think you could…” her voice trailed off and she looked to the side, gripping the edge of the tub tightly and breathing deeply through an opened mouth.

Frankly, it wasn’t fair how stupidly cute this girl was. Her shyness just made her so insanely adorable. No matter what her next words were, you already knew your answer.

“Yes?” you gently encouraged her to continue.

“Could you…” she hiccupped as she turned up to face you again, her face bright red. “Take me like how you took Sana earlier?”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, taken aback at the request. “You mean in your–”

“No no no!” she quickly stammered. “I just mean from behind. Unless… well, actually I don’t think I’m ready for…”

“I understand,” you replied warmly with a smile before leaning in and kissing her. “Anything you want. Come here.”

Mina smiled brightly – putting the sun to shame – nodding eagerly before lifting herself up and out of the bathtub. She took your hand as you guided her over to the counter, water dripping off her slender body, and placed her hands on the hard marble. She stared into your eyes through the mirror, something clearly on her mind.

“What is it?” you asked gently.

“Do you think I could…” she hesitated, biting her lip. “Does it hurt?”

“You mean in here?” you asked as you slid your hand between her cheeks, carefully prodding her asshole. She nodded, expression screaming vulnerability, before you continued softly. “It can, sort of depends on the person.”

“Do you want…” she hesitated again, the timidness in her voice made each word hang suspended in the air. “If you do, I’d try.”

“How about we start with what you want first, and then we’ll see later?” you suggested with a tender smile as you moved your hand up to her lower back. “Bend over princess.”

She obliged, pivoting at the hips until her soft breasts hung just a couple of inches from the countertop, swaying just slightly, her elbows holding her body up. You leaned over her from behind and placed a prolonged, tender kiss on her back as you began gently kneading her ass with both of your hands.

“Ready?” you asked, spreading her slightly.

“Yes,” Mina whispered, brushing her hair out of her face before locking eyes with you in the mirror again.

She was so insanely beautiful. With caution, you lined yourself up and began slowly pushing forward into Mina’s tight little pussy. The moan, with the way her eyes shut tight and the way her forehead wrinkled ever so slightly, it was enough to make you melt. It wasn’t even your first time putting it in her tonight, yet somehow you had forgotten how amazingly tight she was.

“That’s good,” you mumbled quietly, rubbing your hands up and down her sides slowly as you began softly thrusting into her. “Tell me what you need.”

“Hard,” she answered, to your surprise, gritting her teeth. “I want to try.”

“Okay,” you whispered back, bringing your hands to her hips and tightening your grip.

Then, as per her request, you pulled your hips back and slammed them forward, shoving your cock all the way balls deep into Mina’s pussy for the first time. She screamed out, her feminine voice echoing against the marble walls, and her knees buckled, nearly dropping her body to the cold tiles below.

“Are you–”

“Again,” she sobbed, cutting you off, lifting her head up and opening her eyes, full of determination.

This girl would be the end of you. After taking a deep breath, you squeezed her hips once more before moving back. This time, you plowed forward and immediately pulled back before doing it again, and again, and again. You let her soft squeals fill the air as her legs began giving out, pressing her hips hard into the countertop, slamming into her pussy a couple more times, with as much power as you could muster, before pausing.

“Mina?” you slowed down, easing your cock as slowly into her as possible, massaging her back tenderly until her body stopped trembling. “You alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “D-Do I feel… good for you…?”

“You feel fucking amazing,” you whispered, leaning forward onto her back and wrapping your arms around her body, hugging her tight. “But you don’t have to do anything for me, I’m here for you, not the other way around.”

“I just want you to feel good…” she whispered back. “Since you’re my first.”

“I’m–” your voice hitched, getting stuck in your throat.

With your heart beating out of your chest, you leaned back, easing yourself out of Mina’s warmth carefully before grabbing her and turning her around. You stared tenderly into her eyes – they were still damp from earlier – before cupping her face in your hands and pressing your lips against hers. You kissed her until you could feel her physically relax – only then did you let her go. Mina stared back at you, lips slightly parted, breathing deeply.

“I had no idea that I was your first,” you broke the silence.

“I hope you don’t think I’m regretting anything,” Mina replied, her lips curling into a small, shy smile. “Tonight has been amazing.”

“Is that you or the wine talking?”

“Definitely me,” she giggled adorably. “I sobered up pretty quick after you slammed your…”

“Sorry–”

“Don’t apologize, I asked for it,” Mina cut you off sternly. “As much as it hurt, it also felt nice.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled at her as you brushed her hair out of her face, “but I don’t believe you.”

“You’re right,” Mina giggled softly, wiping her eyes again. “That really hurt.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, closing the distance between your mouths and kissing her tenderly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s fine,” Mina whispered back, sliding her hands around your body. “Does the other hole hurt that much more?”

“Mina,” you muttered, leaning back slightly and pushing her hair behind her ear. “If you want to try, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it, just tell me.”

“I’m just…” she hesitated again.

“No pressure, whatever you want, I’m yours,” you replied softly, giving her another kiss. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” she asked, looking up at you with glossy eyes that could melt the fibres of your heart.

“I’d never.”

“It’s really stupid but…” she began slowly. “I just saw how you looked earlier with Sana… I’m just a bit jealous I guess.”

“Mina, it’s not a competition,” you reassured her gently, leaning in closer to her until you could feel her warmth on your skin. “I’ve loved every moment with you, seriously.”

“It’s not just you. It feels like every fan we’ve had in the room just goes crazy for her,” Mina continued. “And meanwhile, I never even have the courage to do anything with them, I just watch or wait for them to finish before I come back to the room.”

“Mina, you are amazing,” you wanted to rip your hair out in frustration, desperately trying to figure out how to convince this beauty of a woman how perfect she was.

“So what am I doing wrong?” she asked with tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t even make you cum.”

“Nothing!” you replied, almost angrily. “Just, maybe you just need to be more of yourself, and not like Sana or Momo.”

She paused for a moment, pondering your line, before nodding slightly up at you. “How?” she asked earnestly. “What should I do?”

“That’s what I mean,” you pushed her hair behind her ear. “You have to tell me. Whatever feels right. I can’t decide for you.”

Mina hesitated, but then she grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the toilet. She sat you down on the seat and took your cock in her gentle fingers, stroking you softly while staring into your eyes.

“Alright,” she whispered as she dropped down to her knees.

She leaned over your lap and slowly lowered her lips to your cock and began sucking your tip. With a tight seal around your cock, she used her hand to stroke you up and down softly. It already felt a million times better. This time, she wasn’t timid, she wasn’t nervous, she was confident. That made all the difference.

“That’s nice,” you moaned as Mina worked.

The girl was so unbelievably beautiful with your cock in her mouth. Each movement was delicate and graceful. There wasn’t a rough cell in her body, she was pure cloudy softness. Her tongue and lips created this beautifully stunning little medley of pleasure against your tip, combined with her steady and gentle strokes, it felt amazing.

Just as you felt yourself nearing completion, Mina let go of your cock. She had no idea how close you were just now, but she also seemingly didn’t care as she had her mind set on what was coming next. With that same grace and elegance that her entire body exuded, Mina got up from her knees and straddled your lap.

As she began lowering her body slowly, you helped her by holding your cock steady. Even now, in your hands, your cock was throbbing at the sight of Mina’s soft pussy. Her entrancing folds leisurely spread apart, making room for your cock to enter. Just like that, in a single movement, Mina lowered herself onto your shaft.

She rested her hands on your shoulders, her mouth wide open and eyes shut, as she began bouncing up and down carefully on your cock. The beauty of Mina’s movements was how perfectly calm they were. She wasn’t jumping around all crazy, she wasn’t rough, it was just a melodic rhythm of her pussy working your cock.

And fuck did she look good. You gradually worked your hands up Mina’s hips towards her gentle tits, caressing each curve on the way, pressing into her soft chest. You took her nipples between your fingers, squeezing them softly, quickly wiping the saliva off your lips as you felt yourself drooling over the view of Mina’s tits.

She kept bouncing, just as steadily and carefully as ever, making little circles with her hips against your cock. Her pussy was warmer than ever before, and still just as tight. Then, she began moaning, and you felt her pussy contracting. Yet, despite the waves of tightness you felt her pussy emanating against your cock, she didn’t scream or cry out. She let the most delicate breaths escape her lips, her eyes still shut tight, and her pussy gushing all over your cock.

While she finished, you felt yourself nearing as well. Your hands, which had let go of Mina’s tits, gradually made their way down her body again, resting against her ass. Mina’s ass was softer than ever, the perfect handfuls. You pulled her cheeks apart slightly, giving them each a couple of slaps as your cock throbbed and cried with the final few little bounces Mina took.

Working in tandem with her movements, you gave your hips just a couple of small thrusts before pulling Mina down on your cock and holding her steady as you felt the first spurt of cum shoot into her. You moaned out, way louder than expected, before grabbing Mina’s back and pulling her into a tight hug around your body.

She wrapped her arms around you as well, squeezing back just as hard, letting her pussy drain your cock of all the cum you had left inside you. The two of you held together in silent warmth, tears filling your eyes with how good Mina’s pussy felt and how hard you were cumming inside her. You quickly stopped yourself once your body began calming down and you felt your nails digging into Mina’s back.

“Sorry!” you gasped, voice raspier than ever.

“Don’t,” Mina whispered back, her eyes dewy and soft as she finally opened them to stare at you.

Even though you wanted to tell her how amazing that felt, and how perfect she was, you couldn’t find the words nor the ability to share them. So, instead, you settled by leaning in for a kiss. Mina noticed the second you leaned forward and met you, crashing her mouth against yours, grabbing the back of your back with her hands.

The two of you kissed for a long while, your cock gently softening inside Mina’s warm pussy until you felt it slip out. Only then, did Mina let the kiss end, leaning back and staring at you through tears.

“That was so perfect,” you whispered, stroking Mina’s hair out of her face.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “For everything. Seriously.”

Mina, taking your hand, carefully got off your lap. She took a glance down between her legs and saw streaks of your cum going all the way down her thighs. You grabbed a wad of toilet paper and carefully wiped her clean as she stood before you with her hands on your shoulders for balance.

“So what now?” Mina asked, smiling her thanks as you finished wiping her off. “Back to one of them?”

“No,” you replied softly before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Mina’s pussy.

“Oh!” she gasped, jolting slightly but not pulling back. She quickly warmed up to the kiss, running her hands through your hair as you gave her pussy a final few sucks.

“I’m done, and happy to end with that,” you added as you pulled back and stood up in front of Mina.

Mina looked to the side, her cheeks blushed bright red, but you didn’t let her look away. You calmly pushed her face back towards you and leaned in for another short kiss before holding your hand out for her to take. She accepted, walking with you out of the bathroom. The two of you walked back into the bedroom to find Momo and Sana passed out in each other’s arms.

“I guess they’re also done,” Mina giggled softly. “It looks like you’ll get your wish. Heading back to your room then?”

“I don’t know,” you began replying as you hugged Mina from behind and placed your chin on her shoulder. “I really enjoy holding you, and my room is pretty empty.”

“Unfortunately I don’t feel like getting dressed, so I can’t go back to your room with you,” Mina giggled again before grabbing your hand and pulling you with her to her bed. “But how’s this?”

“Perfect,” you lay down on top of Mina’s body and tossed the blanket over your back. “I guess I’m staying the night.”

Mina looked up at you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen before reaching over and hitting the light switch, leaving the room in darkness. Then, she pulled you closer and kissed you again with her legs wrapped around your waist. The two of you ended up making out for the next hour or so, not caring at all about anything else in the world.

Eventually, you both drifted off, still tangled in each other’s warmth. It felt like an ending, but also a beginning – like no one could know what the future might bring. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the girl in your arms, and with that, you found the deepest, most peaceful sleep you could ever imagine.

A/N:

This might just be the horniest piece I've ever written. There's actually like 95% just smut, 5% plot. Whatever, I was horny, enjoy. It's about time I give these three some pure smut, they deserve it so much. This was easily long enough to be 2 or 3 parts, but it was all literally one scene without any natural breaks, so one part it is.

I've just been finishing up a bunch of my partially completed fics recently, thus the frequent uploads. The pace will obviously slow down again, but I've also started up a couple of new fics again. I just keep getting new ideas and wanting to write them. Anna from Meovv still on the to-do list at some point!

A few of you have been asking for Exchange, but sorry that series is still taking a short break, not super motivated to work on it at the moment and I don't wanna just rush a mediocre update. Debauchery part 1 did quite well, so I'll probably try getting part 2 out soonish. I'll give TPM and DS a bit longer before I post the next parts, but just know they're already being worked on. And of course, I still have a handful of Roommates fics in progress, I'll get to those eventually too!

Love y'all, be safe, watch your health, stay horny. I'm still reading your asks and messages whenever I can! <3

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

Takedown

Sorry for the late drop Dio has been going through it this week and is operating at 1/10 his normal self, and Dino is still working on his novel so this took a bit longer to make, needless to say we all loved the movie though.

Yes this is unironically a reference.

“Huntrix Girls to World!” The chorus blasted through Theseus’s earbuds just as his flight touched down in South Korea — the final stop of his world tour. He glanced at his two handlers seated beside him.

“I still don’t know about this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Megara grinned. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

Dino clapped him on the shoulder. “Think of it as a vacation. No demons. No rival hunters. Just good vibes, good music, and us.”

The trio stood, throwing on jackets. Theseus pulled up his hood low over his face as they made their way through the bustling airport. Despite the late hour, the place was packed. A plane at the next terminal had just arrived, drawing a massive crowd — the pride of South Korea had returned.

TWICE.

After their record-breaking 4th World Tour, the queens were finally home for some rest. But as fate would have it, both groups converged at the same baggage claim.

Theseus was adjusting his bag strap when he looked up — and locked eyes with her.

Jihyo.

Leader. Idol. National treasure. And, according to the files, high-ranking hunter.

He froze.

Unsure what else to do, he gave a stiff little wave.

Jihyo, effortlessly radiant, smiled and waved back. Then, casually, like they were old friends, she walked straight over to him.

“Hi,” she said, voice warm and confident.

Theseus blinked. “Uh… hi back.”

Jihyo laughed, folding her arms. “Not much of a talker, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he admitted. “But I can try. Hi, Jihyo-noona.”

“Ooh, polite and respectful? You’re not bad for a foreigner,” she teased. “But just call me Jihyo.”

“You’re basically royalty here. Felt like I should at least try to act right.”

She smiled. Then leaned in, her voice suddenly low, sweet, and dangerous.

“Being polite won’t save you, demon. I’m still going to kill you.”

Theseus stiffened, blood turning to ice. He instinctively took a step back. She followed.

“I’ll find you,” she whispered. “And gut you.”

Theseus blinked, trying to keep cool. “Uh… no Inglés?” he muttered before grabbing his bag and sprinting toward the exit.

Jihyo laughed, watching him flee. Moments later, Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung joined her.

“Unnie,” Chaeyoung said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “can you not scare the demons right away? You always spook them before we get a chance.”

Jihyo grinned. “Please. Where can he hide? This is our turf.”

Jeongyeon crossed her arms. “Yeah, but maybe next time don’t warn the prey?”

Just as the three prepared to give chase, a tidal wave of fans swarmed the girls with cameras flashing, squeals rising like sirens. The distraction gave Theseus just enough cover to slip into the crowd — and vanish.

The crowd was still buzzing around them, fans shrieking, camera flashes going off like fireworks. TWICE had barely taken ten steps before security finally formed a protective barrier. The three girls regrouped near a corner by the baggage carousels, just out of reach.

Jeongyeon didn’t wait.

“You let him go,” she said, her voice low and sharp.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. “He ran.”

Chaeyoung jabbed a finger toward her. “Because you told him you were gonna gut him!”

“That’s called psychological warfare.”

“It’s called stupid,” Jeongyeon snapped. “We had a clear shot. No cover, no fans, no bodyguards. He was right there.”

Jihyo put her hands up, smirking. “Okay, okay, maybe I got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Chaeyoung’s hands were on her hips now. “You scared him off like a feral cat. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Jihyo said slowly, “that it’s more fun when they run.”

That stopped both of them for a moment.

Jeongyeon groaned. “You and your hunter’s ego.”

Jihyo smiled. “What? It’s been boring lately. He looked interesting. Strong aura, too. Definitely not some low-tier demonic intern.”

��Still,” Chaeyoung said, sighing, “we’ve got a job. You can flirt after we neutralize the threat.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Jihyo said too quickly.

Both of them stared at her.

Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. “You told him you’d gut him with a smile. That’s your exact flirting face.”

Jihyo folded her arms, letting out a breath. “Fine. Maybe I wanted to see what he’d do under pressure.”

“He ran.”

“Exactly. That tells me a lot.”

Jeongyeon pinched the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable. You’ve been listening to Sana again, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Chaeyoung crossed her arms. “Well, next time? Just stab first. Banter after. We’re supposed to be discreet, remember?”

“Sure, sure,” Jihyo said, waving them off. “Next time, I’ll be the picture of restraint.”

“You’re never the picture of restraint,” Jeongyeon muttered.

Chaeyoung looked back at the crowd. “Think he’s still in the terminal?”

Jihyo’s smirk returned. “Doesn’t matter. I tagged him.”

They both turned toward her.

“You what?”

“Just a little sigil on his bag. We’ll know where he’s staying within the hour.”

Jeongyeon stared. “So… you planned to let him go?”

“Not exactly,” Jihyo said, already turning toward the exit with that same dangerous gleam in her eyes. “But I figured… let the demon sweat a little. Let him think he got away.”

Chaeyoung shook her head in disbelief. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the leader.” She grinned. “And he just became my next obsession.”

Theseus arrived at the hotel with Megara and Dino 45 minutes later. Check-in was uneventful — quiet, efficient, almost suspiciously normal.

While Megara handled logistics with a call to the radio station they’d be guesting on tomorrow, Theseus retreated to the bathroom, craving the rinse of hot water and solitude.

Steam rose around him as the shower ran, washing away the stiffness of the flight — but not the ghost of her.

Jihyo.

She lingered in his mind like a perfume. Vanilla — soft and cloying, deceptively sweet. Her voice had slithered into his ear, low and lethal. The glint in her eye. The threat in her smile. The way she moved, like someone who already knew the outcome of every fight.

She was gorgeous. Too gorgeous.

And dangerous.

A slayer like him shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts about a hunter, especially not one as infamous as her. They were natural enemies — or at least, conditioned ones. No alliances. No dalliances. Certainly no distractions.

He’d stay out of her way. Leave the country. Bury the memory.

That was the plan.

After showering and changing into sweats and a fresh tee, he stepped back into the suite—only to stop cold.

The room was dark.

No lights. No noise.

He hadn’t turned them off. Neither had Dino or Megara.

He froze.

Then—vanilla.

His fingers flexed. A flash of cold ether crackled through his palm as he summoned his revolver, the silver weapon forming fully in his grip. He cocked the hammer without hesitation.

“I was starting to think this would be too easy,” came that familiar, honey-slick voice.

His stomach dropped.

A shape moved in the darkness — then the glint of a blade.

Jihyo stepped forward, casual as moonlight.

“You’ve got good instincts… for a demon.”

“I’m not a demon,” Theseus said, voice even.

“They all say that.” She tilted her head. “But you’ve got the aura. The scent. Something ancient clinging to you.”

“And you have a sword pointed at my neck.”

Jihyo grinned. “You noticed.”

He didn’t lower his weapon. She didn’t lower hers.

Then she whispered, delighted, “Do you feel lucky?”

Theseus groaned. “Did you seriously just quote Dirty Harry?”

“Shut up. It’s my turn to say it.” She stepped closer, hips swaying with unnerving confidence. “Answer the question.”

“I don’t. But I’ll still get three shots off before you reach me.”

Jihyo stopped — just a breath out of reach. Her eyes scanned his face, then his weapon.

The revolver gleamed, forged from cold silver, humming with residual rage and something darker.

“That’s quite the demon gun,” she said softly, almost admiringly.

“It is… on a technicality,” he admitted. “I made it from a demon’s heart.”

Her brows lifted. “Really?” she said, stepping even closer.

He could smell her now. Feel her presence like a pressure in the air. Fear and desire clashed in his chest like colliding storms. Every alarm in his body screamed to shoot. To run. To do something.

Instead—he kissed her.

Desperate, hungry, doomed.

He crushed his mouth to hers like it was the last act of a dying man. Maybe it was.

If he was going to die, it might as well be at the hands of someone beautiful.

For half a second, Jihyo froze.

He kissed her.

Not hesitantly. Not sweetly. No — like he thought it would be the last thing he ever did.

And it should have been.

Her blade was at his neck, sharp enough to slip between vertebrae. All it would take was one twitch of her wrist. She’d done it a hundred times before — fast, clean, precise.

But this time… she didn’t move.

Not because she was stunned — but because something deep inside her didn’t want to.

Damn it. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was a demon. A wild anomaly with a demon-forged gun and a pulse that practically radiated forbidden magic.

And yet… he kissed like someone who wanted her, not in spite of what she was — but because of it.

Her heart was pounding. Fast. Loud. She could feel the weight of the blade in her hand, still raised, but limp now — forgotten. His revolver was still drawn too, but neither of them were aiming anymore.

They were just close. Too close.

His lips were warm. Desperate. Honest in a way that made her chest ache.

She hated it. She loved it.

She hated that she loved it.

Get it together, Jihyo.

You’re the predator here. You found him. Cornered him. Marked him. You were going to gut him. You were supposed to gut him.

But instead—

She dropped her blade.

It clattered to the ground, the sound sharp, startling — like a gunshot.

A second later, his revolver followed, thudding against the carpet.

Her hands were on his chest before she even realized it. Pushing him — hard — against the hotel wall. His back hit it with a dull thud, but he didn’t resist.

He looked at her, surprised. Open. Like he hadn’t expected to still be alive.

She grabbed his collar.

And kissed him back.

Not soft. Not slow. Hard. Hungry. Furious.

It wasn’t affection. It was defiance. Of the rules. The war. Herself.

His hands found her waist — hesitant, then firm — and for a moment, the room was only breath and heat and the quiet hum of danger unspoken.

She pulled away first, eyes narrowed, breath uneven.

“You kiss like a death wish,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “Maybe it is.”

Jihyo stared at him. Then smirked — not sweetly, but with fire behind it. “If you’re trying to seduce your way out of being hunted…”

He didn’t answer.

She didn’t need him to.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…It might be working.”

The kiss didn’t stop. Not after her jacket hit the floor.

Theseus wasn’t sure who was leading anymore. Maybe it didn’t matter. They were tangled in each other, mouths pressed, breaths heavy, his back still against the wall of the hotel suite. Jihyo’s fingers had twisted in his shirt before tugging it up slightly — not with grace, but with intent.

She was all fire and precision, like she was cataloguing the shape of him with every brush of her hands. The edge of her blade might be gone, but she hadn’t lost her sharpness.

Then she pulled back slightly, lips just grazing his, breath mixing with his in the stillness.

“Too many layers,” she muttered, annoyed — at him, at herself, at the rules she was already breaking.

She shrugged off her jacket, revealing the sleeveless black top beneath — tactical, breathable, tight against her frame.

But something else caught his eye.

His breath hitched. There — just above her collarbone, faintly pulsing beneath the skin — was a mark.

Not ink. Not a hunter’s brand. Something older. Etched in a language only those who trafficked in dark blood would recognize.

The glyph was shifting ever so slightly. Alive.

Theseus’s hands paused where they were, resting on her hips, and his eyes widened.

“You…” he whispered. “You’re not fully human.”

Jihyo went still.

Her face didn’t change, not at first — but her heartbeat, fast as it was, skipped a beat.

Theseus brought a hand up slowly, brushing his fingers near the mark without touching it. “This is elder script,” he murmured. “Old blood magic. You’ve got demon lineage. Not low-tier either… something ancient.”

She didn’t deny it.

Instead, she leaned in, forehead almost against his, voice barely above a breath.

“I told you I’d gut you.”

He searched her eyes, half-expecting to see malice. But there was only a strange, weary intensity.

“You’re a hunter,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around it. “How can you be part of the thing you’re trained to kill?”

Jihyo let out a soft laugh — humorless, quiet, dangerous. “Do you think humans run the hunter’s guilds? Do you think they’d let a pure mortal be in charge of keeping demons in check?”

“Elder demon blood,” he repeated. “You’re stronger than you let on.”

She tilted her head, smile razor-thin. “And you’re smarter than you look.”

For a beat, they stood there in the electric silence — the air thick with heat, confusion, and everything unsaid.

Then Theseus broke the silence, voice low, rough.

“So what now?”

Jihyo’s lips hovered just above his.

“We keep making out,” she said. “And you keep pretending I’m not deciding whether to kiss you again or kill you.”

He grinned — crooked, reckless. “I’ll take those odds.”

She kissed him again — harder this time, more desperate, like she was trying to convince herself it didn’t mean anything.

But they both knew better.

As their lips crashed Jihyo’s body kept heating up until she found the demonic fire within her fully manifesting. Jihyo’s eyes changed from a soft brown to a frenzied crimson. Claws stretched at her fingertips as she ripped into Theseus’s clothes tearing them to shreds, before pushing him onto the couch.

“I need you inside me right fucking now!” She growled. Theseus stared into her eyes as flames encircled him as he realized he was in way over his head. So he did what he always did. He adapted.

He slid inside the huntress’s tight hot and wet snatch as she accepted him she moaned. Feeling relieved the flames around Jihyo died down as Jihyo took more of Theseus’s cock inside of her.

“Fuck! Fuck!” She moaned in between methodical and powerful thrust. Theseus watched as her yiddies bounced mesmerically. Jihyo stared at Theseus watching him fall deeper into her charms.

“Grab them she commanded and Theseus did. Jihyo moaned even greater as his hands cupped her chest. He got lost in the suppleness but also the firmness of her breasts as he continued thrusting. Jihyo convulsed as she felt his hands run wild over her breasts. She moaned as he massaged and kneaded them.

“Do you like them?” Jihyo asked.

Theseus moaned as he nodded, “your body is evil!” He yelled. So hot and tempting

Jihyo laughed and challenged, “what are you gonna do about it?”

The marks of her demonic heritage grew all over as the flames began roaring going from crimson and orange to indigo and pink. She moaned before yelping in surprise as Theseus picked her up and continued fucking her.

“Keep going!” Jihyo screamed as his cock tore through her.

Theseus moaned as her pussy clamped down on his cock until he exploded inside of her. Jihyo moaned as he kept going sending her over her peak until she came. She gushed all over his cock leaving him drenched as she twitched and moaned.

The flames died down around Jihyo but she felt something in her shift. As if Theseus had awakened something inside of her.

Theseus sat beside Jihyo on the couch, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. The night was quiet now. No weapons. No threats. Just the steady rhythm of shared breathing and the slow, undeniable warmth that had grown between them.

He glanced down at her, surprised at how peaceful she looked. Jihyo — the storm — finally still.

Before long, sleep claimed them both.

⸻

In his dreams, she was everywhere — darting through his thoughts like a spark he couldn’t catch. He saw flashes of her laugh, the way she fought, the look in her eyes when she almost kissed him for the first time.

Jihyo’s dream was gentler. She saw herself dancing barefoot in a sunlit garden, spinning in circles, arms wide, laughter echoing like windchimes. Theseus was there too — distant at first, then slowly drawing near, hands outstretched.

⸻

The knocking shattered the moment.

Bang bang bang.

Both of them stirred with a jolt. Disoriented, tangled under a blanket that hadn’t been there before.

Jihyo blinked. “What the hell—?”

Theseus groaned. “Please tell me that’s not real.”

Another knock. More impatient this time.

Scrambling, they untangled themselves from the blanket, trying to piece together what happened. His shirt was missing. Her jacket had vanished. In the chaos, Jihyo accidentally yanked Theseus’s oversized hoodie over her head while trying to find her top, and Theseus, flustered and half-awake, shoved her beanie onto his head by mistake.

They froze, glancing at each other.

“…I don’t think this is a good look,” Jihyo mumbled, the hoodie practically swallowing her whole.

“You think?” Theseus muttered, adjusting the beanie that was far too snug.

The knocking came again.

With a sigh, he stumbled toward the door and cracked it open — still wearing her beanie.

Megara and Dino stood outside, holding coffee and paper bags.

Megara took one look at him and blinked. “Why are you wearing a pink beanie?”

Theseus opened his mouth. Closed it. “I… was cold?”

Dino leaned to the side, spotting Jihyo peeking out from the blanket behind him in his hoodie.

“Ah,” Dino grinned, elbowing Megara. “Guess diplomacy’s going well.”

Jihyo groaned from the couch. “Don’t start.”

Megara smirked. “We brought breakfast. But maybe we’ll come back in, say, twenty minutes?”

“Make it thirty,” Jihyo called out, already pulling the hood up over her face.

Theseus didn’t even argue. He just nodded and shut the door.

As they finally got dressed properly, Theseus tugged on his rumpled pants and glanced at Jihyo, who was sprawled across the bed, still lounging in his hoodie.

“You owe me a new outfit,” he muttered, buttoning his shirt halfway.

Jihyo smirked, stretching lazily. “If you keep fucking me like last night, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “You are dangerously generous when you’re smug.”

She grinned, then blinked — noticing deep red claw marks trailing across his back. Her smirk faded.

“Huh.”

He turned. “What?”

Jihyo stood and ran a finger lightly along one of the scratches. “Demons don’t scar like humans.” Her voice dropped, thoughtful. “But you do.”

“That’s because I’m not a demon,” Theseus said plainly.

Jihyo’s eyes narrowed. “Okay then. So what are you?”

He exhaled and gave a small shrug. “I’m a Slayer. Born human. Strong enough to kill demons, fast enough to survive them. But I don’t belong to either side.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, skeptical. “You expect me to believe that?”

He raised both hands. “Do I look like I’ve got demon marks?”

She gave him a long, calculating look, taking in his lean form, his scars, his eyes. Then sighed.

“No… you don’t.”

“Exactly,” he said. “But most hunters don’t ask. They just come swinging. So I usually respond with a shot between the eyes or straight through the heart. Saves time.”

She smirked. “What about me?”

“What about you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“You didn’t go for the kill.”

Theseus chuckled, stepping in to kiss her on the cheek. She let out a small, surprised yelp.

“I kinda did,” he said with a grin. “Just not through the ribcage.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her neck. “Okay, Mr. Slayer,” she teased. “But what’s your plan for the other hunters? You can’t seduce all of them.”

He shrugged. “I only really need to avoid you. The rest won’t be expecting me.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Good answer,” she said, stepping closer, her voice low and possessive. “Because you’re mine now.”

Her aura pulsed — a flicker of demonic energy behind her eyes, like a storm rolling in under calm skies.

Theseus felt the shift, the tension building again — fast and hot. He quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ve got a radio show to prep for.”

Jihyo blinked. “What radio show?”

He sighed. “The one I’m scheduled to be on for my world tour? You know — the thing I’m currently doing?”

“Oh. You’re an artist?” she asked, blinking in genuine curiosity.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Metal act. Name’s Malevolence. Technically it’s a one-man show, but the name sounds cooler when it sounds like a band.”

She gave him a slow, surprised smile. “Damn. A slayer with stage presence. I really am keeping you.”

He snorted. “I’m flattered. Now get out of my hoodie.”

Jihyo yawned and flopped back onto the bed. “Make me.”

Theseus stared at her for a beat, then turned around before she could tempt him further. “I swear you’re trying to sabotage me.”

“Not sabotage,” she called after him, voice dripping with smugness. “Just claiming what’s mine.”

The sunlight was annoyingly bright when Jihyo stepped outside, hoodie still clinging to her frame like a guilty pleasure. It smelled like him — smoky, musky, warm — and for once, she didn’t mind being marked. She looked at the design on it. It seemed like English but the font was all “fuzzy,” Jihyo thought to herself trying to read it.

She tugged the zipper up halfway, hands buried in the front pocket as she slipped into the bathroom and opened a warp sigil back to her apartment. A sigh left her lips as she stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee beans, lavender, and faint brimstone greeting her like an old friend.

She leaned against the door for a moment, her head tilted back.

What the hell was that last night?

It had started as a stakeout. A clean kill. Observe, interrogate, execute. And now she was home in his hoodie and bite marks left on his collarbone, memories of growled praise and tangled limbs still replaying like a song stuck on loop.

Jihyo groaned and shoved her face into her hands. “you’re an idiot.”

She finally peeled the hoodie off and tossed it over a chair before dragging herself into the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her — wild hair, a few new bruises, lips that still looked a little too swollen.

She smirked. Her eyes flashed violet for a minute as she felt the demonic fire within rage inside of her.

Yeah, okay. She wasn’t mad about it.

She decided to shower before meeting with Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon As the water from the shower warmed up, she texted the group chat:

Jihyo: Home. On the way in 30. Don’t start without me.

Jeongyeon: We’re at the spa already. You’re late.

Chaeyoung: Bring snacks or suffer <3

She rolled her eyes but smiled. The spa day had been planned weeks ago — a post-mission/ tour treat for surviving another near-disaster involving a possessed subway and a rogue succubus cult. Honestly, Jihyo was just glad she wasn’t limping from that mission.

She grabbed her favorite black leggings, a flowy crop top, and tossed her damp hair into a half-messy bun. Her gaze lingered on the hoodie for a moment — Theseus’s scent still clinging to it like a memory that hadn’t fully left.

She debated taking it.

“Nope,” she muttered. “They’d smell the testosterone a mile away.”

She opted for a clean jacket, something neutral and unassuming, and added just enough concealer to hide the love bite peeking above her collarbone. Just because she wasn’t ashamed didn’t mean she was ready for the third-degree.

Still, as she packed her bag and slid into her shoes, she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

They were absolutely going to find out.

And she absolutely deserved this moment.

Jihyo tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, a slight smirk tugging at her lips as she tuned into the radio station Theseus had mentioned. The static faded just in time for her to catch the tail end of the host’s intro.

“As promised, we’ve got the mosh pit king himself, the mind behind Malevolence — Theseus!”

Applause and background cheers filled the car’s speakers, and Jihyo couldn’t help but laugh softly at how composed he sounded, compared to the absolute menace he’d been last night.

Then one of the hosts let out a sudden gasp. “Wait—are you wearing a TWICE shirt?! Are you a ONCE?!”

There was a pause, then his voice, smooth and low as ever: “Yeah, been one since, like, 2019. Actually, that’s how I met my manager, Megara. We were both fans first. After my first song blew up, she helped me keep my life from crashing into hellfire.”

Jihyo raised a brow. That tracked. Megara had the cool-headed ruthlessness of someone who probably used spreadsheets to schedule destruction.

“Oh, so you’ve been with the same team since the beginning?” another host asked.

“Pretty much. Ride or die.”

The hosts drifted into English banter after that — some quips about tour antics and mosh pit etiquette that Jihyo only caught in fragments — but before she could piece it together, she was pulling into the spa parking lot.

Hand on the ignition, she was just about to shut off the engine when one final question caught her attention.

“So, would you ever invite TWICE to one of your shows?”

There was a beat. She imagined his lopsided grin as he answered, “They’re always welcome.”

Jihyo bit her lip, warmth creeping up her neck.

But then came the kicker.

“Okay, last TWICE question — who’s your bias?”

Her heart skipped. She leaned in.

There was a teasing pause. Then: “It was Jihyo… but due to some recent developments, I think it’s Momo now.”

Jihyo blinked. Her jaw dropped.

What.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered aloud as she shut the car off. “He’s getting punished.”

Still fuming — though secretly flattered — she adjusted her jacket and strutted toward the spa, already plotting exactly how she’d “correct” his bias in the very near future.

Steam curled lazily in the cedar-scented air as Jihyo stepped through the glass doors of the private bathhouse. The faint hum of conversation, mixed with the soft bubbling of hot water, wrapped around her like a warm towel. She spotted Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon already soaking in the water, drinks on the nearby ledge, their hair tied up in matching towels like tiny crowns of mischief.

“Hey!” Jeongyeon called, waving her hand as she leaned back. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

Chaeyoung smirked, her cheeks already pink from the heat. “You’re late. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

Jihyo chuckled and slid out of her robe, stepping into the bath with a contented sigh. “I got caught in traffic.”

“That’s what you’re calling it now?” Jeongyeon teased. “Traffic?”

Before Jihyo could shoot back a retort, a familiar voice drifted from the Bluetooth speaker resting on the edge of the tub.

“…and our guest today is none other than Theseus of Malevolence, currently on tour and somehow still managing to look like he crawled out of the underworld in style.”

Jihyo stiffened slightly, but kept her expression cool. Chaeyoung caught the shift instantly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention—we’ve been listening to the interview while we waited,” Chaeyoung said, grinning. “I can turn it off if you want,”

Jihyo shook her head and said, “No he sounds nice and his voice is surprisingly soothing,”

Chaeyoung turned to her leader surprised and said, “didn’t even know you listened to this guy until now.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes and said, “no his voice is just calming.

Jeongyeon leaned in, her tone teasing but curious. “You do know he’s kind of a big deal, right? Like… underground god of metal and chaos? Total demon hunter fantasy fuel?”

Jihyo scoffed. “Okay and?.”

“Please,” Chaeyoung said with a knowing smirk. “ you expect us to believe that you aren’t into the whole bad boy from America thing?”

Jihyo rolled her eyes but kept her poker face. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Mmhmm,” Jeongyeon hummed. “So how did that demon hunt go, anyway? You ran off so suddenly.”

Jihyo reached for her tea, taking a slow sip to buy herself time.

“It got messy,” she said, finally. “Turned out to be stronger than intel suggested. I had to call in backup.”

Chaeyoung raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Jihyo continued smoothly. “Got help from this American hunter. Real heavy-hitter type. Kind of a lone wolf but good in a fight.”

Jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “Name?”

Jihyo pretended to think. “I think he just goes by ‘Dio.’” She forced herself not to smile at her own audacity. “Real quiet, didn’t talk much, but he knew how to handle himself.”

Chaeyoung blinked. Then blinked again. “Wait… Dio? Like Jojo’s?”

Jihyo shrugged, giving them the perfect blend of mystery and misdirection. “I doubt it. Common enough name, right?”

Before they could press further, the interview picked up again.

“Okay, last TWICE question,” said the host on the speaker. “Who’s your bias?”

Jihyo braced.

“It was Jihyo,” Theseus’s voice drawled, “but due to some recent developments… I think it’s Momo now.”

Chaeyoung snorted. “Wow. Ruthless.”

Jihyo’s expression didn’t flinch, but the heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with the bathwater. “He’s got jokes,” she said coolly. “Probably just trying to bait clicks.”

Jeongyeon gave her a sideways look. “You okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Jihyo said with a sweet, dangerous smile. “I’ll just have to return the favor next time I see him.”

Chaeyoung laughed. “Damn. Remind me not to cross you.”

Jihyo leaned back, letting her head rest against the tiled edge, her eyes closing for a brief moment as steam kissed her face.

So far so good, she thought. But if they find that hoodie in my laundry, I’m screwed.

A gentle splash echoed through the bathhouse as Chaeyoung stretched out her arms with a groan of bliss. “Ugh, this is heaven. My shoulders feel like they’ve finally forgiven me.”

“I swear,” Jeongyeon added, adjusting the cold towel on her forehead, “every time we do this, I realize how desperately I need it. And how much I hate cardio.”

“You hate everything that isn’t bubble tea and sleep,” Chaeyoung quipped.

“Fair.”

Jihyo let their voices drift around her like steam. Her fingers idly trailed the water’s surface, her expression contemplative behind the relaxed posture.

“So,” Jeongyeon began again, cocking a brow toward Jihyo, “what’s your mysterious American hunter look like, anyway? Asking for, y’know… purely professional curiosity.”

Jihyo’s lips twitched. “Tall. Sharp jaw. Tattooed. Quiet type with that whole ‘don’t ask what I’ve seen’ look.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, like your exact type.”

Jeongyeon sipped her infused water with dramatic judgment. “And let me guess… muscles like sin and eyes like regret?”

“Something like that,” Jihyo said with maddening calm.

“Mmhmm.” Chaeyoung gave her a long look. “You know if you weren’t already the most dangerous one here, I’d be scared of you.”

“Still scared,” Jeongyeon muttered under her breath.

Jihyo tilted her head back against the tiles, her voice light. “You two really want to know what happened?”

Their eyes lit up in unison.

She opened one eye, smirked, and said, “Let’s just say… he owes me an outfit.”

The silence broke into chaotic splashing as Chaeyoung shrieked, “Jihyo!” and Jeongyeon practically choked on her drink.

“No! No way—you didn’t!”

“I’m not saying what happened,” Jihyo said innocently, “just that clothes were lost and now I’m owed one.”

Chaeyoung was blushing so hard she might have boiled the water around her. “You are so not allowed to keep that to yourself.”

Jeongyeon groaned, laughing despite herself. “This better not end up in a tabloid. Or worse, the demon registry.”

Jihyo shrugged, eyes gleaming. “It won’t he’s still human after all . Technically.”

“Technically sounds like trouble,” Chaeyoung warned.

“Yeah he is and Trouble owes me a jacket,” Jihyo replied.

Then, as the interview on the speaker wound down, her mind drifted back to Theseus’s voice — that teasing lilt, the way he said Momo with a smirk she could hear.

Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a promise. “Anyway, I’ve got plans for him.”

“Oh no,” Jeongyeon murmured, half-laughing, half-concerned. “What kind of plans?”

Jihyo stood, water cascading down her skin like silver. “The kind that makes you regret teasing the leader of Twice.”

Chaeyoung put a hand to her chest dramatically. “Please don’t kill him.”

Jihyo grabbed her towel and smiled sweetly. “Of course not. I’m just going to remind him who his real bias is.”

Later that evening, after the laughter, the warmth, and the scent of eucalyptus faded from her skin, Jihyo found herself standing in front of her vanity mirror, bathed in the soft amber glow of her apartment’s bathroom light.

Her fingers moved mechanically—dabbing cream under her eyes, brushing through the ends of her damp hair—but her mind wasn’t in the room. It was still spinning from everything.

From him.

Theseus.

From the weight of the night before.

From the heat that hadn’t fully left her body.

She leaned forward, inspecting her reflection, but froze.

For the briefest moment—less than a blink—her eyes weren’t brown.

They were violet.

Deep, unearthly. Crackling faintly with inner fire. Like twin smoldering coals in a perfect face.

Jihyo’s breath caught. “…No.”

She blinked rapidly. Brown again.

She held her breath and waited—there. The violet shimmer returned at the edges of her irises, creeping in like ink dropped in water. Unnatural. Hungry.

As she stared, the air around her seemed to ripple. The steam in the mirror thickened and distorted. Somewhere in the corners of the room, a low crackle of heat murmured—and then with a sudden fwoom—a small arc of violet flame licked up from the edge of the candle she hadn’t lit.

She turned sharply.

Another wisp of fire bloomed at the corner of the room, tiny, dancing, and then vanished as if embarrassed to be caught.

Jihyo backed away from the mirror, heart racing, but her blood wasn’t chilled—it was boiling. Her skin felt too tight, like there was something just under it, trying to claw its way to the surface.

“What the hell…” she whispered, her voice slightly layered now—like someone had added a second, softer version of herself underneath.

She gripped the sink, her nails biting into the porcelain. Her mind tried to rationalize it, but something primal in her spine already knew.

It wasn’t a one-time flare-up. It wasn’t going away.

Theseus had triggered something. Not just desire. Not just power.

Recognition.

A part of her—buried deep—had stirred.

And now it wanted out.

She looked back into the mirror. This time, her reflection didn’t copy her. Not right away.

It smirked first.

Violet eyes blazing, lips curling in wicked delight.

Then, only then, did it match her expression of dread.

Jihyo stepped back and hissed under her breath, “No. Not yet. I’m still in control.”

But the fire, even if only in flickers, said otherwise.

Despite her body practically screaming for her to go see Theseus, Jihyo made a different choice. She stayed with Momo.

A small, smug smile crept onto her face at the thought—spending time with his bias while he’s busy? A little petty, maybe. But satisfying.

As always, food was involved. Momo had suggested a quiet Korean BBQ spot just outside the city. The place was cozy, slightly worn, and always smelled like sizzling meat and garlic. Just how they liked it.

They were elbow-deep in lettuce wraps and perfectly charred bulgogi when Momo leaned forward, chewing thoughtfully.

“So,” she mumbled through a bite, “how’d that last hunt go?”

Jihyo swallowed, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Tough one. But I had help—American hunter, kind of a weirdo.”

Momo snorted. “Let me guess. Asked for a lock of your hair or tried to lick your boots like that one creepy lady in Louisiana?”

Jihyo’s eyes widened and she waved her hands, laughing. “No, no! Nothing like that. He was actually… pretty normal. Just awkward. Kind of shy.”

“Oh good,” Momo said, exhaling with relief. “I didn’t want to have to fight him.”

Jihyo grinned slyly. “Please. He’s more likely to run from a fight than start one.”

Momo paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. He took the demon out with his revolver, all efficient and no drama. Clean shot to the head. Then he just kind of… nodded and left.”

Momo blinked. “Huh. That’s actually kind of impressive.”

“Right?” Jihyo said with a shrug, feigning casualness while hiding the memory of violet eyes and the lingering heat in her skin.

Momo popped another bite into her mouth and said around it, “Still sounds like a nerd.”

Jihyo laughed, but her gaze drifted to the glowing grill between them. As the meat hissed and popped, she thought—not for the first time—about just how not normal that American hunter really was.

But for now, she’d let it lie.

Let the fire rest. It didn’t last long though.

The moment Jihyo stepped through her apartment door, she slammed it shut behind her and pressed her back to it. Her heart was thundering. Her skin—glowing. Not literally. Not yet.

But it was close.

Heat pooled in her chest, curling through her veins like molten metal. Her breath came shallow. Her fingers trembled as she pulled off her boots, barely making it down the hall before yanking off her jacket and tossing it to the floor.

She passed a mirror and caught sight of herself.

Her eyes were flickering again—deep violet flames pulsing in and out like they were syncing with her heartbeat. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted, strands of hair clinging to her temples from a light sweat.

She looked… wild.

She felt feral.

Something inside her was howling.

The meal with Momo hadn’t helped. It had only reminded her of the growing ache—this need—coiling tighter every time she thought of him.

Theseus.

The way he touched her. The way he kissed her like she was something dangerous—and holy—and his.

And gods, the way her demon side responded to him.

No one had ever brought it out of her like that. Not even close.

She stormed into her bedroom and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, fingers already pulling out her phone. She opened Instagram—she didn’t even hesitate—tapping through to Theseus’s page.

The most recent photo was from earlier that day: a shot of him at the radio show, innocent and happy, face half-turned to the camera, flexing without meaning to. She almost growled.

Jihyo didn’t comment.

She hit Message.

And then she typed, her fingers fast, sharp.

[jihyo] Get over here. Now. I don’t care what you’re doing. If I don’t feel your mouth on me in 20 minutes I’m burning this building down.

She stared at the message for half a second.

Then she hit Send.

The instant she did, she felt the heat spike—like her body approved of the choice.

Her room dimmed as the air shimmered with low, supernatural heat. The violet in her eyes returned, brighter now. Hungry.

She stood up, pacing, hands running through her hair, teeth biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked down.

[Theseus] …You okay?

She rolled her eyes, scowling.

[jihyo] No. I’m on fire. And you’re the only one who knows how to put it out.

Three dots blinked. Then stopped.

Then blinked again.

Finally:

[Theseus] On my way. Don’t combust without me.

She exhaled slowly, dropping the phone to the bed.

The flames around her body dimmed. Not gone. Not cooled. Just… waiting.

Waiting for him.

Fifteen minutes after she’d summoned him, Theseus stood at Jihyo’s door—sweat already beading on his brow.

The moment he stepped inside, it hit him: heat. Dense. Radiant. Almost alive. The air shimmered with it, thick and charged, like a furnace wrapped in silk. His breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t just hot—it was otherworldly.

The closer he got to her bedroom, the stronger it grew. His steps slowed. He felt it in his bones—something ancient and wild pulsing behind that door.

He pushed it open.

And froze.

Jihyo was waiting, perched at the edge of her bed like a queen on a pyre. Indigo and rose-gold flames crackled in a perfect circle around the mattress, casting dancing shadows across her bare shoulders and glowing skin. Her demon marks shimmered across her body in slow, hypnotic patterns—alive and moving. Her irises were pure violet, radiant and alien. Her pupils blown wide, devouring him.

She smiled like sin wrapped in silk.

“My slayer arrives… right on time,” she purred.

Theseus felt his pulse spike. Lust. Awe. A very real sense of danger. This wasn’t the Jihyo from the spa, or even the one from last night. This was her unbound.

She rose with slow, deliberate grace. Her hips swayed. Her feet left trails of flame on the floor—blazing pink and violet fire that burned nothing, only sizzled with promise. The air warped behind her.

He barely noticed her hand on his chest until she stopped, eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t appreciate your little joke today,” she said, voice low and teasing—but with a warning edge.

Theseus blinked. “Joke?”

She pouted slightly, then said, “I am your bias. Not Momo.”

Ah.

He sighed, finally catching up. “It was just a tease—”

“Hmm,” Jihyo hummed, tilting her head. “You still need to be punished.”

Before he could speak, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a deep, greedy kiss. Her lips crashed against his like a storm. Her fingers raked down his sides, tugging him closer. Flames flared around them, rising with every second.

Then, without warning, she pushed him backward onto the bed.

The fire-ring parted just enough to let him fall.

She climbed over him, eyes gleaming with hunger and heat, hair cascading around her shoulders like shadow and wildfire.

“You’re mine tonight,” she growled, her voice layered—human and demonic in harmony—as the flames pulsed around them, sealing them in.

And the bed didn’t burn.

But everything else would.

Jihyo’s lips crashed into Theseus’s again, deeper this time, hungrier. Her weight pressed into him as her hands explored, not with hesitation, but with ownership. Each kiss melted into the next, and with every second, the air grew thicker—not just from heat, but from something ancient uncoiling inside her. She rapaciously undressed herself while demanding Theseus remove his clothes.

The flames circling the bed flared outward in rhythm with her breath—no longer sharp and wild, but warm and worshipful, like they now danced for her.

Theseus barely noticed the shift at first—he was too wrapped in her mouth, in her scent, in the way her body moved against his like music only they could hear. But then he felt it.

The pulse.

A power blooming beneath her skin.

Her back arched above him, and her body trembled—not with fear, but with liberation. As if something she’d locked away her whole life had finally been set loose. Her moans carried a new harmony—layered, resonant, almost songlike. Her marks blazed to life in full, curling across her shoulders, ribs, thighs in glowing violet calligraphy. Her eyes shone brighter, not just violet now, but flecked with molten gold. She stared down at him before mounting him. Her body claiming what was rightfully hers.

With possessive violet eyes Jihyo stared at Theseus. Her gaze was both vulnerable and sultry

“Jihyo,” Theseus whispered, breathless, hands on her waist. “You’re…”

“Free,” she said, her voice a soft echo, like it came from both her and some great fire behind her. She leaned down, forehead against his. “With you… I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to hold it back.”

The flames that had roared earlier now kissed the air gently, like firelight at a temple. They caressed Theseus’s skin, not to scorch—but to bless. No pain. Just heat. Desire. Intimacy.

She kissed him again—slower this time. Her tongue traced his lip, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she pulled back, her irises were burning stars.

“I’ve spent so long pretending I was normal,” she said, voice trembling with truth. “Even with Chaeyoung. Even with Jeongyeon. But this part of me… it’s always been waiting. And now—now I don’t want to hide.”

“You don’t have to,” Theseus murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not from me.”

A breath caught in her throat.

Then she kissed him again, and this time it was all of her—woman and demon, softness and fire, fury and tenderness. She rode him with reverence and hunger, not as a demon out of control—but as a goddess claiming her offering.

And all the while, the flames curled around them like a veil.

A sanctuary.

Where no one else existed but the two of them, and the truth they no longer needed to deny. After an hour the heat within melted her desire into pure lust. She got on all fours and presented her swollen sopping pussy to Theseus.

“Fucking take it. Fuck me like you mean it!”

Theseus relaxed then plunged deep inside of her pussy. Jihyo moaned as he pulled out about halfway before thrusting back into her hard and deep.

“Fuck!” Jihyo groaned as Theseus continued his assault on her body. He put his left hand on her left hip and his right on her right shoulder to steady himself before sending another deep powerful thrust. Jihyo clawed at the sheets as Theseus railed her. Her flames rising and falling with each thrust until she came. Her peak was fierce and fiery as you’d imagine.

Her pussy locked around Theseus cock with an almost death like grip. Jihyo moaned and said, “fucking cum! Cum right now! I need it,” she yelled/growled.

Theseus ever the people pleaser complied. He painted her womb white as he spilled inside of her Jihyo purred as her flames died down. She was satiated for now.

The couple passed out shortly after exhausted by the endeavor.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of Jihyo’s bedroom, casting a soft golden hue over the room. The flames were gone now, replaced by the smell of warm skin and the weight of silence between breaths.

Theseus lay back on the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other gently resting on Jihyo’s bare back as she drew idle shapes on his chest with her fingers. The heat between them had cooled into something gentler—an intimacy no less intense, but now quieter.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, voice still rough with sleep.

Jihyo nodded but didn’t lift her head. “Better than I have in weeks.”

A pause.

Then, softer, “Can I ask you something?”

Theseus shifted slightly. “Course.”

Jihyo inhaled. “Do you ever… feel like the weight of everything caught up to you too fast? Like we started hunting so early, and now everyone looks at us like we’re these untouchable veterans, but I don’t know. Sometimes I see my friends—Chaeyoung, Nayeon, even Mina—catching up and doing amazing, and I just… wonder if I got here too early. If I missed something.”

Her voice broke a little at the end, and she turned her face slightly, ashamed.

Theseus didn’t speak immediately. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair away from her cheek, then tilted her chin up so their eyes met.

“Maybe they’re great now,” he said gently, “because of you. Maybe your leadership gave them the space to grow without burning out.”

Jihyo’s eyes shimmered.

And before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around his torso and buried her face in his neck. “You jerk,” she mumbled, voice thick with tears. “That’s—too sweet…”

He held her, rubbing small circles into her back. “You’re allowed to feel it, Jihyo. You don’t have to carry all of it alone anymore.”

They stayed like that for a while, her clinging to him, his arms wrapped securely around her, until she sniffled and leaned back with a small smile.

“When did you start hunting?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

He smirked. “Started training when I was ten.”

Her eyes widened. “Ten? That’s when I started too. Wait—how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” he said casually.

Jihyo blinked.

She smacked his chest with mock offense. “Ya! That makes me your noona! I started a year before you!”

He chuckled. “Guess I’m at your mercy then.”

“You already were,” she teased, but her smile turned a little shy, a little soft. “You’re seriously amazing though… and I’m glad I’m not the only one who started young.”

Theseus tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re all a little scarred, Jihyo. But you? You turned yours into strength. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Jihyo leaned in and kissed him—not passionately this time, but deeply, tenderly.

“I won’t,” she said. “Not with you around.”

After that, Jihyo smiled and got up, practically prancing across the room with a light bounce in her step. She was radiant, humming to herself as she picked up a hair tie and tossed her hair into a loose ponytail.

Theseus followed a few seconds later, still groggy and dragging his feet like someone who hadn’t fully returned to the waking world. He squinted at the sunlight streaming in from the window.

“So,” Jihyo called over her shoulder, “when’s your show again?”

“Tomorrow night,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Perfect,” she replied breezily. “I’m bringing Momo with me.”

“Of course you are,” he chuckled.

She nodded to herself, then added more casually, “When do you leave Korea?”

“The day after the show.”

“Good.” Jihyo turned, grinning from ear to ear. “Then we’ve got plenty of time to talk about you moving in with me!”

Theseus blinked. “What makes you think I want to move in with you?”

Jihyo smirked and gave him a slow, teasing look. “Because you’re mine now. And besides, I’ve still got things to finish here. But after that, we can live wherever we want.”

“Anywhere but Australia,” Theseus muttered.

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“I’ve seen the animals there. Giant spiders. 2 out of the three deadliest Snakes. Kangaroos that box. No thanks.”

Jihyo burst out laughing. “Mr. Slayer is scared of Aussie wildlife? Wow. Okay then—no Australia, you big baby.”

“Cool,” Theseus said, smirking. But his expression softened a little as he added, “Are you sure you want me though? I’m a relentless playboy. A flirt. Kind of a menace, honestly.”

Jihyo laughed—a full, delighted sound that filled the room. “I’ve seen your interviews. You’re a sweetheart. All that music, all the demon-slaying, and you’re still basically a textbook teddy bear boyfriend.”

Theseus squinted at her, defensive. “Just because I believe girls I like should be treated right doesn’t mean I’m a teddy bear.”

“Oh, it definitely does,” she teased, stepping in and wrapping her arms around him in a warm, tight hug. “And don’t worry—I like my plushy, soft, protective teddy bear boyfriend.”

Theseus let out a groan, but he melted into the hug anyway, arms sliding around her waist.

“Fine,” he muttered against her shoulder. “But I draw the line at matching pajamas.”

Jihyo grinned. “We’ll see.”

They lounged together for a while, basking in the morning calm before Theseus—despite his protests—got up to cook.

Jihyo watched from the counter, chin in hand, grinning like a cat who got the cream. “You really gonna cook for me right now? Just leaning into the teddy bear boyfriend role, huh?”

“Do you want to eat or not?” Theseus grumbled, cracking eggs with practiced ease.

“I mean, I’ll eat,” she said sweetly, “but I reserve the right to tease you relentlessly while you do it.”

And she did—commenting on everything from the way he sliced fruit to how he concentrated when flipping the pastries. But the moment she took the first bite, everything changed.

Jihyo let out a muffled squeal as she chewed, eyes going wide in delight. “Mmmf—wait. This is really good.”

Theseus raised an eyebrow. “Did you just make a sound that wasn’t a laugh or a command?”

She swallowed, eyes sparkling. “Wow. I didn’t know your face could do anything besides scowl when food’s involved.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make your eggs disappear.”

Jihyo laughed. “No no no—praise first. The pastry’s a little sweet, but the rest? Perfect.”

Theseus smirked as he poured himself some tea. “Glad I could impress Her Highness.”

Before she could reply, a sudden knock echoed through the apartment. Theseus looked toward the door, frowning.

“Expecting someone?” he asked.

“Nope,” Jihyo said, still chewing.

Theseus walked over cautiously, peered through the peephole—then blinked.

He turned back to her, deadpan. “Uh, Yo-yo? Not to alarm you or anything, but there’s a giant blue tiger at your door.”

Jihyo’s brow lifted. “Big orange eyes? Slightly crossed? Looks like it’s trying to intimidate the door frame?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Jihyo smiled brightly. “Oh, that’s Rumi. And her boys. You can let them in, Teddy.”

Theseus narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He sighed, scowling as he opened the door.

Standing there was the massive blue tiger, staring at him with mild confusion—and behind it, a tall woman with dark red hair and a relaxed but unmistakably commanding presence.

Rumi, the leader of Huntrix, gave him a once-over and smiled coolly. “Morning. Smells good in here.”

She stepped in like she owned the place.

Theseus shut the door behind her, muttering, “Why does everyone in this country just waltz in like they pay rent…”

Jihyo, already halfway through her breakfast, grinned. “Because they’re family, Teddy.”

Rumi strode in with feline grace, her boots making almost no sound despite the weight of her presence. The blue tiger—twice the size of a lion and still somehow not threatening but endearing—slunk in behind her and promptly curled up by the window like it owned the place. a small bird perched above it's head with a tiny hat.

Jihyo didn’t flinch. She just took another bite of her breakfast and raised her brows. “To what do I owe the royal visit?”

Rumi smirked. “Heard some interesting things through the grapevine. Something about Twice's leader summoning a male slayer through Instagram like a thirsty demon in heat.”

Theseus, halfway through pouring himself more tea, choked.

Jihyo gave Rumi a withering glare. “Please tell me you didn’t get that from Chaeyoung.”

“Jeongyeon, actually,” Rumi said, sinking gracefully onto the arm of the couch. “Chaeyoung just screamed into a pillow when she found out.”

“I told them I had backup from an American hunter,” Jihyo muttered, stabbing a slice of fruit with her fork.

Rumi’s eyes flicked over to Theseus, who stood off to the side with quiet wariness—shirt half-untucked, hair still sleep-mussed. She studied him the way a queen studies a knight who might one day marry her general. Or try to kill her.

“So you’re the Slayer,” she said casually, swirling the words like wine in her mouth. “Not bad looking. Taller than I thought.”

Theseus blinked. “Thanks… I think ?”

Jihyo leaned toward Rumi. “Please don’t interrogate him.”

“I would never,” Rumi said with a grin. Then to Theseus, “But if I were going to, I’d probably ask what your intentions are with our dear Jihyo. Seeing as she’s glowing and floating around her apartment like she’s been possessed.”

Jihyo groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Unnie, please.”

Theseus, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He met Rumi’s gaze head-on. “I don’t have an agenda. But I respect her strength. She is a bit…more than I expected.”

Rumi gave a thoughtful nod, clearly enjoying herself. “That’s fair. And you’re not too much of a coward—considering you opened the door for a tiger with crossed eyes.”

“I was told to,” Theseus said dryly, shooting Jihyo a glance.

“She does have that effect,” Rumi mused.

Jihyo finally sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “Okay. You’ve sized him up, you’ve teased me, you’ve let your giant cat take over the sunniest part of my apartment. Is there anything important you came here for?”

Rumi shrugged. “Just wanted to see you with my own eyes. You’ve been different lately.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

Rumi gave a small, real smile. “Happier. more fiery, but also sweeter, i don't know. Softer I guess. Like you finally put the armor down.”

Jihyo blinked. That hit harder than she expected.

Rumi stood and ruffled Jihyo’s hair as she walked by. “I like it. Don’t lose your edge—but don’t be afraid to let someone hold your blade for a while either.”

Theseus laughed before saying, "Funny thing is I don't really do swords. I more of a mace/ club guy."

Rumi couldn't have rolled her eyes harder.

She paused at the door, then glanced back at Theseus. “You hurt her, I won’t send the tiger. I’ll come myself.”

“Fair,” Theseus said without hesitation.

Rumi gave a wink. “Smart boy.”

She snapped her fingers once, and the tiger heaved itself up, stretched luxuriously, and padded after her with a lazy swish of its tail. It approached Theseus with a cautious gaze before butting itself into his body. Smiling and purring as Theseus pet him before the giant cat left with Rumi by phasing through the door

As the door closed behind them, Theseus exhaled slowly. “Is it always like that with her?”

Jihyo smirked. “She’s actually being nice today.”

Theseus blinked. “That was nice?”

Jihyo chuckled, got up from her chair, and draped her arms around his shoulders. “Relax, Teddy. You passed.”

He glanced at the door, then at her. “Barely.”

“But you did,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “And that’s all that matters.”

201 notes · View notes

waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

The Wife ft. Chaeyoung

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FULL CHAPTERS HERE

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Bedroom lights glowed dim gold, softening the edges of everything but the truth.

Chaeyoung’s knees sank into the memory foam between his thighs. Her ponytail brushed his belly as her small hands braced his hips. Jihun groaned, breath catching when her lips sealed around the head of his cock—soft, teasing pressure at first, then deeper, wetter, purposeful.

He arched slightly, eyes half-lidded. “Fuck, baby… that tongue.”

Her eyes flicked up, playful. “You missed this?”

“You have no idea.”

She bobbed slow, then fast, sucking with shallow grace. Saliva warmed the base of his shaft. The tight hollow of her cheeks made every stroke obscene.

Jihun’s hands threaded into her hair. “You’re so fucking good at this,” he breathed.

She gave a light hum, vibrating around him. Then pulled back with a soft pop. “You get hard just thinking about my mouth, huh?”

“Every time,” he groaned.

She climbed over him next, straddling his stomach, her petite frame naked and flushed. Her breasts were small—tight and firm with dusky nipples that stiffened in the bedroom air.

“Show me how much,” she whispered, dragging her slick core along his length.

Jihun’s hands gripped her thighs. “God, you’re soaked.”

She grinned. “Your fault.”

Then she leaned forward, guiding him inside her inch by inch until he filled her.

“Fuck,” she moaned, hips circling. “That stretch...”

Reverse cowgirl. Her favorite.

Jihun grinned. “You want control tonight, huh?”

“You mind?” she teased, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

“Not one bit.”

She rode him slow at first, rocking her tight ass against his groin, her muscles gripping him in pulsing waves.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that. Fuck, Chaeyoung...”

Her rhythm deepened, pace steady. “You gonna come already?”

“Getting close,” he admitted, voice ragged.

“Then flip me. Let me feel you deeper.”

He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her waist, rolled them easily, and pulled her onto all fours.

“Doggy it is,” he growled.

She arched her back, ass high, slick and ready. “Come make me beg.”

Jihun slid into her with a groan, buried to the hilt. Her body took him easily, dripping wet and clenched tight.

He thrust deep, fast, every slap of their bodies louder than the last. His fingers dug into her hips, grounding him.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he gasped.

“Harder,” she panted. “Don’t hold back.”

He obeyed, slamming into her with everything he had. Her moans filled the room, high and breathy, urging him on.

“Shit, Chaeyoung, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” she begged. “Come inside me. I want all of it.”

He groaned loud, thrust once more, and spilled into her, body convulsing. He collapsed forward, breath heavy, sweat trailing from his chest to her back.

She stayed there a moment, smiling, then gently pulled away, his cum spilling down her thighs.

Chaeyoung padded into the bathroom, humming softly. The faucet ran, a drawer opened, lotion clicked shut.

She returned with a towel, cleaned him with gentle care. Her kiss was soft. Her fingers ran down his chest.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, half-asleep.

She smiled again. “Get some rest.”

She stood over him for a moment, still naked, hair now messy and clinging to her cheek. Her fingers hovered near the nightstand—where pens and scissors lay in a cup beside the lamp. She stared.

Her hand moved slowly, lifting a pen, its tip gleaming faintly in the low light. She held it inches from his sleeping face, close enough that his breath fogged the plastic.

Her fingers trembled.

She stared at his closed eyes. “Not yet,” she whispered, barely audible.

She turned, padded out of the room.

He exhaled slow.

She didn’t hear the rustle under the blanket. Didn’t see his eyes open.

He waited a full minute after the door clicked shut.

His breath slowed. Eyes wide now. Awake, every nerve alert. The room still smelled of her—sweat, sex, the subtle vanilla in her hair—but something under it smelled wrong. Like heat without warmth. Like danger wrapped in silk.

Jihun sat up, slow and silent. The sheets were still warm where she’d tucked him in.

He replayed it: the way she stood at the nightstand. The way her hand hovered over the pen. Not random. Not distracted. Something deliberate—and then restrained. Not love. Not care. Something colder.

He swung his legs off the bed, bare feet pressing to the hardwood floor. It creaked once beneath his heel. He froze. Waited. Nothing.

The hallway was dark, save for the faint spill of moonlight from the living room. No sound of her. No clicks from the bathroom. No water running.

She was gone.

His fingers brushed the top of the dresser until he found his phone. 1:48 AM.

He slipped a hoodie on, skipped the boxers, just tugged sweatpants over his bare skin. No noise. Just the quiet pull of fabric and the dull pound of his pulse.

He cracked the bedroom door wider.

The pen was still in the cup by the lamp. No knife. No weapon. But his gut wouldn’t let go of the image—her knuckles tight, her gaze blank, her body stiff with something unspoken.

The front door stood half open. A breeze moved the paper taped beside it. Her shoes were gone.

Jihun inhaled.

Then stepped out. The hallway’s air felt colder now, as if it knew what the night would reveal.

Jihun eased the door shut behind him, slipping down the apartment stairs barefoot in his sweats. Outside, the street lay quiet under a bruised sky, amber from the flicker of a lone streetlight.

Then he saw it—her silhouette gliding across the sidewalk, fast, decisive.

He followed.

Her stride was too clean, too purposeful. Not someone walking off tension. Someone with a destination. She didn’t look back. Her small frame vanished around a corner.

Jihun closed the distance, heart hammering, air sharp in his lungs. Asphalt cold under his soles.

Then—screech of rubber. A taxi pulled up.

She got in.

“Fuck,” he muttered and raised a hand. Another cab crawled up moments later, driver looking bored.

“Follow that one,” he said, climbing in. “Don’t lose it.”

The driver glanced at him, then nodded, curiosity swallowed by the night.

The ride was a blur of shifting streetlamps and humming tires. Jihun sat forward, tracking her cab ahead like prey.

They stopped near an industrial lot—low buildings, old neon signs long dead. She stepped out.

Two men waited near a side door. Big guys, tall and wide, one with a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, the other bald and broad across the jaw.

“Boss,” one called.

She nodded. Said nothing.

Jihun ducked low in the seat. “What the fuck…”

His wife. Petite, careful, quiet Chaeyoung—being greeted like someone dangerous.

He cracked the door open, stepped out onto the gravel. Stayed low, crouched behind a rusted SUV.

Then a twig snapped.

Too loud.

One of the men turned. “You hear that?”

Shit.

Jihun took a step back. Another. Then sprinted.

Heavy boots hit gravel behind him. A shout. Then pounding footsteps. He ran hard, turned fast around a wall.

Arms wrapped around him mid-stride.

“Got him!”

A sting in his neck—sharp, cold.

The world tilted. His legs folded. The night stretched into black.

He blinked.

White ceiling. Morning light.

The bed. His bed.

Sheets rumpled, body bare. His skin still carried the faint scent of her. Dried sweat clung to his chest. The blanket was pulled halfway down, his arms sprawled wide, exposed to the morning.

No clothes. His phone sat untouched on the nightstand. No missed calls. No messages.

He sat up slowly. Mouth dry. Skin clammy.

Had it happened?

He stared at his hands. They didn’t shake, but his heart pounded like it hadn’t stopped all night.

“Jihun?”

Her voice floated in from the kitchen—light, sweet, sing-song.

“Come on, babe. Breakfast’s getting cold.”

The scent of eggs and soy sauce pulled him down the hall, but something else burned behind his eyes—a pressure, a heat, a warning.

Jihun stepped into the kitchen barefoot. Morning light streamed through the gauzy curtains, catching on dust motes and glinting off steel. Chaeyoung stood at the stove, barefoot too, wearing one of his old button-downs. It was half-buttoned, barely skimming her hips. No bra. No panties. Her ass peeked through with every shift of her weight, and her bare legs shimmered in the light.

She turned with a plate in hand, smiling like sunshine. “You look pale. Sit.”

He stared at her, the plate, the eggs.

She raised an eyebrow. “I said sit, baby.”

He sat. The chair felt too solid. The air too still. Something inside him wasn’t right—no tension in his groin, no morning stiffness. Just a hollow weight. Cold.

She leaned in, setting the plate down. Her breasts brushed his cheek, soft and warm and bare beneath the fabric.

“You’re quiet,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “I followed you last night.”

She paused. Not long. Just a fraction. Then laughed—light, airy. “Oh no, baby. Not again.”

“There were two huge guys. They called you boss.”

She tilted her head, eyes amused. “You really didn’t take your pill, did you?”

“I never forget my meds,” he said. “Not once. Since college. I don’t hallucinate.”

She came closer, straddled him on the chair. Her thighs hugged his hips. Her shirt slipped open more, nipples dark against pale skin.

“You told me you do,” she murmured, sliding her hand down into his lap. “First month we dated.”

He twitched under her touch, but nothing stirred. He looked down. Still soft.

She frowned, then smiled again—sweet, reassuring, deadly. “Aw. That’s what stress does to you.”

“I’m not stressed,” he said. “I’m confused.”

“Then let me help.”

She kissed his neck, her hand stroking him slowly, coaxing life back into him. Her breath tickled his ear.

“Just let it go, baby. You’re safe. You’re home.”

He closed his eyes. Her touch was relentless—light at first, then firmer, confident. Her fingers curled just right. His cock responded, heavy and slow, but real. She leaned down, letting one nipple brush his lips.

“You like my tits?” she whispered.

He nodded, mouth warm against her skin.

She lifted his face with both hands, kissed him deep. Then stood, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward the dining table.

“I want you to eat me out like you mean it,” she said, voice low and charged. “Sit. Mouth first.”

He obeyed. She climbed onto the edge of the table, opened her legs wide. The shirt hung off one shoulder. She guided his face between her thighs.

She was wet already—dripping, needy. His tongue slipped between her folds, tasting the salt and slick of her. She moaned, fingers in his hair, hips grinding against his mouth.

“That’s it,” she breathed. “Suck my clit. Right there—yes.”

He obeyed, lips locked around her, tongue flicking fast. Her thighs tightened around his head, her voice rising.

“You always made me come quick,” she gasped. “Still do.”

She trembled, moaned, then came hard against his face, thighs quivering. She held him there through it, shivering.

Then she pulled back, panting, eyes glassy. “Now sit back. I’m going to fuck you.”

She straddled him again, one hand guiding his cock to her soaked slit. No hesitation. She slid down with a long moan.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Still fits perfect.”

She rode him hard. Fast. Her pussy clenched around him with every bounce. His hands found her hips, her ass, gripping her as she slammed down over and over.

“Say it,” she demanded. “Say you love me.”

“I love you,” he groaned.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Then come in me. Right now.”

He couldn’t hold it. His body bucked, cock pulsing as he came deep inside her. She moaned, shuddered, clung to him.

They sat there after, tangled, sweat-slick.

She kissed his forehead.

“I’m heading out,” she said sweetly, standing and reaching for a napkin. She wiped herself casually, like it was any other morning.

“And Jihun?” She smiled over her shoulder. “The pen, the taxi, the boss—that was just a dream.”

She left.

He sat there, pants open, chest rising and falling.

Then leaned down to reach for his slippers beneath the table.

There it was.

The pen.

The exact one from last night. Same color. Same bite mark on the cap.

His breath hitched.

He never mentioned the pen.

**to be continued**

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

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Daddy's Forbidden Affairs Part 2 (Momo)

Momo had always maintained a relationship with her father. However, due to the pandemic, she hadn’t returned to her hometown for nearly two years. Finally, after completing her schedule in Japan, Momo returned home, and the pent-up desire between her and her father could no longer be contained. They planned to indulge in their forbidden passion during the short holiday.

"It's been so long, Momo-chan~" As soon as Momo opened the door, her father enveloped her in a tight embrace. Momo let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Mmm... Daddy... I missed you so much..." Momo tilted her head up, her pink lips brushing against her father’s chin, her slender fingers slipping into his pajama pants to gently grasp his already eager erection. "I missed you too, Momo-chan..." Momo’s father sucked on her flushed lips, his large hands kneading her soft breasts through her uniform. "Two years apart, and my precious daughter has grown even more... These breasts are so soft..." "Hmph... Stop teasing..." Momo giggled coyly, dodging her father’s hungry kisses, though her hands worked even harder, stroking his shaft. "Daddy... I want it... Let’s go to the bedroom... I can’t wait to devour your big cock..." Momo’s father let out a hoarse chuckle, one hand lifting Momo by her buttocks to carry her, the other pulling open the bedroom door.

The room was already prepared with a mattress, ready for the father and daughter to fully indulge in their long-delayed forbidden pleasure.

Once inside, Momo’s father eagerly tossed her onto the bed, leaning down to fiercely claim her lips. Momo responded passionately, her sweet tongue darting out to tease his mouth while her hands hurriedly unfastened his belt, pulling out his thick, throbbing cock. "Mmm... Daddy..." Momo moaned, her hands rapidly stroking the rigid shaft. "It’s so big... I want to taste it..." Momo’s father growled, tearing open Momo’s blouse and bra, lowering his head to suck hard on one swollen, sensitive nipple. "Ah... Daddy... It feels so good..." Momo gasped repeatedly, her hands pressing his head against her chest. "Harder... Mmm... Daddy, bite me... I want you to devour me..." "Momo... My baby..." Momo’s father released her nipple, kissing down her collarbone to her abdomen, his large hands kneading her full, soft breasts, thumbs teasing her erect nipples. "You little slut... You’re getting naughtier..." he said, before taking her other nipple into his mouth, sucking vigorously, his tongue skillfully flicking the sensitive bud.

Momo’s hands tangled in her father’s dark hair, her head thrown back as she cried out wantonly, her body writhing involuntarily, her breasts morphing into various shapes under her father’s ministrations. "Ahh... I can’t take it... It’s too intense..." Momo’s body trembled uncontrollably, her pussy already soaking wet. "Daddy... Don’t just focus on me... Take care of my pussy too..." "Alright... Whatever my baby daughter wants, Daddy will give you..." Momo’s father released her, kissing down to the inside of her thighs, then slipping a finger into her drenched entrance. "Oh... Ah..." Momo arched her body, her tight, wet pussy sucking his finger with wet sounds. "Daddy... You’re so good at this..." Momo’s father added another finger, thrusting into her tight hole, while his other hand climbed to her erect breasts, kneading them roughly. "Ahh... I’m going to break... It’s too good..." Momo cried out pitifully, her core gushing with hot liquid. "Daddy... Deeper... Fuck me with your big cock..." "Momo... You little whore... Daddy’s going to satisfy you..."

Momo’s father withdrew his fingers, climbing over her and pressing his thick cock against her chest. "Good girl... Service Daddy..." he commanded, guiding his cock to her red lips. Momo gave him a seductive glance before lowering her head, taking the massive head into her mouth. "Mmm... So big..." Momo hummed contentedly, her lips and tongue working together to suck and lick, her tongue teasing the sensitive tip and ridge. "Daddy’s cock is still so delicious..." Momo’s father hissed in pleasure, grabbing her breasts and pulling his cock from her mouth to slide it between her pale, soft mounds. "Baby... Let Daddy enjoy your big tits..." he murmured, squeezing her breasts and thrusting his cock between them. "Ah... Daddy... So intense..." Momo tilted her head back, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, but her moans grew louder. "My tits... Daddy’s going to break them..." "Baby... Your tits were made for Daddy to fuck..." Momo’s father panted, speeding up, his cock sliding smoothly between her slick breasts. "Come on... Shoot all over me, Daddy..."

With one final thrust, Momo’s father buried his cock deep in her cleavage, the tip brushing her chin, and erupted, spraying thick, white cum across her. "Ahh..." Momo’s eyes widened in a daze, her breasts drenched in her father’s cum, the white liquid trickling down her neck and pooling in her collarbone. Momo’s father pulled out, admiring her soaked breasts with satisfaction. "Baby... Look how depraved you are..." he said with a grin, stroking her cum-covered chest. "You just got home, and you’ve already made Daddy cum on you..." "Hmph... It’s all your fault, Daddy..." Momo pouted playfully, punching him lightly, then lifted her breasts, licking their mixed fluids with lewd sounds. "Daddy’s taste is still so good..." Seeing this lascivious display, Momo’s father’s recently sated desire stirred again. He pulled her close, positioning her to straddle him, his cock aligned with her dripping pussy. "Come on, baby daughter... Let Daddy claim you again..." he said hoarsely, gripping her round hips and thrusting upward.

"Ahh... Daddy..." Momo threw her head back, her body trembling violently as another wave of pleasure surged from her core. Momo’s father began moving, his cock plunging in and out of her tight pussy, each thrust burying him fully before pulling out, leaving just the tip at her entrance. "Ahh... Too fast..." Momo clutched his shoulders, her body swaying with his rhythm. "Slow down... Ah... I’m going to cum again..." Momo’s father ignored her, intensifying his pace, each thrust slamming into her most sensitive spot. "Baby... If you can hold back, I’ll slow down..." he teased wickedly, his hands kneading her snowy breasts, thumbs pressing her sensitive nipples in sync with his thrusts. "Mmm... Daddy... I can’t..." Momo collapsed into his arms, her body shuddering, waves of pleasure overwhelming her. "Then you’re done for..." Momo’s father smirked, pulling out completely before slamming back in with force. "Ah—!" Momo screamed, her senses shattered by the deep thrust, a flood of liquid gushing from her core as she climaxed. "Baby... You’re so lewd..." Momo’s father slowed his movements, his cock still sliding in her hypersensitive post-orgasm pussy. "Cumming so fast from Daddy’s cock..."

Momo slumped against his shoulder, sobbing softly. "Daddy... I can’t... You’re too strong..." she said brokenly, her body still trembling from the lingering pleasure. "I’m going to die from your fucking..." Momo’s father kissed the tears from her eyes, his hips still moving, driving his thick cock deep into her core. "Baby... Don’t worry... Daddy will take care of you..." he soothed, speeding up again, each thrust scraping her most sensitive spot. "Tell Daddy... Compared to your boyfriend, who’s better?" "Daddy... You’re so mean..." Momo blushed but admitted, "You’re so much better... His cock isn’t even half as big as yours..." "And... I’ve already drained him... He can’t satisfy me anymore..." she panted, her body swaying uncontrollably. "I only want Daddy to fuck me... To show him who makes me happier..." "Baby... So honest..." Momo’s father grinned, thrusting hard, piercing her deepest spot. "Then let Daddy conquer you completely... So you’ll never forget my cock..." "Ah..." Momo threw her head back, a high-pitched moan escaping as another gush of liquid poured from her core.

Momo’s father seized the moment, gripping her waist and pounding into her sensitive post-orgasm state. "Baby... Daddy’s going to fuck you to death..." he growled, his cock ravaging her wet pussy, hitting bottom with every thrust. "You’re mine... Only mine..." "Daddy... I want you too..." Momo clung to his neck, her breasts bouncing wildly. "I only want you to fuck me... I don’t care about anyone else..." Momo’s father, driven mad by her words, fucked her with near-brutal force, each thrust crushing her sensitive spot, eliciting more wet sounds. "Baby... You’re Daddy’s angel..." he murmured, pulling out completely before slamming back in, piercing her deepest, most vulnerable spot. "Ah—!" Momo screamed, biting his shoulder as her G-spot took the fatal hit, an unprecedented wave of pleasure overwhelming her, causing her to squirt uncontrollably. "Baby... You did it..." Momo’s father roared with delight, erupting inside her, flooding her womb with his cum.

They collapsed together, their ragged breathing slowly calming. "Baby... I can never get enough of you..." Momo’s father rasped, his hand stroking her bare back, lingering on her round ass. "Daddy... I want you too... I want to keep doing this with you..." Momo hugged his neck, her lips brushing his jaw, still insatiable. "Then let’s go, my little vixen..." Momo’s father flipped her over, pinning her beneath him, his cock hardening again and pressing against her freshly fucked pussy. "Daddy’s going to fuck you until you beg for mercy..." Momo spread her legs, wrapping them around his waist, urging, "Daddy... Hurry..." Momo’s father grinned and thrust in hard, sparking another round of intense sex...

Time flew by, and half the short holiday passed quickly. In every spare moment, Momo and her father indulged in passionate sex in every corner of the house, as if trying to merge their bodies. The dining room, living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom—every place bore the marks of their debauchery. Momo’s pussy and ass were thoroughly fucked by her father, gushing at the slightest touch; his stamina and endurance reached astonishing levels, fucking her to delirium nearly every night. Addicted, they couldn’t stop, clinging to each other whenever her mother was away, trying every position in countless rounds of relentless thrusting until they were utterly spent.

Though utterly depraved, this seemed the perfect way for the long-separated father and daughter to reconnect—in the throes of sex, time seemed to stop, their souls perfectly aligned, with no barriers between them. They devoured each other as if making up for two years apart, sometimes pushing each other to the limit just to chase that mind-shattering ecstasy.

But such a life was fleeting, and as the holiday’s end loomed, they faced the reality of parting...

The air grew heavy with impending separation, and Momo’s emotions became complex. She was eager to return to Korea and shine on stage, but she couldn’t bear leaving her father. These days had deepened her attachment to him. As she wrestled with her feelings, her father knocked on her door.

"Baby... Are you asleep?"

Momo’s heart raced as she leapt out of bed to open the door. Her father immediately pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply. "Daddy... We have to part again..." Momo said sadly, clinging to his neck, her lips brushing his jaw with soft kisses. "Baby... I know... But I couldn’t hold back..." Momo’s father said with a wry smile, his hands roaming her body, kneading her full breasts through her clothes. "Let’s make the most of tonight... I won’t wake you in the morning..." Momo understood—he wanted to fuck her senseless one last time to make up for their upcoming separation. She nodded, letting him push her onto the bed, stripping her clothes off to reveal her tender, alluring body.

His heated gaze raked over her naked form before he leaned down to kiss her breasts, his tongue flicking between her sensitive nipples. "Ah... Daddy..." Momo moaned, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pressing his head toward her more private areas. He obliged, burying his face between her thighs, his skilled tongue teasing her clit and dipping into her wet hole. "Oh...! Daddy... Stop...!" Momo’s moans grew louder, her pussy flooding under his expert touch, lost in the madness of their passion.

Feeling her gushing arousal, he knew she was ready. He knelt between her legs, gripping his ready cock and rubbing it against her slick entrance before thrusting in hard, hitting her deepest spot. "Ah—!" Momo screamed, his massive cock filling her completely, striking her G-spot and sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. He grabbed her waist and pounded relentlessly, each thrust crushing her sensitive spot, drawing more sweet sounds. "Baby... You’re so good... So tight..." he panted, his cock ravaging her pussy. "You’re Daddy’s... Forever..." Momo’s tear-filled eyes held a dazed, enraptured look as she hugged his neck, thrusting her hips to meet his, her pussy clenching around him. "Daddy... I want you... Give it to me..." she begged, lost to reason, wanting only to be filled by him...

"As you wish... My baby..." He roared, speeding up, his final deep thrust flooding her womb with his cum. Momo cried out, her body convulsing with another climax, her nails digging into his back...

A car horn sounded outside—dawn was approaching. Momo’s father gently wiped her body clean with a towel. "Daddy... I’m really leaving tomorrow..." Momo lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, still lost in the afterglow, reluctant to return to reality. He kissed her forehead softly. "Silly girl, we’ll have another holiday, won’t we?" Momo turned to him. "Will there really be a next time?" He smirked. "Of course, and I’m already thinking about how to fuck you next time." He paused, his eyes lingering on her breasts. "Like... bringing Sana and Jihyo along for a foursome..." "Ah—! Daddy, how could you...!" Momo gasped, imagining the scandalous scene if she brought her bandmates to meet her father.

Her heart raced despite her embarrassment... She was shy but couldn’t help fantasizing. Sana was one thing, but Jihyo, the dependable leader she barely knew in this context... "Damn it... Daddy, how could you say that..." She flushed, trying to get off the bed. He pulled her back, chuckling. "Don’t be shy... I’m just planning ahead... Trust me, Sana and Jihyo have already been in my bed..." Momo froze, staring at her grinning father in disbelief. She knew Sana was also her father’s lover, but... Jihyo? Jihyo, the reliable, professional leader—how could she...? "You... How do you know..." Momo stammered, a mix of disbelief and jealousy in her tone. "Jihyo never told me..." "Heh..." Momo’s father smirked, kneading her ass. "You think Jihyo could escape me? She’s better at hiding it than I am..."

Momo’s heart sank—he’d even taken Jihyo... That was too much! "Daddy... How could you... Jihyo’s my respected leader..." she protested, tears in her eyes. "What else are you hiding from me..." He shook his head, sighing. "Baby... You know our relationship is taboo... I’ve been careful to keep it secret. I didn’t expect Jihyo to have her own designs on me... She raped me when I wasn’t paying attention, then kept seducing me. I couldn’t resist..." "What?!" Momo’s eyes widened, staring at the man lying so convincingly. "Daddy, you’re making that up! You must’ve started it!" He laughed, denying it. "You trust Jihyo over me?" He kissed her lightly. "Don’t worry... I’ll fuck Sana and Jihyo just as good as I fuck you..." Momo pouted, indignant. "I don’t care... Daddy’s mine alone... You can’t touch other girls..." "Alright... I promise I won’t, as long as you bring them to me to fuck," he said, rubbing her lip with his thumb, his tone wicked.

Momo bit her lip, unsure how to respond. She was jealous of Jihyo and others but also craved watching her father dominate other women... This conflict tormented her, trapping her in a deep struggle... Finally, she made up her mind. "Fine... I agree... But Daddy has to promise not to neglect me when you’re fucking other girls..." She met his gaze defiantly. "You can fuck anyone, but you have to save the most love for me..." He laughed heartily, pinning her down. "Greedy girl... But I like it." He sealed her lips with his, his fingers slipping back into her wet pussy. "Mmm... Daddy... No..." Momo protested weakly, unable to resist his powerful body as he had his way with her... "Don’t worry... I’ll satisfy you, my baby..." he murmured, his fingers thrusting rapidly, bringing wave after wave of pleasure...

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

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SYLM Side Story: Looking Good, Feeling Good

Alrighty, today we have a little side story to my Twice series. We get to see the fun Mina and Momo get up to when it's just the two of them.

Length 2.1K

Momo X Mina

Momo smiled as she placed a bag down on the table in front of Mina. The younger woman cocked her head, “What’s this?”

“Some clothes for us to wear the next time we meet with a certain someone,” Momo said with a slight smirk. Mina turned her head, blushing slightly as she thought about what Momo meant.

Momo reached into the back and grabbed a set of clothing, tossing it to Mina. “Here, put these on.” Momo grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her along to the bedroom. The suddenness nearly had Mina drop the clothing. As they entered the room, both women stripped down and then dressed themselves in the clothing Momo had bought. “This is going to make him go crazy for us. Just think, if we showed up at his house dressed like this. He won’t be able to resist us.”

Mina patted her lap, pouting as she pulled the hem of her skirt down as far as it could go. “Isn’t this a little short?’ she asked, looking over to Momo, who was looking at herself in the mirror with a smile.

“No, this is perfect!” She said, turning around to face her roommate. “He’ll love it and barely be able to keep his hands off us.

“I just think it’s a little embarrassing, don’t you? You can almost see my butt because of how short this skirt is.”

“You say that like he hasn’t seen you naked,” Momo responded, sticking her tongue out. Momo was right, but it didn’t make Mina feel any better about the outfit she wore. It wasn’t the most revealing thing in the world, but her point still stood. Her outfit consisted of a short blue miniskirt, with the word four scrawled out on the front. Any movement that required her to bend over or squat would show something off. Mina didn’t have a problem with the tops at least, they covered her well, zipping up in the middle and stopping at her neck.

“You know what I mean,” Mina whined, filling her cheeks with air and puffing them out.

Momo laughed and squished Mina’s cheeks together. “This outfit is just for him. It’s been a while since we've had the chance to do it together.”

“Yeah, but you did it with him and Chaeyoung.” Mina mumbles, her face squished by the younger woman. “I should get another turn with him.”

Momo leans in, “You want your daddy to cum in you again?” The younger woman smirked, knowing that it was embarrassing for Mina to hear that. Mina’s face turned red, and she looked away, pursing her lips. “I may not be your daddy, but I can help you,” Momo said, pressing her lips against Mina’s, pushing her onto her back. Momo’s hand drifted under the younger woman’s skirt. She rubbed Mina’s slit through her panties, earning herself soft moans from her roommate. “How long has it been since we had fun together, just the two of us?” Momo asked, not getting a response from Mina as the younger woman was too busy moaning as Momo slipped her fingers under her panties. Momo gently tapped against Mina’s slit, when her roommate’s mouth opened to moan she snuck her tongue inside, playing with hers.

Momo knew just what buttons to press with Mina; the two had been intimate with each other so many times over the years, they knew each other’s bodies like the back of their hands. Momo moved her fingers in small circles around Mina’s sensitive clit.

Mina arched her back and craned her neck, breaking the kiss. As pleasure flooded her body, she reached for Momo’s zipper, pulling it down to free the older woman’s tits. Mina’s hand shook, but she reached forward, gripping the large heavy mounds and squeezing them roughly as she felt Momo’s fingers push into her cunt. “M-momo,” she whined, her body tensing as Momo rubbed her walls. The older woman leaned down and sucked on Mina’s neck marking her body.

Mina pursed her lips, trying to hold back her moans as Momo’s control over her grew. She felt her roommate unzip her top, opening her shirt. Mina shut her eyes, waiting for Momo’s mouth, but it never came. She opened her eyes, wondering what the older woman was doing. Momo was staring right back at her, a wide, toothy smile on her face. “What’s wrong, baby?” She said in a low tone. “Is there something you want?” Momo was teasing Mina, wanting her to beg for more pleasure.

Mina pushed out her chest, her modest mounds out for the older woman, “Please play with my nipples,” she replied shyly. Momo nodded her head and leaned in, sticking out her tongue and running it along Mina’s soft nipples. She could feel the nub hardening the longer she teased it. When Mina’s nipple became stiff, Momo flicked it. It made Mina squirm. Momo’s warm and wet tongue was coating her nipple, playing with it in just the right way. “Ahh, more,” Mina moaned as the older woman bit down on her nipple and pulled it taut. Mina’s voice got caught in her throat. She could feel her climax approaching as Momo’s fingers picked up the pace at the same time. “C-cumming,” Mina managed to grunt, her body shaking as she held back her climax.

“Cum for me.” Momo moaned into Mina’s ear, her fingers speeding up further to push the older woman over the edge. Mina’s hips thrust upward, she cries out in pleasure as she cums on Momo’s fingers. “That’s it baby, cum for me,” Momo whispered, her fingers continuing to rub Mina’s walls as they tightened around her. Mina’s lower body slowly falls back down, her legs shaking from her climax. She watches as her roommate brings her nectar-soaked fingers to her lips and sucks them clean.

Momo smiles at her, rubbing Mina’s cheek before stripping off her top and pulling down her skirt. “Do you want a little more?”

Mina nods. Her eyes follow Momo as she walks over to the drawer and pulls out a double-sided strapon. She watches as Momo puts it on, her hand stroking the fake cock as she walks back over to Mina. “Do you want to ride, or do you want me to do the work?” Mina considered her options for a second, deciding that she wanted to ride Momo’s strapon. Momo smiled and lay down on the bed, her hand rubbing the strapon as she waited for Mina to straddle her. Mina crawled over Momo slowly, giving her a kiss and grabbing at her tits as she leaned back. The younger woman reached down, aligning her wet slit with Momo’s cock before sitting on it, she felt the thick head spread her lips apart. It pushes inside her; it wasn’t as big as you were, but it would do. Mina made sure every inch was inside her before she began grinding against Momo. She moaned softly, enjoying the feeling of it inside her. Mina placed her hands on Momo’s chest, squeezing the older woman’s mounds, watching as the soft flesh filled the gaps between her fingers. Momo groaned, enjoying the way Mina was playing with her. She wanted more, though. Momo reached back and grabbed a handful of Mina’s cheeks, giving the firm pieces of flesh a quick squeeze before slapping them. It was a quick giddy up, a sign for Mina to start fucking herself on Momo’s faux cock.

Getting the message, Mina began to bounce on it. She rose, squatting over Momo’s crotch and jumping on the cock. Momo could feel the end inside her move; it brushed against her G-spot, making her moan harder.

Both women were beginning to get lost in the pleasure they felt. Mina bounced on Momo’s cock quickly, she grabbed at her own breasts, squeezing the small mounds tightly in her hands as she chased another orgasm. She moved quickly along the shaft, coating it in her nectar; the faster she moved, the deeper it felt as she sent her body crashing into Momo’s crotch.

The act only got rougher as Momo grabbed Mina’s ass, gripping it tightly and slamming the younger woman down on her cock. Momo would thrust up, meeting her halfway. It shifted the toy inside her, making it all feel better.

“Harder,” Mina moaned, imagining it was you fucking her instead of Momo. Momo smiled, seeing the younger woman enjoy herself. She spanked the younger woman’s ass, earning her a small yelp. “That’s it, more,” she continued. Momo gave Mina another slap on the rear, and a stinging pain lingered where it landed. Momo knew that Mina wanted more. The young woman might’ve looked shy and pure when they were out in public, but Momo knew better than anyone who Mina really was.

“It’s my turn to be on top,” Momo groaned, rolling Mina onto her back. The older woman pulled out without a word and forced Mina onto her hands and knees. Momo would give Mina all that she wanted. She grabbed the strapon and pushed back into Mina’s needy cunt, thrusting it all deep into her in one smooth motion. Mina groaned loudly as she felt the strapon hit deep inside her cunt. Her arms began to give way as Momo began to thrust without a care. Soon she was on her face, moaning wildly as Momo used her body.

The older woman watched the way Mina’s as shook from each violent thrust, the way her flesh jiggled as it recoiled from the impacts. Momo knew what Mina really enjoyed and reached for her reddened ass. She grabbed one cheek moving it to the side to reveal Mina’s puckered asshole. Momo had decided to tease the younger woman a little. She used her thumb to circle her precious asshole. Mina’s growing moans were already a good sign that she had noticed what the older woman was doing. Momo smirked and circled the hole twice more before pushing her thumb inside. “Oh, god,” Mina groaned, feeling the second intrusion.

“Sorry, I just needed something to help grab onto,” Momo told her. It was a complete lie; both women knew it, but Mina wasn’t going to argue. She was too buy enjoying getting fucked. Mina arched her back and grabbed onto the bedding, begging for more from the older woman. Momo just smiled, reveling in the sight of Mina giving in to who she really was.

Momo could feel her orgasm building; the dildo inside of her was rubbing against her G-spot with every thrust. She was so close. She bit her lip as she tried to hold on; the moment she came, she would come to a complete stop. Momo brought her other hand down on Mina’s ass, making the piece of flesh grow a brighter red, her hand print almost visible after repeated strikes. “I-I’m cumming,” Mina moaned, her knuckles turning white as she got closer to the edge. Her muscles were tightening, with a few more thrusts Momo forced the younger woman to cum. Mina’s walls tightened around Momo’s cock, clamping down on it. Momo was only able to give her one more thrust before cumming herself. She buried the cock inside Mina. Momo’s body shook as she was overcome by the pleasure. She collapsed on top of Mina, her nipples rubbing against the younger woman’s back as she adjusted herself.

“Fuck, that was good,” Momo moaned before kissing the back of Mina’s neck. “Should we send him a picture? You know, show him what he’s missing?” Momo asked with a devilish smirk.

“Y-yeah, I think we should,” Mina replied through heavy breaths. Mina stretches her body to the nightstand and grabs her phone, pulling up the camera. She holds the camera at arm's length. She gives a piece of sign and Momo does too, their sweaty bodies on full display. Once the picture is taken, Momo pulls the strapon out of Mina and takes it off. The pair lay beside each other, with Mina sending you the image and attaching the message. “We had a little fun without you. I hope you can come by soon. I miss you.” Mina had debated writing that she missed your cock, but she felt embarrassed to be sending such a message and decided on the alternative. Once the message was sent Mina put her phone down and caught her breath for a moment, but only for a moment as Momo’s hands reached around her body, one tugging at her nipple while the other played with her cunt.

“I think we should go another round,” Momo said, kissing the younger woman’s neck. The two continued to have fun for the next few hours, enjoying each other's company and taking turns being the dominant one.

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waterproofwater0 · 1 month ago

Text

Gambler ft Chaewon

Words : 7k

Tags : squirting, vibrator, nipple clamp

Chaewon sat cross-legged on the floor of y/n's apartment, her eyes scanning the neatly organized bookshelf in the corner of the room. She was a small, slender girl with a quiet demeanor that often made people underestimate her sharp mind and fiery spirit. Her shirt hugged her modest chest, hinting at the curves that lay beneath, and her jeans were snug enough to accentuate her toned legs. She had a penchant for simple yet stylish outfits that made her look both comfortable and alluring.

"So, what do you feel like doing today?" y/n called out from the kitchen, their voice muffled by the clinking of glasses and the hum of the fridge.

Without taking her gaze off the book spines, Chaewon replied, "How about a card game?" She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye that suggested she had more than just a friendly competition in mind.

y/n poked their head out of the kitchen, a beer in one hand and a pack of cards in the other. "Uno, then?"

"But with a twist," Chaewon said, her smile widening. "Every time someone loses a round, they have to take off a piece of clothing."

y/n's eyebrows shot up. "Strip Uno? That's a bit risky, don't you think?" They took a swig of their beer, watching Chaewon's reaction with amusement.

"Not if you're good at bluffing," she quipped, her tone light and teasing. She knew y/n had a penchant for daring games and was eager to see if they'd take the bait.

Setting the beer down on the coffee table, y/n shuffled the cards with a grin. "Alright, you're on. But only if we make it interesting." They paused for a moment, a glint of excitement in their eyes. "How about this: for each round win, you can put one piece of your clothing back on"

Chaewon felt a thrill run through her body at the proposal. She nodded eagerly. "You're on."

The room was filled with the sound of shuffling cards and the occasional laugh as they began to play. Each card laid down was met with a smack on the table, the tension between them growing thicker with every passing minute. The air was charged with anticipation, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting to see who would make the first move.

In the first round, Chaewon's hand was not as kind to her as she had hoped. She found herself stuck with a pile of high-value cards and no way out. With a dramatic sigh, she played a Reverse card, hoping to buy herself some time. But y/n was ready with a Draw Four, turning the tables and forcing Chaewon to accept her fate.

With a mock look of defeat, Chaewon stood up and began to strip off her jacket. It was a simple black leather number, but it framed her body perfectly, accentuating her narrow waist and the swell of her breasts beneath her shirt. As the jacket slipped down her arms and fell to the floor, she couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. The cool air of the apartment kissed her bare skin, sending goosebumps racing down her spine. She folded the jacket neatly and placed it beside her, her eyes never leaving y/n's.

The second round began with a similar tempo. Chaewon's heart hammered in her chest as she drew her cards. She tried to focus on her strategy, but the anticipation of the game's outcome kept distracting her. Her eyes kept drifting to y/n's face, watching the way their gaze lingered on her chest as she moved. Despite the friendly banter, the air was thick with a tension that was anything but innocent.

As the round progressed, it became clear that Chaewon's luck hadn't changed. She drew a series of unhelpful cards, and y/n's smirk grew wider with each one she played. When she was down to a single card, she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to reveal more of herself. The moment came, and with a dramatic flourish, she played her final card.

"I'm afraid it's your turn to pay up," y/n said, their voice low and smoky.

Chaewon felt the heat rising in her cheeks as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She had worn a plain white tank top underneath, which she now peeled off with a sense of defiance. Her breasts bounced slightly with the movement, and she watched as y/n's eyes darkened, their pupils dilating. The tank top joined her jacket on the floor, and she sat back down, trying to regain her composure.

The third round began, and the tension between them grew palpable. Chaewon's mind raced with both the desire to win and the thrill of the game's increasing stakes. Her hand was a mix of numbers and colors, and she struggled to form a coherent strategy. Despite her best efforts, she found herself with a handful of cards that didn't match up.

When y/n played a Wild Draw Four, Chaewon couldn't help but laugh nervously. She was now down to her jeans, and the thought of stripping in front of her friend was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the inevitable.

With trembling hands, she began to unbutton her jeans. The zipper whispered as it slid down, revealing the lacy black thong she had chosen that morning. She slid the denim down her legs, the fabric catching briefly on her hips before pooling around her ankles. She stepped out of them gracefully, the fabric whispering against the hardwood floor.

The fourth round had begun with a renewed sense of urgency. Chaewon's heart pounded in her chest as she held onto the hope that this time, she could be the one to turn the tide. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, she played her cards with precision, almost seeing the victory within her grasp. But y/n had other plans. They played a sly Reverse card, followed by a Skip, leaving Chaewon with no choice but to draw two more cards. Her eyes widened as she took in the new additions to her hand, realizing that she was still one step away from victory.

The tension in the room grew palpable as the two friends stared at each other, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air like a dense fog. Chaewon knew she had to act fast if she wanted to regain the upper hand. She played a series of low-value cards, hoping to catch y/n off guard. But y/n was a skilled player and quickly countered with a flurry of strategic moves that left Chaewon feeling both frustrated and thrilled by the challenge.

As the round drew to a close, y/n played a wild card, changing the color to green. Chaewon's hand was a sea of red and blue, with not a single green card in sight. She swallowed hard, knowing that she had no choice but to draw four. The room was silent except for the sound of her breathing, which had grown heavier and more ragged.

With a dramatic flourish, y/n claimed victory in the fourth round. Chaewon's cheeks burned with both embarrassment and arousal as she reached for the bottom of her tank top. She pulled it up over her head, the cool air in the room caressing her bare stomach and the tops of her breasts. The tank top joined her discarded clothing on the floor, leaving her in just her thong and bra.

"What if I don't have anything to strip?" Chaewon asked, her voice quivering with a mix of excitement and nerves as she looked up at y/n. The question hung in the air, thick with the scent of their desire and the electricity of the moment.

"Then you'll do what I say," y/n replied, their eyes gleaming with mischief. "But for now, let's keep playing. Who knows, you might get lucky and win a round or two."

The fifth round began, and Chaewon felt the weight of the game pressing down on her. Each card she played was a declaration of her vulnerability, and with every piece of clothing she removed, she felt more exposed—both physically and emotionally. She drew a card, her hand shaking slightly, and played a blue seven.

y/n played a blue four, and the game went on. Chaewon's breath hitched as she drew a Skip card, her eyes darting to her opponent. The anticipation was unbearable. She knew what was coming next.

As expected, y/n played a Draw Two, and Chaewon's heart sank. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, her breasts spilling out into the open. The fabric slid down her arms, and she let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. Her cheeks were crimson, but she couldn't look away from y/n's intense gaze.

The sixth round began with a sense of finality. Chaewon's hands trembled as she picked up her cards. Her chest heaved with every breath, her nipples erect from the coolness of the room and the heat of the moment. She played a yellow two, and y/n smirked, playing a yellow seven. Chaewon knew she was going to lose again.

With a flick of her thumbs, she pushed her thong to the side, revealing her shaven mound to y/n. She stepped out of the scrap of fabric, feeling a rush of cold air between her legs. The thong joined her other clothes on the floor, and she stood before y/n, completely naked.

The silence was deafening as they stared at each other, the air thick with desire. Chaewon's chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart pounding in her ears. The game had taken an unexpected turn, and she was surprised by the thrill of it all. The heat in the room seemed to intensify, and she felt her body respond to the raw sexual energy.

The seventh round began, and Chaewon played with renewed determination. Each card she placed on the table was a declaration of her intent to win back some of her dignity. She played a blue five, and y/n laid down a yellow eight. Chaewon felt a flicker of hope. Could she finally win a round and put something back on?

But fate had other plans. With a wicked smile, y/n played a Draw Two, and Chaewon knew she was doomed. She drew two more cards, her hand shaking as she looked at them. A red six and a blue nine stared back at her, offering no escape from her current predicament.

"What should I do?" Chaewon whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't have any fabric left."

y/n's smirk grew wider, and they stood up from the floor, gesturing for her to follow. She did so, her nakedness feeling less like a penalty and more like a thrilling secret shared only between them. They led her to the bedroom, a place she had never been in before, and she felt a mix of curiosity and excitement as she stepped into the dimly lit room. The scent of y/n's cologne filled the space, and she couldn't help but notice the unmade bed and the mess of clothes scattered across the floor. It was a stark contrast to the neat living room where they had been playing.

On the bedside table lay a shiny, black object. Chaewon's eyes widened as y/n picked it up. "Wear this while playing the next round," He said, holding out the ball butt plug to her. It was a bold move, and she felt a jolt of arousal at their command. The plug was smooth and slightly cold in her hand, the metal feeling foreign and intimidating.

"Okay, I will do it," Chaewon murmured, her voice a soft whisper of submission. She took a deep breath and slowly inserted the plug, feeling it fill her and the pressure building inside her. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as it settled into place, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. She could feel it shift with every step she took as she moved back to the living room, the weight of it a constant reminder of the game's stakes.

The next round began, and Chaewon's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and more turned on than she ever had in her life. Each card she played was a dance of defiance and submission, her body reacting to the thrill of the game. As she lost again, she knew what was coming.

y/n's voice was low and commanding as they handed her a small box. Inside, she found two shiny silver nipple clamps attached by a delicate chain. The sight of them made her breath hitch in her throat. She had never used anything like this before, but the excitement of the moment made her want to try.

Her hands trembled as she opened the box and took out the clamps. The cold metal sent a shiver down her spine as she placed one on her left nipple, squeezing it shut with a gentle yet firm pressure. The sensation was surprisingly pleasurable, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan. y/n's eyes darkened as they watched her, the heat in the room seeming to increase with every second that passed.

The next round began, and Chaewon played with a newfound sense of urgency. Her body was alive with sensation, the plug in her ass and the clamps on her nipples creating a symphony of pleasure that was almost too much to bear. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she played a blue three. y/n's eyes never left her face, watching her every move with a predatory gaze that sent shivers down her spine.

But it was not to be. y/n played a green seven, and Chaewon knew she was out of luck again. The room spun around her as she reached for the next item of clothing to remove, but there was none left. Instead, y/n leaned over and whispered in her ear, their hot breath sending waves of heat through her body. "This time," he said, "you're going to use this." he placed a sleek, black vibrator into her trembling hand.

Chaewon looked at the device, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had never used a vibrator in front of anyone before, let alone during a game of Uno. She bit her bottom lip, the taste of her own desire mingling with the metallic flavor of the nipple clamp. Slowly, she slid it between her legs, feeling the slickness of her arousal.

The vibrator was cold against her heated skin, and she gasped softly as she positioned it at her entrance. With a deep breath, she pushed it in, feeling the fullness and the vibration that echoed through her core. The game had taken an unexpected turn, and she couldn't believe the thrill it brought her. The room was a blur around her as she focused on the sensations building within her, the cards on the table forgotten for a moment.

y/n watched her intently, their eyes never leaving hers as she began to move the vibrator in and out of herself. Chaewon's breath hitched with each stroke, and she felt the pressure building within her. The game had become a dance of power and desire, and she was utterly captivated by the thrill of it all.

The next round began, but y/n had a different plan. He was a master of patience and strategy, and he knew exactly how to push Chaewon's buttons—both on the card table and off. He played his cards slowly, drawing out each move with a deliberate precision that had her on the edge of her seat. The vibrator was relentless in its rhythm, and she could feel her orgasm approaching like a freight train.

Chaewon's hand trembled as she tried to play, the sensations overwhelming her. She knew she couldn't hold out much longer, and she desperately hoped she'd be able to win this round. But y/n was unyielding, playing card after card without giving her the opening she needed. The tension in the room was unbearable, and she could feel her body tightening around the vibrator.

Suddenly, unable to take it anymore, she threw her cards into the air with a shriek. The room was filled with the sound of them fluttering to the floor as she lost control. Her body convulsed, and she felt a rush of wetness between her legs, soaking y/n's shirt. The intensity of her orgasm took her by surprise, and she collapsed back onto the couch, the vibrator slipping out of her.

y/n chuckled softly, the sound sending another shiver down her spine. They had won the round without even playing their last card, and she was left panting and exposed before them. But the thrill of the game had only just begun.

"I guess I won that round," y/n said, their voice filled with amusement. Chaewon nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "But don't think you're off the hook just yet." They reached out and picked up the discarded cards, shuffling them back into the deck with a mischievous smile. "We're not finished until one of us is completely bare."

The air was electric as the game continued, each round bringing them closer and closer to their ultimate goal. The sounds of their laughter and the occasional slap of a card on the table were punctuated by gasps and moans of pleasure. The room was a whirlwind of emotions, each more intense than the last.

As the final round approached, Chaewon was down to just the plug and the nipple clamps. She knew that if she lost this round, she would be fully exposed and at y/n's mercy. The anticipation was unbearable, her body wound tight with tension and need.

With a flick of the wrist, she played her last card and watched as y/n's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Looks like it's my turn to win," they said, leaning back in their chair. Chaewon felt a mix of relief and disappointment, the thrill of the game leaving her craving more.

"Suck my dick," y/n ordered, his voice low and commanding. Chaewon's eyes widened, and she felt a jolt of excitement at the sudden shift in dynamics. She had never been so boldly told what to do before, and the raw power in his words sent a thrill through her. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the vibrator, unsure if she could go through with it. But the heat in their eyes was undeniable, and she found herself eager to please.

Her trembling hand reached down to unzip y/n's jeans. The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room, a stark reminder of their newfound intimacy. His cock sprang free, erect and flushed with arousal. It was a beautiful sight, and Chaewon felt a rush of desire that surprised even herself. She leaned in, her breath warm against the velvety head of his cock.

"So big," she murmured, her voice a mix of awe and challenge. It was a declaration of her willingness to take him on, to conquer this final frontier of their daring game. She took him in her hand, the weight and heat of him feeling so real, so alive in her grip.

Her mouth opened, and she took him in, inch by inch, feeling the stretch of her jaw muscles as she tried to accommodate his size. It was a delicate dance, one that required precision and skill, much like playing the perfect Uno card. She felt his cock hit the back of her throat, and she gagged slightly, her eyes watering. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she took a deep breath and pushed through the sensation, determined to show y/n that she was more than just a pretty face and a clever player.

"So tight," y/n murmured, their hand coming to rest on the back of her head, guiding her movements. "Your mouth is so skillful." The praise washed over her like a warm wave, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Chaewon had always enjoyed the feeling of giving pleasure, and the knowledge that she was pleasing y/n in such a raw, primal way was intoxicating.

With a sudden jolt, y/n's grip tightened, and they began to thrust their hips, fucking her mouth with increasing force. Chaewon's eyes watered, but she didn't protest. Instead, she took it all in, the salty taste of y/n's arousal mingling with her own excitement. Her tongue danced around his shaft, exploring every ridge and vein, eager to give him the best experience possible.

The hand on the back of her head grew more insistent, guiding her movements with a roughness that she found thrilling. Each time y/n pushed into her throat, she gagged slightly, the sound muffled by the flesh filling her mouth. The vibrations from the plug in her ass seemed to sync with the rhythm of his hips, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

"Glukk glukk glukk," was the only sound Chaewon's mouth could produce as she worked her way down his cock, the wet noises echoing through the quiet apartment. The salty taste of him grew stronger, and she could feel his body tense with each deep throat. Her own arousal was building again, the clamps on her nipples adding an extra edge to the sensation.

Her hand wandered down to her clit, the nub of sensitive flesh begging for attention. She began to rub it in small circles, her fingers slipping through her wetness. The combination of the plug in her ass and her fingertips on her clit was driving her crazy. She could feel an orgasm approaching, and she knew she couldn't hold out much longer.

y/n noticed her movements and chuckled darkly. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself." he didn't stop fucking her face, instead increasing the pace. Chaewon moaned around his cock, her hand moving faster and more desperately. She felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping around her as she approached the precipice.

With each thrust, the plug pushed against her g-spot, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. She could feel y/n's cock swelling, and she knew he was close too. The power dynamics had shifted again, and she was in control now. Chaewon's hand flew over her clit, her thumb pressing down harder with each stroke. The tension grew unbearable, her body coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap.

The world around them faded away as they both focused on the moment, the only sounds in the room being the wet noises of her mouth and the slap of his hips against her face. Chaewon felt the first wave of her orgasm crash over her, the intensity of it taking her by surprise. Her body bucked, and she almost pulled away from y/n's cock, but his hand held her in place, not letting her escape the delicious torment.

The second wave hit her harder, and she came with a muffled cry, her muscles clenching around the plug. y/n groaned, their grip on her hair tightening as they felt her spasm around them. They could feel her body pulsing with each wave of pleasure, and it pushed them over the edge. With a final, rough thrust, they came, filling her mouth with their hot seed. Chaewon swallowed, her eyes watering from the intensity of the sensation.

When he finally pulled out, Chaewon gasped for air, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed over with lust. They both sat there for a moment, panting heavily, the room spinning around them. The game of Uno had become a battle of wills, and she had emerged the victor, at least for now. The look of surprise and satisfaction on y/n's face was all the prize she needed.

"Tell me what you want, Chaewon," y/n ordered, his voice gruff and demanding. It was a question that held no room for refusal, and she felt a thrill run through her at his dominance. She knew what she wanted, but saying it out loud was a whole different ball game. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, her voice steady and sure.

"Fuck me, y/n," she said, her voice a little louder this time. "I want to feel your big dick inside me."

Without missing a beat, y/n stood up and walked over to her, his cock still hard and glistening with her spit. He grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her onto the coffee table, positioning her on all fours. The coolness of the wood sent a shiver up her spine, and she arched her back, her ass high in the air.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to get what you asked for," he murmured, the promise in his voice sending a thrill through her. His hand slid down to her ass, and with one swift motion, he pulled out the butt plug.

"Ahhhh," Chaewon moaned, the sudden emptiness making her body spasm with pleasure. She could feel her juices dripping down her thighs, the anticipation of what was to come making her pussy clench. She had never been so ready for anything in her life.

And then, without any warning, y/n's cock filled her completely, sliding into her wetness with ease. The feeling of fullness was intense, and she could feel her walls stretch around him. At the same time, he pushed the butt plug back into her ass, and she let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure.

"Ahh, so much," Chaewon moaned, her voice echoing through the room. She had never felt so filled before, and the dual sensations were overwhelming. The plug was cold from being out of her body, but her ass quickly warmed around it, welcoming it back with a delightful shiver.

The vibration of the plug in her ass synced with each deep stroke of y/n's cock in her pussy, creating a symphony of sensations that sent her spiraling. "It's...it's amazing," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm building again, the pressure mounting in her core. "So...so full."

Without warning, y/n's hand cracked against her ass, sending a shockwave through her body. Chaewon's eyes flew open, and she gasped. The sting was unexpected, but it only served to heighten her pleasure. "More," she begged, her voice needy and desperate.

y/n's hand came down again, harder this time. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "How does it feel?"

Her words became a staccato of moans and gasps as he spanked her, each smack punctuating his thrusts. "It...it feels...so...so good," she managed to say, her voice breaking with each hit. The pain melded with the pleasure, creating a delicious cocktail of sensation that had her on the edge of madness.

The sound of his hand connecting with her skin was a rhythmic counterpoint to their movements, a perverse metronome that kept time with their passion. "Again," she whimpered, pushing back into each slap. "More."

Her body was a canvas of sensation, the butt plug and smack of his hand painting a new picture of pleasure. The plug in her ass felt like it was swelling, pushing against her insides in time with the pounding of his cock. "It's...bulging," she managed to gasp out, her voice strained with each deep thrust. "I can feel it...under my stomach."

The pressure was unbearable, a delicious ache that grew with every moment. Chaewon's entire being was focused on the fullness of her body, the way she was stretched to accommodate him. It was as if she was being rewritten, transformed by the force of his desire. She moaned, the sound deep and guttural, a primal acknowledgment of the power he wielded over her.

The room was alive with their passion, the smell of sex thick in the air. Her body was a symphony of sensations, each one playing off the others to create a crescendo that she knew she couldn't withstand much longer. "I'm going to...I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice rising in pitch. She could feel it building, a pressure that threatened to tear her apart at the seams.

"Good girl," y/n murmured, his hand moving to her clit to add to the sensory overload. His fingers danced around the sensitive nub, his touch sure and precise. Chaewon felt her body tighten around him, her muscles clenching as she approached the precipice. "Cum for me," he ordered, and she felt the power in his words, a command she couldn't ignore.

With a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Chaewon came. Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, consuming her in a torrent of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Her pussy clenched around his cock, her ass contracting around the plug. "AHHHH," she screamed, the sound echoing off the walls.

The world around them shattered into a million pieces as she rode the wave of pleasure, her body shaking with the force of her climax. y/n's hand remained on her clit, his strokes never faltering, pushing her higher and higher. Chaewon could feel her eyes roll back in her head, the intensity of the sensation too much to bear. "Y/N! Oh my god!" she cried out, her voice hoarse from her screams.

As she came back down, she found herself gasping for air, her body limp and trembling with aftershocks. y/n didn't stop, his movements relentless as he brought her to the edge again and again, her orgasm stretching out into an endless horizon of pleasure. Chaewon had never felt so alive, so in the moment. The game of Uno had turned into a battleground of desire, and she had never felt more powerful, more vulnerable, or more alive.

Chaewon's body was limp, trembling with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. y/n's cock remained deep inside her, his strokes slowing but not stopping. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill through her.

"I know," she whispered, the words barely audible. The intensity of the moment had left her breathless, but she knew it was true. In that moment, she belonged to him in a way she had never belonged to anyone else. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He began to fuck her again, his movements slow and deliberate. Each stroke was a declaration of ownership, a claiming of her body that she couldn't deny. Chaewon felt her arousal begin to build once more, the plug in her ass adding an extra edge to every sensation. She pushed back into him, her hips meeting his with a need that was almost desperate.

Their bodies moved together like a well-oiled machine, each thrust bringing her closer to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel him swell inside her, his grip on her hips tightening. "I want to cum" she begged, her voice a breathless whisper. "Please, y/n. I need it."

Her words seemed to be the trigger he was waiting for. He slammed into her, the force of his movements making the table shake beneath her. "Beg for it more," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head, and she let out a moan that was half pleasure, half desperation.

"I'm...I'm begging," she panted, her voice a ragged mess of need. "Please, y/n. Please make me cum." His strokes grew harder, more demanding, as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. "I'm...I'm so close," she whispered, her voice trembling.

The sound of his hand slapping her ass filled the room, and she felt a new wave of pleasure crash over her. "More," she moaned, her voice needy and raw. "Harder, y/n. I need it." The pain was a sweet agony that only made the pleasure more intense, and she found herself pushing back into each slap, her body craving the release that she knew was just out of reach.

Her voice grew louder, more demanding, as she begged for her release. "Please, y/n," she whimpered. "Please, let me cum." The words were a plea, a desperate cry that seemed to echo in the air around them. She could feel his cock pulsing within her, the heat of his arousal matched by the fire in her own body.

y/n's hand moved from her clit to her throat, squeezing gently as he whispered in her ear. "You want it that badly?" His breath was hot against her neck, and she could feel his teeth grazing her skin. Chaewon's eyes fluttered closed, and she nodded, unable to form coherent words. "Beg," he demanded, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine.

"Please," she choked out, the word a strangled cry. "I'm begging for it. Please, let me cum." Each word was a prayer, a desperate plea for the release that she knew was just out of reach. His grip tightened on her throat, cutting off her air just enough to make her dizzy with need. "Now," he murmured, his voice a promise of what was to come.

And with that, he slammed into her one last time, the force of it sending her over the edge. Chaewon's body convulsed, her muscles clenching around his cock as she came hard, her orgasm tearing through her like lightning. She screamed, the sound muffled by the hand at her throat, as the world around her went white-hot with pleasure.

"Tell me this pussy belongs to," y/n ordered, his voice a harsh demand that cut through the haze of her climax. Chaewon's eyes snapped open, her vision swimming. She could feel him, so close to his own release, his body taut with tension.

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt. "It belongs to you," she said, her words a declaration of surrender and ownership. The power dynamics in the room had shifted again, and she was fully under his control.

y/n's eyes narrowed, his gaze dark and possessive. He could feel his own climax approaching, the heat building in his balls. "Mine," he growled, his grip on her throat tightening as he thrust into her one final time. With a roar, he came, filling her completely. Chaewon's body clenched around him, her orgasm spiking again with the intensity of his own.

For a moment, they remained there, their breathing ragged and their hearts pounding in unison. The room was silent, save for the sound of their bodies coming down from the peak of passion. It was a moment of pure connection, of understanding and acceptance of the raw desire that had taken them both over the edge.

Slowly, y/n pulled out of her, the absence of his cock leaving her feeling empty. He removed the plug from her ass with a gentle tug, and she shivered at the sudden coldness. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. "What now?" she asked, her voice still shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm.

He smirked down at her, his eyes filled with a hunger that had yet to be satiated. "Now," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "we do it again. And this time, I'll show you what it really means to belong to me."

With surprising strength, y/n picked Chaewon up, lifting her off the table. She squealed with a mix of excitement and trepidation, her legs wrapping around his waist. He carried her through the apartment and into the living room, the journey feeling like an eternity as the anticipation built. He sat down on the couch, holding her in place with ease, and she could feel his cock still hard against her ass. "Ride me properly," he ordered, and she knew she had no choice but to comply.

Chaewon straddled him, her pussy slick with their combined juices. She positioned herself over his cock, the tip pressing against her entrance. Looking into his eyes, she felt a sense of empowerment as she lowered herself onto him. He was hers to control now, and she was eager to show him what she could do.

"Remember," y/n said, his voice a low growl, "you don't cum without my permission and u will count how many times u cum." Chaewon bit her lip, the challenge in his words sending a thrill through her. She nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She began to move her hips in a slow, sensual circle, her pussy squeezing him tightly with each rotation.

"I wanna cum y/n, can I?" she asked, her voice a sweet whine that was almost a moan. She watched his reaction closely, her heart racing with anticipation.

y/n's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. "No," he said, his voice a low, firm command. "Not yet." Chaewon's eyes widened, but she didn't protest. Instead, she leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, and began to move her hips faster. She knew the game they were playing, the delicious dance of control and submission that had come to define their night.

Her pussy was a tight, wet glove around his cock, her inner walls clenching with each movement. The sound of their bodies slapping together was almost as arousing as the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her. Chaewon could feel the pressure building again, the beginnings of another orgasm coiling in her stomach like a spring.

"Cum for me," y/n ordered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. Chaewon's eyes widened with surprise at the sudden command, but she found she couldn't resist the urge to obey. She leaned back, her hands planted on his chest for balance as she rode him with renewed vigor. Her breasts bounced with each bounce of her hips, the nipple clamps adding an extra pinch of pain with each movement.

Her breathing grew ragged as the pressure inside her built. "Ahh...ahh...ahh...yes!" she panted, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." And with that, she squirted, the warmth of her release flooding over his cock and down her thighs. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt before, a powerful explosion of pleasure that seemed to radiate from her core.

y/n watched with a mix of amazement and hunger as Chaewon's body convulsed around him. "One," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she felt the first wave of her orgasm wash over her. Her pussy clamped down around him, her muscles contracting in a way that was almost painful. But she didn't care. All she knew was that she needed more.

"Again," he ordered, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to resonate through her entire being. Chaewon nodded, her eyes snapping open to meet his. She began to bounce on his cock, her movements growing more erratic as she chased the high of another climax. Each time she felt herself getting close, she would slow down, teasing herself and him.

"Can I cum?" she asked, her voice a desperate whine. y/n's eyes narrowed, his hand moving to her clit. "Not yet," he said, his thumb pressing down on the sensitive nub. "Keep riding me." Chaewon's breath hitched, the anticipation of his permission making the need to cum even more intense.

Her hips rolled in a sinuous dance, her breasts bobbing with each movement. She felt his cock swell inside her, knew that he was close as well. "Please," she begged, her voice a needy whine. "I need to cum again."

y/n's hand moved to her throat, his grip firm but not painful. "Two," he murmured, his thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles around her clit. Chaewon's body responded immediately, her pussy spasming around his cock as a second orgasm ripped through her. "Good girl," he praised, the words sending a fresh wave of arousal through her.

The hand on her throat tightened slightly, cutting off her air. "Beg for it," he demanded, his eyes never leaving hers. Chaewon's chest heaved, her breath coming in short gasps. "Please, y/n," she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Let me cum again."

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, the wet slapping of their bodies. She could feel the tension building once more, the pressure in her stomach growing with each second that passed. "Now," y/n said, his voice a dark command.

With a scream, Chaewon came again, her body bucking wildly as she lost control. "Three," she managed to choke out, her voice a ragged whisper. y/n's grip on her throat loosened, allowing her to breathe again. She felt him tense beneath her, his cock swelling even more.

"Take it all," he grunted, his hips thrusting up to meet hers. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head, her pussy clenching around him as she felt the warmth of his cum fill her. The sensation sent her over the edge again, a fourth orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. "Four," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

They sat there for a moment, both panting and trembling with the aftermath of their shared pleasure. y/n's cock remained buried inside her, his semen leaking out around the base. Chaewon felt utterly claimed, utterly owned by this person she had once considered just a friend.

Their eyes met again, and she knew that she would never be the same after this night. The power exchange had changed her in ways she couldn't begin to understand. But for now, all she knew was that she was his, and she had never felt more alive.

With a grin that was almost feral, y/n leaned in and kissed her, his tongue claiming her mouth as his cock had claimed her pussy. "You're mine," he murmured against her lips, and she couldn't help but agree. "Forever," she whispered back, her voice filled with a mix of awe and desire.

The game of Uno had led them to this moment, a moment where the lines between friendship and dominance had been blurred beyond recognition. Chaewon knew that she would never be able to look at a simple card game the same way again. But she also knew that she didn't want to. This was a part of her now, a part of her she had discovered with y/n.

As they broke apart, panting for breath, she looked into his eyes and saw the same realization reflected there. They had stumbled into a new chapter of their lives, and she had a feeling it would be one filled with passion, pain, and pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. And she was ready for every moment of it.

But the night wasn't over yet. With a wicked grin, y/n reached for the bowl of toys they had used earlier. Chaewon's eyes widened as she watched him pick out a large dildo. Her body was already so sensitive, so swollen and stretched from his cock and the plug, but she didn't protest. She was his to do with as he wished.

He gently removed the plug from her ass, and she felt the coolness of the room rush in to greet her. Then, with a slick of lube, he began to push the dildo in. It was much larger than the plug, and she gasped as it filled her completely, the length of it reaching deep inside her. She could feel herself stretching around it, the sensation so intense it was almost painful.

He didn't stop there. With a flick of his wrist, he inserted a vibrator into her pussy, the buzzing starting at a low hum that grew more intense with each passing moment. She was already so close to the edge again, and she knew she couldn't hold on for much longer. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she panted, her body shaking with need.

But before she could finish her sentence, she felt the darkness closing in around her. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head, and she passed out from the overwhelming pleasure. Her body went limp, but y/n didn't stop. He turned up the vibrator, watching as her body responded even in unconsciousness.

For twelve hours, she squirted and convulsed on the couch, her pussy clenching around the vibrator as it brought her to one orgasm after another. The smell of sex and sweat filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of the vibrator. It was a symphony of pleasure that played out across her unconscious mind, a testament to their newfound bond.

When she finally came to, she was lying in a pool of her own fluids, the dildo still in her ass and the vibrator buzzing away in her pussy. y/n was sitting beside her, watching her with a look of pride and possessiveness. "Welcome back," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the early morning.

Chaewon blinked, trying to focus on his face. "What...what happened?" she managed to croak out.

"You passed out," he said, his smirk never wavering. "But that didn't stop me from having my fun."

Her cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. She had never experienced anything like this before, and the thought of being used so completely was both terrifying and incredibly thrilling.

"Do you want me to take them out?" he asked, his eyes on the toys still embedded in her body. Chaewon's gaze darted down to where the dildo and vibrator lay, her body still quivering slightly from the aftershocks of her marathon orgasm.

With a shaky nod, she whispered, "Yes, please."

y/n leaned in, his hand moving to the base of the dildo. With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to pull it out, the sensation of being filled and then empty sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. As the last inch disappeared, she felt a gush of wetness, her body still responding even now.

He turned off the vibrator and removed it gently, placing both toys aside. Then, with the tender touch of a lover, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she trembled with the aftermath of what had happened. "You're mine," he murmured into her hair. "Mine to use, mine to protect, and mine to love."

Chaewon couldn't argue with that. As she curled into his embrace, she knew that she had found a part of herself that she had never known existed. And she was ready to explore it further, with y/n by her side.

Their friendship had transformed into something darker, something more primal and raw. And as the dawn broke outside, casting a soft light across their tangled forms, she knew that she would never want to go back to the way things were before.

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waterproofwater0 · 2 months ago

Text

Good Thing ft. Yuqi

idle X BWC

The van door clicked shut behind Jamie with a soft, expensive thud.

Yuqi sprawled across one of the buttery-soft leather bench seats, one leg tucked under her, the other stretched out, toes brushing the armrest. LED lighting pulsed low overhead—cool blue, like the inside of a spaceship. The whole cabin smelled like bergamot and cashmere.

“Nice ride,” Jamie said, looking around. “This is what? Popstar Uber?”

She smirked, pulling her ponytail tighter. “Celebrity tour van. Built for airport runs and hungover exits. But today? It’s mine.”

Jamie ran a hand through his hair, half-grinning. “And you invited me in because…?”

“Because you’re cute,” she said simply. “And because I wanted to see if your jeans were lying.”

His brow lifted. “Lying?”

Yuqi tilted her head. “You’ve got that calm-dirty energy. Tall, quiet, too confident. I’ve seen enough to know that usually means something impressive underneath.”

Jamie laughed, that low British warmth curling around every word. “So what, this is your mobile inspection unit?”

“Exactly.” She patted the leather. “Take a seat. Or stand. Either way, get your dick out.”

He blinked. “Wow.”

“You want me to beg?” she teased. “Not really my style.”

Jamie stepped closer, unbuttoning his jeans slow. “You always this direct?”

“Only when I’m already wet.”

Her mouth curved wickedly as his cock sprang free—thick, hard, everything she’d guessed and more.

“Knew it,” she murmured, wrapping her hand around him. “Fuck, you’re heavy.”

She licked him once, slowly, then looked up. “Bet girls get stupid over this.”

Jamie’s breath hitched. “Usually not in luxury transport.”

Yuqi didn’t answer. She just took him into her mouth, deep and dirty, her spit slicking his shaft as she worked him with expert rhythm. Her moans vibrated around him. Her hand twisted just right.

He groaned, jaw tight. “Shit… Yuqi.”

She pulled off, panting. “You close?”

He shook his head, barely.

“Good,” she said. “I want to ride it before you blow.”

Yuqi straddled him, her thighs slick against Jamie’s. The cool leather under her knees did nothing to chill the fire crawling up her spine. His cock sat hard between her folds, thick and ready, rubbing against where she ached most.

“You sure?” Jamie murmured, voice low, eyes locked on hers.

Yuqi smirked and leaned in close, lips at his ear. “I don’t invite just anyone up front.”

He exhaled, sharp. “Didn’t think so.”

She licked his earlobe, guided him, and sank down slow.

Both of them gasped.

“Fucking hell,” she moaned, head dropping back. “That stretch—it’s perfect.”

Jamie’s hands clamped on her hips. “You’re unreal.”

“I know,” she said, rolling her hips. “I was made to ride cocks like yours. Thick. Deep. Makes my stomach tight.”

She set a rhythm, bouncing on him harder, filthier, the wet slap of their bodies echoing through the velvet-lined van. Her hair stuck to her damp cheeks, tits swinging as she rode him without mercy. His hands gripped her ass tight, leaving deep red marks with every squeeze.

“You feel all of it?” she breathed, biting her lip, sweat glistening down her chest. “Every inch?”

“Every fucking inch,” he groaned, thrusting up into her with reckless hunger.

He pulled her forward, mouth hot on her neck—kissing, then biting. She gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he licked the sweat from her skin, tracing the curve of her collarbone.

“God, you taste insane,” he growled, dragging his tongue down her throat, then lower—pressing kisses across her chest, her ribs.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I’ll lose my mind.”

He answered by thrusting up again—deep, hard—while his mouth never stopped tasting her.

She laughed, high and breathless. “Told you I could take it. I was born for this.”

Jamie grabbed her ass, slammed up into her. The van rocked.

“Jamie—yes—just like that—” she cried, body seizing as her orgasm hit. She ground down through it, riding every wave, leaving him soaked in her.

He was close, chest heaving, but still holding on.

Yuqi slid off him with a shudder, dropped to her knees, and took him back into her mouth—messy, hungry, no hesitation. Her hand stroked fast, tight at the base, while her lips stretched around the slick head. Her mouth was hot, wet, relentless.

She moaned as she sucked, spit spilling from her chin, tongue dragging under his cock like she was trying to pull the orgasm straight out of him. Her eyes stayed locked on his, dark and glassy, daring him to hold on as her mouth fucked him deeper, filthier.

“Come for me,” she whispered against the head. “Give me everything.”

Jamie groaned, twitching.

She looked up, eyes wide. “I want it in my mouth. Don’t hold back.”

He came with a low, desperate moan, hips twitching, cock pulsing hard against her tongue. Hot, thick ropes spilled straight down her throat, and she didn’t flinch—just sucked harder, lips sealed tight around him as she swallowed every drop.

Yuqi moaned like she loved it, tongue still working as he spilled the last of it. Even after his muscles tensed and sagged, even after his groan broke into breathless gasps, she stayed there—sucking him slow, licking around the head like he wasn’t done. Like she wasn’t.

She pulled off with a wet sound, dragged her tongue along the slit one more time, and licked his shaft clean—smiling, wrecked, insatiable.

“You’ll be thinking about this every time you see a tour van now.”

Jamie nodded, fucked-out and speechless. “That was a fucking ride.” ----- pushed back a lot of requests for this series. I'll do more of idle in the next few days! -----

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waterproofwater0 · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request a yandere lesserafim x male reader smut please?????!!!!

ACROSS THE HALL (Yandere & Smut)

Yandere Le Sserafim OT5 x Male Reader

You never thought much about your neighbors—until they moved in.

Five girls, all beautiful in a way that didn’t feel real. Too elegant. Too perfect. Like they didn’t belong in a place like this—this dusty, aging apartment complex with its flickering hallway lights and leaking ceilings.

But they chose the unit across from yours. 9B.

At first, you just noticed the shoes lined up by their door. Then came the soft perfume that lingered in the hallway. Then the giggles. Late at night. Like whispers that crawled under your doorframe.

You didn’t meet them until the package incident.

You stepped out to grab your takeout. There was a box sitting outside your door. Not yours. Your name wasn’t even on it. Just…

“To Our New Neighbor ♥”

You hesitated. Then the door across the hall opened.

Kazuha stepped out first. Black tank top, hair pulled back, no bra. Just standing there like she knew what that did to people. Her smile was slow, teasing.

“Oh. You got our gift.”

“Gift…?”

She took a few slow steps toward you. "You’ve been peeking through the peephole, right? We figured you'd want a proper invitation."

Your mouth opened to deny it, but she reached up and pressed a finger to your lips.

“It’s okay. We like it when people watch.”

Behind her, the others filtered out like shadows from behind the door.

Yunjin with a lazy smirk, biting a cherry between her lips.

Sakura with her unreadable stare, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Chaewon standing dead center, eyes sharp, calculating.

And the youngest—Eunchae—just smiling far too wide, like she knew something you didn’t.

Yunjin leaned against the doorway. “You’ve lived here for two weeks and haven’t even said hi. Kinda rude.”

Sakura cocked her head. “We thought maybe you were shy. Or just avoiding us.”

"Or just guilty," Eunchae added, voice sing-song sweet. “You know… for all the things you do when you think no one’s watching.”

Your throat dried.

Chaewon crossed her arms. “Come in.”

“…Why?”

“Because if we have to ask again,” she said coldly, “we’ll drag you.”

The scent inside their apartment was dizzying. Something sweet, like incense, and something faintly metallic underneath.

The lights were low, the furniture too neat, and the windows all blacked out with thick curtains.

“Drink?” Yunjin asked, already handing you a glass.

You didn’t answer. She tilted it to your lips anyway.

“Don’t be rude.”

You drank.

“What is this…?” you muttered, heat already crawling up your spine.

“Just wine,” Sakura whispered behind you, brushing a hand along your back. “We like our guests a little relaxed.”

Chaewon stood in front of you, not blinking.

“Why’d you move here?”

“…Rent’s cheap.”

“You work from home,” Kazuha said softly, sitting beside you on the couch.

“You don’t go out much,” Eunchae added, sitting on your lap.

“You don’t have friends,” Sakura murmured, pulling off your hoodie like it was hers.

“You’re perfect,” Yunjin said with a grin.

The more you tried to pull away, the closer they got.

Kazuha never wore a bra when she visited you. She always leaned down too far to grab something, letting you glimpse her nipples through her shirt like it was an accident.

Yunjin texted you, despite never asking for your number. She sent voice notes at 2am.

"Thinking about you again. Want me to come over?"

Eunchae showed up at your door dripping wet in a towel.

“I locked myself out,” she said, pouting. “Can I wait inside yours?”

She left her panties on your couch when she left. Intentionally.

Sakura never spoke much. Just stared. Like she was carving every part of you into her memory.

And Chaewon? She was different. She never flirted. She didn’t smile. She just… watched. Controlled.

"You know," she said one night, standing behind you in the laundry room. "You're the only male tenant on this floor."

“…Yeah?”

She leaned in, voice against your ear.

“We picked this place because of that.”

It snapped the night they all came in without knocking.

The door slammed open. You were in bed, shirtless. Half-asleep.

“What the hell—?”

“Don’t yell,” Chaewon said. “We were worried.”

“You didn’t answer our texts,” Sakura said.

“Or your calls,” Yunjin added, already climbing onto the bed.

“I was sleeping,” you growled, sitting up.

“You don’t get to ignore us,” Eunchae said cheerfully, pulling the blanket off you. "Not after everything."

Kazuha sat beside you, lips brushing your jaw.

“We waited long enough.”

Their hands came fast. Yunjin on your chest, nails dragging. Sakura between your thighs, gripping you with terrifying confidence.

Kazuha kissed you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasped.

“Stop—what the f—”

Eunchae stuffed your mouth with her panties. “Shh.”

Chaewon straddled your face first. No pretense.

“You’re going to worship us.”

She pressed her soaked cunt to your lips, grinding slow, heavy. Her voice was breathy but cold.

“Lick like your life depends on it.”

Yunjin pumped your cock while whispering filth into your ear.

“Look at you—already so hard. Bet you’ve thought about us fucking you like this.”

Sakura licked your chest, teeth grazing your nipple, then biting—drawing a line of blood she licked up slowly.

“Messy boy.”

Eunchae straddled your stomach, grinning like a devil.

“I want to see how long you last.”

Kazuha took you inside her in one slow, deep stroke. No prep. Just raw, wet, perfect friction. She moaned, her body trembling.

“Oh god—he’s thick.”

She rode you slow, rotating her hips, clenching tight.

“You belong to us now,” she whispered.

“Let him finish,” Sakura said.

“No,” Chaewon snapped, still grinding on your tongue. “He finishes when I say.”

You bucked under them, helpless. Everything was wet. Lips, tongues, nails, sweat, perfume. You were drowning in their bodies, their voices, their obsession.

You came hard—Kazuha screaming, Eunchae watching like it was art.

And then…

Chaewon slapped you.

“You came without permission.”

You blinked, panting, heart racing.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

You woke up hours later—naked, tied to your bed.

The room reeked of sex. The sheets were soaked.

On your chest, written in red lipstick:

“You’re ours now. Don’t even think of running.”

Underneath it: a lipstick print from each of them.

The door was locked from the outside.

And you could still hear them giggling in the next room.

It had been four days since they locked you inside your apartment.

You hadn't seen the hallway.

You hadn’t touched your phone.

They took everything—your laptop, your keys, even your damn clothes.

You tried to fight the first day. Tried kicking the door, screaming. But the walls were too thick. No neighbors on this side. No one to hear.

They rotated shifts.

Kazuha in the morning. Sakura and Eunchae during the afternoon. Yunjin until night. And then Chaewon slept in your bed—next to you—chaining your ankle to hers.

You stopped struggling.

But your mind didn’t.

Kazuha — The “Lover”

Day 5. Morning.

You woke to the sound of soft humming. Your head was in someone’s lap. Kazuha’s.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

She stroked your hair, smiling like it was all normal. You tried to sit up. She pulled you back down.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “You need to rest. I made you breakfast.”

You stared at her. “Why… are you doing this?”

Kazuha blinked slowly, her smile dimming. “Because I love you. We all do.”

“I didn’t ask for this—!”

She grabbed your jaw hard.

“But you wanted it.”

She pulled her shirt off—no bra—and leaned over you. Her breasts grazed your face.

“You watched us. Fantasized. Touched yourself over and over again, thinking we didn’t know.”

She straddled your chest, grinding slowly.

“You let me ride you like a toy, didn’t you? You came so deep.”

She leaned closer, lips brushing your ear.

“So let me ride you again.”

Sakura & Eunchae — The “Twins”

Midday.

Sakura fed you by hand. Tiny spoonfuls of rice porridge. She didn’t blink.

“Open,” she said.

You did. What choice did you have?

Eunchae giggled from behind, brushing your hair like you were her doll.

“We cleaned you while you were asleep,” she said. “You looked so cute.”

You tensed.

Sakura tilted your chin. “You don’t want to be punished again, do you?”

You stayed still.

“I’ll kiss it better,” Eunchae whispered, hand sliding into your shorts. You bucked.

“No,” Sakura warned. “He finishes when I say.”

She stood up, unbuttoning her blouse. No bra. Her breasts perfect, pale, soft.

Eunchae pulled your shorts off, straddling one of your thighs.

“You’re hard again,” she whispered. “Good boy.”

Sakura sat on your face.

“Lick me like you did Chaewon. Better, or I’ll blindfold you for a week.”

Yunjin — The “Wife”

Nightfall.

Yunjin tucked you into bed.

You thought maybe she was the most normal. Until she climbed under the blanket naked and pressed her entire body against yours.

“You smell like them,” she whispered bitterly.

She started kissing down your chest, slower than anyone before her. Her voice trembled.

“Did they make you cum? Did you moan for them?”

You didn’t answer. She grabbed your cock suddenly, squeezing tight.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you choked.

She exhaled through her nose, furious.

“You’re mine at night. They had their turn.”

She pulled your wrists above your head and tied them with her panties. Climbed on top. Sank down on your cock with no prep, no warning.

You bit your lip to stop the noise. She slapped you.

“Don’t hold it in. I wanna hear you.”

Her hips were relentless, riding you like she was trying to erase their scent from your skin.

“You like this? Being owned? Being passed around like a fucktoy between girlfriends?”

She kissed you.

“You’re going to marry us.”

Chaewon — The “Mastermind”

Past midnight.

Chaewon sat beside you, wiping your chest with a warm towel. You were sore. Used. Broken.

She didn’t speak for a while.

Then:

“You didn’t run.”

“…I can’t.”

“No. You didn’t even try tonight.”

She set the towel down. Climbed into bed. Slid under the blanket. Naked.

She didn’t touch you.

She just wrapped your fingers in hers and whispered:

“That’s love.”

You tried to turn away.

She pulled you closer.

“You’ll never leave us,” she whispered.

Her lips brushed your ear.

“If you do… I’ll kill the others. And then myself. And you’ll be alone with their bodies.”

You froze.

Chaewon kissed your forehead and smiled gently.

“Good boy.”

You woke up collared.

A soft black leather one, with a silver ring in front.

No chain. Just the implication.

Yunjin took a photo of you half-asleep and naked, then showed it to the others.

They giggled, crowded around the phone.

Eunchae kissed your cheek.

“We’re gonna make an album.”

Sakura tied a ribbon around the collar.

Kazuha held your face in her hands.

“You’re never going outside again. Okay?”

You didn't answer.

Because somewhere deep down… you didn’t even want to anymore.

537 notes · View notes

waterproofwater0 · 2 months ago

Text

Young & Beautiful

Tanaka Anna x Male Reader

Tags: bedroom, belt-wrapping, blindfolds, daddy kink, dom/sub, facial(-ish), mirror sex, nipple play, old/young, pretty face praising, (lots of) pussy worshipping, suggar daddy, tying up, visual

Word count: 4845.

You had a lot of money but lived the life of a divorced dad. Lonely except for the few times your daughter came to visit you. Until the day she asked you to take her to a university festival to see her favorite new group: Meovv.

As the concert started, your eyes immediately went to one of their members. A young and beautiful Japanese girl.

Your daughter kept enjoying Meovv's performance while your eyes just couldn't get off that girl you didn't even know the name of. But you knew you had to meet her at all costs.

The performance ended, and you asked the security guard if he would let you see the Meovv girls backstage. He granted you some credentials as you talked with the staff about your daughter being a huge fan of them as they let her move close to the girls.

"Anna!" your daughter exclaimed excitedly as she asked one of the members to sign her merch, leading you to know the name of the beautiful girl you were closely watching on stage. Once your daughter moved off to the remaining members, you started talking to Anna.

Anna told you she had a day off tomorrow. You gave her your phone number and placed your bets. But the Japanese girl was rather sweet and gave you a quick answer.

"Pick me up at the label's building," she said.

On the next day, you waited for Anna outside The Black Label's building in Itaewon, seeing a few of their artists, such as Rosé and Somi, go inside. But you only wanted Anna, even though it seemed like it was taking quite long for her to come out of the building, to the point you thought you weren't going to see her.

"Sorry for being late," Anna said as she knocked on your car's door. "No problem," you promptly answered her. "Where do you wanna go?" you ask her. "You can take me anywhere you want," she answered.

You took Anna for what was essentially a day-long date. You two ate ice cream together, had some lunch, and went shopping, you gifting her the most expensive stuff your money could buy. Anna loved every second of it, but as you finally got to your home, the best gift you could give her was yet to come.

"I have a surprise for you," you told Anna. "But first you'll have to let me cover your eyes," you continued. "Sure," Anna answered as you brought a blindfold to cover it.

You look at Anna's beautiful face. Everything about her was incredible. She had

the face of a model, but her incredibly slim body was also to die for. "Promise you'll do anything I ask," you told her. "Yes, I will," she answered.

"Take your top off," you told Anna, who obliged. "Your bra too, or you won't get my gift," you said afterwards. "Alright," she answered, showing you her perky tits. "Squeeze them," you commanded, Anna pinching her tits as you touched her bare belly. "You like that, don't you?" you ask her. "Yes, sir," Anna answers.

"No sir, you are going to call me daddy from now on," you told Anna. "Yes, Daddy," she answered. "Get on your knees and come take a peek at your gift," you told her, getting your crotch close to her pretty face and letting her feel your already hard bulge. "Wow, that's quite a big gift, Daddy; I've never had one like this before," she told you.

Anna touched your clothed bulge, giving your pants a few kisses and licks. "Can I have it, Daddy?" she asked. "Yes, come take your gift," you told her. Anna promptly obliged and pulled your pants down, your cock instantly popping out in her beautiful face.

"Suck it," you told Anna, her taking it very slowly as she had never handled a cock this big before. You started taking your shirt off as she gently kissed your tip and worked her mouth and hands in your shaft, trying to get it deeper in her throat. You took your belt off, wrapping it around her neck and pushing your shaft in her direction. "Gag on it for daddy," you say.

"Open your mouth," you told Anna, using the belt as a way to control her pace. Anna gagged a bit but quickly adjusted to your cock going in and out of her mouth before giving a few licks to the side of your shaft. "You seem very good at that for such a young girl," you told her. "Thank you, Daddy," she answered.

"You like when I stroke your cock like that, daddy?" Anna asked you. "Yes," you quickly answered. "Do you want to fuck my throat, Daddy?" she continued, giving you a hot, blindfolded blowjob. "Please, Daddy, fuck my throat," she kept begging, moving faster and faster down your cock.

You took Anna's blindfold off, letting her see the big cock she was sucking off. "You're so beautiful," you told her. "Thank you, Daddy," she said as she kept voraciously sucking your cock. "You like that, Daddy? Your dick is so good in my hand," she asks. "Keep talking to me," you said. "I love feeling your hard cock between my hands, daddy," she said.

Anna took your massive cock like a champion, bobbing her head hard on your shaft as she kept trying to find new angles to put it in her mouth. You watched as she spitted all over it, slapping it against her tongue and deepthroating it, enjoying her eagerness to take as she good young slut that she was.

"I can't wait for you to shove that big cock inside me, Daddy," Anna said to you. She was really enjoying the massive gift you had given her. Indeed, the temptation to just shove it inside this pretty young thing was enormous, but you had to warm her up a bit first.

"Lie down," you told Anna, who lay on your couch. Quickly, you took the bottom of her outfit and pulled her panties to the side, unveiling her pink slit. "Look at this perfect little pussy," you say to her. You immediately dove down on her, making her moan with your touch and your hard licks in her warm slit from the get-go. "Ahhhhh," she moaned as you reached to grab her tits as you spread her legs to eat her out.

More hot kisses between you and Anna followed as you kept touching her pussy while doing it. Your most primal impulses were quickly taking over, you kissing her with such intensity it felt like your life depended on it. Anna had truly awakened a long-dormant beast inside you, and you were ready to unleash it, even more so as you put a pair of fingers inside her wet slit and felt them already getting coated full of her juices.

"I want you so bad," you told Anna. "Me too, Daddy," she answers. "Damn, how can a girl be so beautiful at such a young age," you continue, groping her nipples as you keep kissing her, Anna stroking your cock while you do so.

"Suck my cock a bit more," you tell Anna, letting her take full ownership of your shaft and lick it from top to bottom as you lie on the couch. She gives you a beautiful smile that drives you crazy. "You look so sexy with that cock in your mouth," you tell her.

"I want more; grind on it," you tell Anna, letting her get on top of you as she gives you a few kisses before rubbing her folds against your throbbing shaft, teasing you to perfection as you give her ass a pair of soft spankings. You move up as she presses your cock against her body, sucking her beautiful boobs as she kisses you as hard as possible.

"Give me that pussy," you tell Anna. "It's all yours, daddy," she says, putting her back on the couch to eat more of the nectar from her slit. "Hmmmm," she softly moans as you move your mouth left and right in her folds, the beautiful expressions she makes while you eat it out.

You look at Anna in the eye, kissing her neck a couple of times before grabbing it. "You wanna play some games, little kitty?" you ask her. "Yes, Daddy," she answers with a big smile on her face before giving him a few more kisses.

You rub your cock against Anna's entrance before slowly penetrating her slit, taking it very slow at first. Her slit is as tight as you would expect. "So good," you tell her, Anna smiling and moaning as you passionately fuck her, trying to deal with the heat of your big cock in her burning pussy.

You carry Anna out of your living room, never pulling out of her as you take her into a hall full of mirrors. You pin her against the mirrors, letting her ride your cock as you watch it, sucking her tits. "Take this off," you tell her, putting Anna back on the ground as you pull her panties down, getting her fully naked for good. "Oh my God," you say as you worship her beautiful body from top to bottom, not sparing a single inch of it. You focus your attention on her pussy, pushing your tongue deep into her folds and then slowly moving up her body all the way to her tits.

"Do you want me to fuck in front of those mirrors?" you ask Anna. "Yes, Daddy," she obviously answers. "Say please," you reply to her. "Please, fuck me, daddy," she says. You turn her around, pushing your cock back in her pussy from behind and thrusting much faster this time. "HMMMMM," she moans as you can't resist the urge to pound that young pussy hard, even

"Look at you," you say to Anna as you fuck her hard in front of the mirror. You choke her a bit, letting her take a full look at her pretty face and sexy body as you take full ownership of her young slit. "You like this, you like watching daddy fuck you like a good little slut?" you ask her as you grab her tits. "Yes, I love that, Daddy," she says, lifting one of her legs for you to finger her pussy while you fuck her.

Your balls clap hard against Anna's cheeks as you increase the pace of your pounding. "HMMMMM, AHHHHHH," she moans, as you are completely addicted to her pussy. You slow down a bit to kiss her before fucking her hard one more time. "So good, so good," you say. You pull out and share some very hot kisses with Anna. "Go down," you tell her, letting her suck your cock full of her juices, looking in the mirror and enjoying both her beautiful face fully stuffed with your cock and her sexy back as she goes down your shaft, worshipping your balls and making slutty expressions for you.

"Let's go to my bedroom; I have much more to give you," you say to Anna. "I'll follow you everywhere you go, Daddy," she answers. In your bed, there is a gift containing one of the clothes you bought her at the mall. "Open it," you tell her, Anna obliging and unveiling a beautiful black lingerie.

"Put it on," you tell Anna, who starts dressing herself with the lingerie. "I'm ready to be a good girl for Daddy," she says. "You better be, because you look incredible wearing it, little black kitty," you tell her. "Meow," she purrs as you call her a cat.

You tie Anna's arms and give her ass soft spanks with a whip. "Yes, Daddy, spank me," she says. You tap right at her pussy, pulling the bottom of the lingerie to the side and sniffing her strawberry-flavored hole before making her lie on the bed and giving her tits a couple more spanks. "Oh fuck yes," she moans. You then move towards her beautiful legs, Anna spreading them wide open for you.

You grab Anna by her handcuffs. pinning her against the glass door that leads to the balcony. You give her tits a little massage and then start licking her pretty armpits as you tie her against the door. "Such a beautiful tits to show off to you daddy," you tell her, kissing Anna as you grope her boobs and then spanking them

"Oh yeah, Daddy," Anna moans as you grab her boobs together and suck them. "Let me see how sensitive they are," you say to her, hitting her nipples with your whip and grabbing them. You then move down and tease her pussy with the whip before pulling her panties down as you start pinching her pussy.

"You've got such a pretty little pussy," you tell Anna, playing with it and softly licking it. "I'll get it nice and wet for you, Daddy," you tell her as you put a pair of fingers inside. "Fuck," she moans as you work both your fingers and your tongue in her pussy, Anna moaning as you blow the air of your nostrils in her clit.

"Are you ready for more cock?" you ask Anna. "Yes, Daddy, give me more cock," she begs. You untie her. "Bend over," you tell Anna, who gets on all fours in your bed. "But first, I'm gonna eat more of that beautiful young pussy," you tell her.

You dive between Anna's cheeks and eat her out a little more. "Such a juicy young pussy, the way it should be," you praise her wet hole. "Thank you, Daddy," she says with another big smile, loving the way you worship her pussy. "Your tongue feels so good in my pussy, Daddy," she says. "How do I taste, Daddy?" she asks. "You taste wonderful," you tell her.

"Put your big cock back inside me, Daddy," Anna begs. You tease her a big one, rubbing your cock against her entrance before spreading her cheeks and slowly inserting it into her pussy. "Right there," you tell her. "OH FUCK," Anna moans as you grab her waist and insert it deeper.

"Go deep, Daddy," Anna begs as she spreads her cheeks for you. "Spread me open, Daddy, take that cock nice and deep in my pussy. I wanna feel every fucking inch of you, Daddy," she says. "Does that pussy feel good, Daddy?" she asks. "Of course.

You tease Anna a bit, taking your cock in and out of her pussy. "OH MY GOD, YES, YES, DADDY, FUCK MY LITTLE PUSSY, HARDER, PLEASE, MAKE ME CUM," she moans. You keep increasing the pace, grabbing her ass and kissing her back. "My pussy is so fucking wet for your big cock daddy; it's so fucking good inside me. Fill that little pussy with your big cock, Daddy," she begs.

"Spank me, Daddy, I love that," Anna says as you grab her ass and spank it. She starts fingering herself as your thrusts only get faster. "Please don't stop, Daddy, OH MY GOD," she keeps begging.

"YES DADDY, YES DADDY, FUCK ME, GIVE IT TO ME, NICE AND DEEP, GIVE ME THAT HARD FUCKING COCK IN MY PUSSY, DADDY," Anna moans. "Choke me, Daddy," she begs, you getting on top of her. "Fucking pound me, fucking pound me, Daddy; give me that fucking cock," Anna begs, moving her. "I'm daddy's little slut, use my little hole," she continues to beg as you grab her. "PLEASE DON'T FUCKING STOP, DADDY," she screams, putting her face down and ass up as you drive your cock deep down her pussy.

"FUCK DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, PLEASE, DADDY, I WANNA CUM," Anna tells you. "Then cum for your daddy," you tell her as you give Anna's ass the spanking that makes her explode, getting your bedsheets wet. "FUCK, I'M CUMMING," she screams. "Come taste your fucking pussy on daddy's cock again," you tell her.

"You're so kind for letting me taste that cock, daddy," Anna says as she drops on her knees to suck it. You grab her pretty face and start fucking her mouth as hard as possible. You make her choke on your cock, grabbing her long hair and. "Please, Daddy, fuck my throat," she begs as she closes her eyes and just lets you stuff your cock to the fullest inside her. "Look at this, I love the way you drool over daddy's cock" you say as Anna gets her mouth fully stuffed of it.

"Is that what you like?" you ask Anna. "Yes, daddy, my pussy tastes so good in daddy's cock," she answers as she gets back on the bed and strokes your cock against her body. "Your cock feels so good in my hands; I'm so wet, Daddy," she says. "Play with your pussy for Daddy," you tell her, watching her masturbate. "Show me that pink pussy for me," you command. "Look at how open it is for you, Daddy; it needs your cock back inside it," she says.

"Bad girl," you tell Anna, bending her in your lap and spanking her ass. "I love being a bad girl for daddy to spank me," she says as you keep hitting her ass. "Look how wet I am, she says, rubbing her pussy on your cock.

"Fuck, you're driving me so crazy," you tell Anna, getting on top of her and kissing her passionately. Anna wraps her arms around you and fingers her pussy. You put her in a spooning position, looking in her beautiful eyes as you go back to pound her wet pussy. "Rub me, Daddy, she begs as you reach to massage her pussy.

"Tell me how good my pussy feels, daddy," Anna says as her walls clench hard against your cock. "FUCK, YOU'RE COCK FEELS SO GOOD INSIDE ME, KEEP RUBBING MY CLIT, SHOVE THAT COCK INSIDE ME, DADDY," she begs. You alternate slow and fast thrusts. "In and out, just like that, Daddy, fuck me nice and hard," Anna begs. You attack her pussy faster. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum again," she moans, her legs quivering as you fuck her. "GIVE ME THAT BIG COCK, DADDY, IT FEELS SO GOOD INSIDE ME," she begs for more.

"Use my little pussy, Daddy; give it to me; I'm gonna cum," Anna moans as she closes her eyes and just lets you take her pussy to the fullest. "Please don't stop fucking me," she begs. You ramp up the intensity. "YES DADDY, YES DADDY, SPREAD ME OPEN WITH THAT HUGE COCK, YESSSS," Anna begs. You finger her clit hard and wrap your arms around her neck, giving her a romantic kiss as you show no mercy towards her pink little pussy.

"I'M YOUR NAUGHTY LITTLE SLUT, FUCK ME, YOUR DIRTY FUCKING WHORE DADDY, POUND MY LITTLE PUSSY," Anna begs as loud clapping sounds come out of your balls hitting her cheeks. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING FUCK," Anna screams loudly as you give her a leg-shaking orgasm that knocks her air out. You pull out and start fingering her pussy hard, enjoying her juices covering your bedsheet. "AHHHH FUCK," she screams, her legs quivering nonstop with your hard but precise touch.

You kiss Anna as you let her recover her breath. "Such a pretty girl," you praise her beauty again. "Do you wanna sit on Daddy's cock?" you ask Anna. "Of course," she answers as she gets on top of you and lets your shaft sink deep in her pussy. You let Anna freely bounce on your shaft, grabbing her tits and enjoying her pretty face making incredible expressions as she goes up and down it.

"Your cock looks so good inside me daddy, I love waching it disappear inside my little pussy, I'm so wet for you, daddy," Anna says as she keeps moving faster on your cock. "Let me use that dick, Daddy, just like that; you're making me so fucking wet," she says. You spank Anna's pretty face as she rides it. "Harder," you tell her.

"You like the way I grind on your big dick, don't you, Daddy?" Anna asks. You can't hold anymore, pumping her pussy upwards like crazy as soon as she says these words. "YES, FUCK ME, DADDY, PLEASE DON'T STOP," she begs as you pump your cock up her pussy like a piston, her tits jiggling nonstop. "HARDER, DADDY, PLEASE DON'T FUCKING STOP; FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER, HARDER. YES, DADDY, YES, DADDY," Anna begs, almost knocking your breath away.

You let Anna take a break as she deepthroats your cock to the fullest to taste herself on it. Quickly after that, she gets back on top of your big cock, tilting her body forward as she goes back to ride it. You soon spank her ass again. "Yes, Daddy, spank me, please," Anna says. She tries to squat on your cock, but you give her no chance to settle, attacking her pussy hard with fast thrusts as soon as she starts riding your dick again.

"FUCK YES, YES, YES, DADDDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, POUND ME HARD, DADDY, POUND ME UNTIL I CUM ALL OVER THAT BIG COCK, FUCK MY TIGHT LITTLE PUSSY, OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Anna screams as you grab her ass and clap her cheeks hard. "I'm so fucking open for you, daddy," she says as you spread her cheeks and tease her pussy going in and out of it slowly. "You love my little wet open pussy, Daddy," she says.

You choke Anna as you pound her pussy hard and deep. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she begs as she gets pounded like crazy. "I'm Daddy's little whore," she says. "CHOKE ME, DADDY, CHOKE ME," she begs as you increase the pressure on her neck. "RUB MY CLIT, FUCK ME HARD, DADDY," she continues to beg, you pounding her pussy like there's no tomorrow, almost making Anna lose her bounce. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, AHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," she moans.

"Suck it, dirty little young whore," you tell Anna as you finally stop pounding her. "What a nasty girl you are," you tell her as Anna dives her pretty face into your balls.

"Spread your legs," you tell Anna as you tap her entrance with your whip before eating her out a bit. "OH MY GOD, YES, DADDY, OH FUCK," she moans as you attack her creamy pussy and grope her tits, Anna sticking her tongue out as she gets her pink pussy worshipped one more time.

"GIVE ME MORE OF THAT FUCKING COCK, DADDY," Anna begs as you insert it back in her pussy in a missionary position. "It's your pussy, Daddy; take it all," she says. "Please chome me daddy," Anna begs, you grabbing her neck and fucking her hard and deep, spanking her face while kissing her.

"AHHHHHH," Anna moans as you use her pussy to the fullest, making your cock bulge under her belly and her tits bounce as you spread her legs and put her in a piledriver position in the bed. You slap her thighs a bit. "Fuck me daddy, I'm your naughty little girl, use my little pussy daddy, oh my god" she moans.

You lick Anna's pussy while her body stays upside down. "Yes daddy, lick my little pussy," she begs, fingering her clit and squirting in your face. "FUCKKKK," she moans as you worship her pink young hole. You put your cock back in her pussy, licking her feet as you start fucking her.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK THE SHITTY OUT OF ME, DADDY, I'M YOUR NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL, GIVE ME THAT BIG FUCKING COCK, DADDY" Anna screams as she fingers her clit while you put her pretty feet in her mouth. You pound Anna like crazy, choking her and slapping her face as she loses her breath. "OH FUCK," she screams, panting hard after your rough fucking.

You flip Anna around. taking her pussy from behind in a prone bone position, going so deep she needs to bite the bedsheets to cope with the heat. "FUCK ME NICE AND HARD, DADDY," she begs. You do just as she wants. "Pull my hair, Daddy," she begs, you following, Anna rolling her eyes as her walls clench hard around your cock.

"Use my little whore pussy, Daddy; you fucking love it, don't you?" Anna asks. Indeed you love it; you haven't fucked a pussy this good in years. That young girl is so amazing you don't want to stop. And neither does she, as Anna begs you to keep fucking her. You give more spanks on her ass. "I'M COMING, DADDY," she screams. You slow down, kissing Anna's pretty face and enjoying her creaming all over your cock, before increasing the speed and making her roll her eyes and her legs quiver with hard, deep thrusts inside her. "FUCK, DADDY, YESSSS," she blissfully screams.

"My pussy is so fucking open, Daddy," Anna tells you. "Then sit on my face and let me eat it," you answer her. "Yes daddy, I'll do whatever you say, I'll do whatever you want me to, I'm daddy's little whore," she says, grinding her pussy in your face. "Your pussy is so fucking wet," you tell her, groping Anna's tits as you eat her out. "Right, Daddy," she says.

Anna walks to the mirror in your bedroom. "Want to try this again? Watch your beautiful pussy get pounded by daddy's big cock?" you ask her. "Yes, Daddy," she answers. You get Anna on her knees close to the mirror and start rubbing your cock against her pretty face. She licks your shaft alongside the mirror's glass before you grab her neck and put her back on her feet.

You take your cock back inside Anna's dripping wet slit and start fucking Anna vigorously from behind in the mirror. You grab her head and look at her pretty face as she moans and screams, out of breath with your fast thrusts. "IT'S YOUR PUSSY, DADDY, IT'S YOUR PUSSY, I'M ALL YOURS, I'M DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE, FUCK ME HARD." Anna screams as you pound her nonstop, grabbing her hair and pulling it down as you attack her pretty young pussy.

"That's what you want, don't you?" you ask Anna. "YES, DADDY, THAT'S WHAT I WANT. FUCK ME HARD, PLEASE," she answers. You pin her against the mirror. "Put your tongue out," you tell her, making Anna lick the mirror as she makes it foggy with her breath. You lift one of her legs, grabbing it as you kiss her and intensify the speed of your thrusts. "YES, FUCK ME, DADDY," she screams before your kisses muffle her screams. Anna clings to the mirror. "FUCK ME HARD, DADDY, I'M YOUR DIRTY FUCKING WHORE, YES, DADDY, YES, DADDY, PLEASE DON'T STOP," she begs.

"OH YEAH, RUB THAT CLIT FOR ME, DADDY. OH YEAH, PUT THAT FINGER IN MY ASS," Anna begs as you use one of your hands to finger her pussy while shoving that thumb on your other hand up her asshole. "DON'T STOP, DADDY, GIVE EVERY INCH OF THAT COCK TO ME, YES," she keeps begging as her body shakes with your rough pounding. You passionately kiss her, giving her ass some good spanking too. "Look at that pretty face," you say as you watch her getting obliterated in front of the mirror.

"Tell me what you are," you ask Anna. "I'M DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE," she promptly answers. "Use my little pussy until you cum, daddy," she begs. "Please, Daddy, cum all over my face," she continues to beg. You pull out and tell Anna to kiss her reflection in the mirror. "Kiss that fucking whore," you say to her, stroking your cock as you prepare to unload in her pretty face.

"I'm gonna cum on both these whores," you tell Anna, referring to her reflection. "Yes, please, cum for me, daddy," she begs. You unload right between her face and the mirror, covering both of them up as your cum paints a cat's whisker on Anna's face. "Clean it up," you tell her, Anna licking every last drop of cum that fell onto the mirror like the good girl she is. "Your face looks even prettier with my cum all over it," you tell her.

"Thank you, Daddy; it looks like I was a good girl to deserve this much cum," Anna says as she sucks your cock one last time and. "Are you satisfied now, Daddy?" she asks. "Yes," you answer her. "You love my little pussy, don't you?" she asks again, grabbing your cum from her face and swallowing it down. "Yes, the best pussy I've ever had in years," you tell her.

"Well, you can have me anytime you want," Anna says as she prepares to get back home. She had already gotten her clothes ready and grabbed your gifts and was ready to leave until you heard a voice coming from downstairs.

"Dad, I'm back home."

"Fuck, my daughter has arrived. I have to hide you, Anna."

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waterproofwater0 · 2 months ago

Text

(ch. 5) Educating Mommy Eunbi

"Oh yeah, that's it, Mom," I said, kneeling next to my mother's gorgeous naked body and pointing my engorged prick at her pretty face. "Just open those sweet lips of yours and I'll fill that mouth with a nice big load." With my hand wrapped in a warm loving corridor around my throbbing erection, I thought back on what had happened in the last little while......

After she'd sucked me off for the first time, she let me know she wanted to do it again. I was only too happy to comply, but I needed a few minutes to recharge. I'd laid her back on her bed, flipped up the little flounce of that sexy chemise I'd gotten her, whipped off her panties and eaten her through two tingling orgasms. As she lay there panting and gasping, I'd pulled the sexy little garment totally off of her, exposing those spectacular massive breasts of hers. I'd slipped my lips over one thick rubbery nipple and started to suck, my fingers finding their way between her legs and into that nice steamy honey pot of hers. I sucked and licked at those tremendous tits as I fingered her through another shuddering release, my slumbering member slowly coming back to life.

With the blood flowing warmly to my stiffening dick, I switched positions with her and told her to just take her time. She'd been lovingly sucking me for over half an hour, and now I was ready to cum. I drew my surging prick out of her vacuuming mouth and flipped her over onto her back as I scrambled out from beneath her. With her lying on her back panting hungrily, I shifted close to her lovely face on my knees and looked down at those soft red lips as she breathed raggedly, those full bee-stung pillows looking swollen and puffy from her enthusiastic sucking.

And so that is how I got to this position, on my knees with my rock-hard cock pointing at my busty mother's pretty face, my hand stroking vigorously back and forth................

"Oh yeah, that's it, Mom. Just open those sweet lips of yours and I'll fill that mouth with a nice big load," I'd just said. She eagerly opened her mouth into a nice big "O", a perfect target for my incestuous lust. The delicious twinges started in my midsection as I felt the boiling semen speed up the shaft of my pulsing erection. I inched closer on my knees as I hovered over her, the enflamed head an inch or two away from her parted lips as I stroked insistently back and forth.

"UNH.......UNH......HERE IT COMES!" I warned, pointing the wet red eye between those pouty lips just as the first thick milky rope spat forth. I watched it jettison deep into the warm recesses of her mouth, the long strand finding a welcoming home on her waiting tongue. I continued to pump as a second long ribbon spewed from the tingling tip, catching briefly on her upper lip before falling in a gathering pool deep in her hot oral cavity.

"OHHNNGGHH," she gave a little moan of pleasure as I continued to flood her mouth, shot after shot of creamy semen shooting forth between her parted lips. I kept stroking as I totally unloaded, filling my mother's mouth with gob upon gob of thick milky paste. Finally, the last tingling twinges went through me as a quaking shudder ran down my spine. With my hand still wrapped around my throbbing dick, I looked down at her. I'd tried to shoot it directly into her hungry mouth, but her lower face was spackled with a little collateral damage, pearly gobs of cum clinging to her lips and the smooth skin around her mouth.

"Let's make sure you get it all," I said, using my beefy dick as a snowplow as I pushed the milky seed into her welcoming mouth.

"Mmmmmm," she purred as she closed her lips about my warm cockhead and sucked gently, her soft lips feeling heavenly against the sensitive tissues as she tenderly nursed, drawing out every last drop of my manly cream.

"Oh Jesus, Mom," I said, reaching down and stroking her face lovingly as I continued to let her nurse at my dwindling prick, "you can really suck." Her eyes flicked up to mine for a second, a look of pure bliss shining from deep within those languid pools.

I was surprised at how fast she'd taken to cock-sucking, with this being her first time, and all. She was a natural at it, and I could tell she loved it. It seemed like forever that I had dreamed and fantasized about my mother blowing me, and now, it was ending up better than I had ever imagined. I felt like I could just kneel over her forever like this and just let her suck, but I was so tired after everything that had happened today, I knew I needed to sleep soon before I collapsed right on top of her. I reluctantly withdrew my deflating rod from between her sucking lips and started to lie down beside her.

"Oh," she said with a mild tone of disappointment in her voice.

"That's okay, Mom. I'll have some more for you tomorrow. Right now, I'm whipped."

"I know; me too, Sweetie," she replied as I pulled the blankets over us as I snuggled up next to her. I kissed the back of her head and reached over, plunging the room into darkness as I flicked off the light.

"Thanks for everything today, Andy," she whispered softly. "And thanks for saying those things to your father. I'm so proud of you."

"I meant every word I said. I promise you, Mom, I won't let him talk about you or treat you like that ever again."

She paused for a second, both of us thinking about how our relationship had changed. It was quickly becoming clear to both of us that I was going to be the man in her life, hopefully with my father to soon become a distant memory. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mom; more than ever." I slid my arm around her, my hand cupping her huge breasts as we lay on our sides, her warm back nestled into my front. The last thing I remember was her hand gently squeezing mine as I cupped one heavy orb, granting me permission to do with her as I wished. As I thought about how perfect our new life would be.......sleep overtook me..........

"Mmmmmmm, that smells good," I thought to myself, the scent of frying sausages and freshly-brewed coffee drifting warmly into my senses. I slowly came awake, my eyes flickering open as I remembered where I was, slumberous confusion rapidly giving way to reality. "Yes, I am definitely in my mother's bed," I thought with contentment as I looked at the warm morning light drifting in around the curtains. The smell of that food though wasn't to be denied, and I felt my stomach grumbling in need as I pushed the covers off me.

With my piss hard-on leading the way, I got up and made my way to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I made use of the facilities, then sluggishly meandered down to my old room where I found a pair of loose boxers and an old t-shirt. Donning my fab-gear, I followed the warm scents to the kitchen, where I spotted my mother standing by the stove, dressed in a thick plush housecoat.

"Good morning," I said as I walked over and wrapped my arms around her, nestling my face into the soft hollow of her neck and kissed her. Her skin there was as soft as a butterfly's wing, and sinfully warm.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she replied as she tilted her head to let my lips explore more of her inviting neck. I loved it when she called me Sunshine. She'd been doing it forever, and it was one of those special little things between the two of us. Holding her like this, with my arms wrapped around her full mature body, my face and lips nestled against hers, I felt like I was bathing in sunshine; everything was absolutely perfect in my world. "You looked so peaceful sleeping. I tried to be quiet and not wake you when I got up. I figured you'd be hungry so I got some things started."

"Mmmmm, it smells great, Mom; almost as good as you feel," I said playfully as I slipped a hand inside her robe and cupped one of those massive September Carrino-like tits of hers.

"Stop that, Andy," she replied with a smirk as she playfully swatted at my hand with the spatula.

"Not a chance." I turned her in my arms and kissed her, her lips warm and responsive against mine, my hand slipping further inside her robe and hefting one glorious mound.

"Don't you ever get enough?" she asked as she coyly pushed me away and turned back to the stove, a mischievous little smile on her face.

"I never get enough of you, Mom." I grabbed a mug from the cupboard as she dropped some eggs into a frying pan and got some toast underway.

"There's some yogurt and fruit for you in the fridge," she said with a motherly tone in her voice. "You need to eat more fruit and vegetables."

"Yes, Mother." The scolded 27-year old child pulled out the bowl of fruit with yogurt poured over it that she'd prepared for me. I dug in, the cool sensation and natural flavors tasting wonderful after our night of mother/son frolicking. I was just finishing up when the rest of the food was ready and she set a steaming plate of sausages, toast and eggs in front of me. She sat down with her own plate and we both attacked the warm delicious food ravenously, the hunger inside us needing more than just each other to survive.

"Satisfied?" she asked as she gathered up our finished plates and put them in the dishwasher.

Her question about my level of satisfaction was obviously directed at my hunger, but as I watched those heavy round tits of hers sway beneath her robe, I felt a twinge in my cock as my mind went to other areas......that weren't so satisfied. I decided right there on the spot to continue with my mother's new education. "That was great, Mom, thanks. But as far as whether I'm satisfied or not, that's a different matter."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Honey, would you like me to make you something else?" she replied innocently.

"No. Sit down for a minute, Mom." I waited until she took the chair next to me before continuing. "Remember when you said before that you know a young man my age has certain needs?"

"Yes." I could see the interest in what I had to say in her blue eyes.

"Well, one thing that happens with a guy my age is that we wake up every morning with a hard-on."

"Really?" she replied, a definite tone of surprise in her voice.

"Yeah. It can kind of slowly go down after we go to the bathroom, but most guys, including me, like to get a load off first thing in the morning." I paused for a second as she looked at me wide-eyed.

"I......I had no idea," she stumbled over her words as her eyes flicked down to the crotch of my boxers, my semi-hard prick lurking beneath the surface as I could feel it slowly continuing to stiffen.

"Yep. Every morning when I wake up, it's standing up, nice and hard." Her eyes flicked down to my midsection again and I saw her gulp noticeably. "I reach into my night table, scoop up a gob of Vaseline and wrap my hand around it." She seemed mesmerized by my words, exactly as I'd hoped.

"And do you know what I think about when I do it every morning?" She slowly shook her head, her eyes flicking down to the growing swell starting to strain against the confining material of my shorts.

"I think about you, Mom." Her face flushed a brilliant pink, her mouth opening invitingly as she gasped out loud in surprise. I slid my rear-end forward so I was leaning back in my seat, my swelling crotch prominently on display. "Only you know what the problem is?" She could only shake her head, totally speechless as she sat transfixed, staring at the thickening stalk pushing against soft material of my boxers.

"The problem is that I didn't get to do that this morning." I paused for a few seconds, watching a fine sheen of perspiration come over her flushed pretty face, her breath coming in rapid little gasps from between those full red lips of hers. "It would have been even better if you'd done it for me, Mom." She was staring blatantly at my rising cock now, the long tube lifting the worn material away from my abdomen. She seemed in a trance, totally transfixed by the lewd hypnotic display of my stiffening erection and my lilting voice. I continued, speaking softly in a lulling tone. "Yes, every morning when we're together, I'd like you to wake me up by using either your mouth or hands on me." I paused again, letting my words settle into her brain. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said compliantly, her voice nothing more than a whisper. I sat calmly, her eyes flicking up to mine briefly before returning to the pronounced bulge in my shorts.

"That's a good girl," I said, my voice warm with praise. "Now, since I haven't cum yet today, why don't you go, get the Vaseline and take care of this for me?" She simply nodded and made her way towards the bedroom, her body moving as if in a trance.

As soon as she left the room, I grabbed a shallow bowl from the cupboard, spooned some strawberries into it from the fridge and set the bowl on the table behind my coffee cup, partially hidden from view. I slouched back into my seat and spread my legs, my throbbing prick almost bursting through the buttoned fly of my boxers. I got in position just in time as she returned; the big jar of Baby-Fresh Vaseline in her hand.

"Just sit there, Mom," I said as I used my foot to pull the leg of her chair over so it was positioned between my spread thighs. She compliantly sat in the chair and set the jar of lube of on the table, her face flushed with excitement. "That's good. Now take your robe off." She slipped the plush robe off her shoulders so it fell over the chair behind her. I was happy to see she was totally naked beneath, those massive 32Gs looking so round and heavy as they covered the full breadth of her chest, the big nipples looking dark and swollen with need.

"Take my shorts off for me." She reached forward and I lifted my hips as she drew my boxers down, the waistband catching momentarily on the swollen knob before she tugged it clear, the stiff lance unfurling and rearing up before her. She gave a sharp intake of breath as she dropped my shorts, her mouth opening warmly as her tongue ran out unconsciously and circled wetly around her full red lips.

"Now scoop out some of the Vaseline and rub your hands together. Get them nice and warm for me." She obeyed instantly, popping the lid off the jar and lifting out a generous gob with her fingers. She put her hands together and I watched as the gooey lube quickly warmed and became a clear glistening thing of beauty as she rubbed her slender fingers back and forth over each other.

"That's good, now take my cock in your hands and just work it nice and slow; just like you did when you used your mouth on me. There's no need to hurry." I leaned back in my chair as I watched her lean forward slightly, those spectacular tits of hers swaying under their tremendous weight as her two small hands circled my long thick cock near the base, one hand over the other. She gripped it firmly, and I felt her give a small loving twist, letting her hands get used to the feeling. She then slowly started to slide her slick hands upwards, both of them moving in unison.

"Oh yeah, that's it," I said softly. Just as she had when she'd used her mouth on me, she was doing it perfectly. She had just the right amount of firmness in her grip to produce a sublimely pleasurable level of friction; not too tight and not too loose .....just right. I could see from the look on her face that she was as excited as I was at performing this wickedly lewd act in her own kitchen; a mother giving a slow torturous handjob to her loving son. The nastiness of the illicit incestuous act was not lost on me either; it only fueled my ardor even more.

"Oh Mom, that's so good," I groaned as she started to move her hands in an exquisitely wonderful corkscrewing motion up and down on my swollen pecker. She was doing just as I asked, taking her time, doing it nice and slow, but covering every square inch of my rearing shaft from the tip to the hilt with her hot slippery hands. I looked down at those massive tits of hers, swaying and bobbing deliciously as her hands worked up and down on my surging erection. Her nipples looked huge; engorged with blood, they seemed to be calling out for my mouth. But that would have to come later. Now, I was close to exploding already, and I knew exactly where I wanted to put this load of cum.

"I'm almost there, Mom. Just keep doing it nice and slow," I said as I reached over and pulled the bowl of strawberries from behind my cup and brought it forward.

"Wha....?" she started to ask.

"Just keep stroking it like that, but point the head at the bowl." I slouched down just a bit more and brought the bowl to my midsection as she stroked upwards, the engorged head of my cock just an inch or two away from the bowl. I tilted the edge of the bowl slightly downwards, putting it in the perfect position to catch my upcoming load. I could see her wet lips parted and gasping as she mercilessly stroked my rampant hard love-muscle, her hot slippery hands moving smoothly back and forth. I felt those telltale twinges as the contractions started in my midsection, my climax mere seconds away.

"OH FUCK, MOM, I'M GONNA CUM," I warned just as the boiling semen sped up the shaft of my throbbing prick. We both watched as the glistening red eye filled with pearly seed for a split-second before a long milky strand shot forth, plastering itself appetizingly over the bright red berries. Her hands continued their jacking movements as a second, and then a third silvery strand shot forth, the viscous fluid landing salaciously on the cool pieces of fruit.

"Oh my," she whispered breathlessly as she watched me cum, strand after strand of thick sperm-laden semen spewing forth into the bowl. She kept her slippery warm hands moving smoothly back and forth, pumping out gob upon gob as I totally unloaded, my stomach quivering with each delicious orgasmic contraction. A final tingling shudder scurried down my spine as the last tremors of a wonderful climax ran through my body. She slowed her stroking hands until they came to a stop, her fingers continuing to just hold me warmly. Like everything else we'd done sexually, she instinctively seemed to know just what to do. Yes, she definitely was the perfect lover, and being my mother just made it all that much better.

"Now that's a perfect way to start the day," I said as I set the bowl of cum-covered berries on the table.

"Did you really like that?" she asked insecurely. "Did I do it right?"

"You did it perfectly, Mom. It couldn't have been any better." I paused for a couple of seconds, watching the warm smile come over her face before I continued. "But remember, that's how I should be starting my day; in bed, when I first wake up. Okay?"

"Okay, I'll remember next time."

"Good. Now since you did such a good job, here's your reward," I said as I slid the bowl of fruit in front of her. We both looked down, my pearly semen clinging to the bright red berries in milky gobs and ribbons. "Here, I'll feed it to you." I grabbed the spoon and lifted one big berry, the surface almost covered with my creamy cum.

"Open wide," I said as I brought the spoon forward. She compliantly opened her mouth and I slipped the spoon between her parted lips. She closed her lips and drew the cummy treat into her warm mouth as I drew the spoon away. I watched as she savored the masculine flavor on her tongue for a few minutes before swallowing, her eyes closing in pleasure as the creamy semen slid down her throat.

"Mmmmmm," she purred as the silky fluid made its way to a nice warm spot in the pit of her stomach.

"Did you like that?" I asked, teasingly drawing the bowl further away, her lust-filled eyes never leaving the spunk-covered berries.

"Would you like some more?" I put another strawberry on the spoon, the surface glistening with my milky ball-juice. I tantalizing waved the spoon slowly in front of hers, her eyes following it hypnotically as her lips opened in wanton anticipation.

"Yes," she responded, starting to lean forwards towards the hovering spoon.

"Yes what?" I said firmly.

"Yes....please?" she replied, her big doe-like eyes looking at me questioningly.

"That's a good girl." I gave her a nod of approval and a warm smile as I brought the spoon forward and slipped it back between her waiting lips.

"Mmmmm." She gave another little satisfied mew of gratification as she savored the semen-laden offering. I watched her roll it around in her mouth before swallowing, the smooth muscles in her throat contracting sensually.

"Would you like the rest?"

"Yes, please." There was no hesitation with the 'please' this time. I liked the way my mother was learning.

"Okay, but sit back down in your chair first." She instantly obeyed, sitting in the kitchen chair, her huge tits sitting nice and full on her chest, the large rubbery nipples pointing straight towards me. "That's my girl; now sit forward a little bit so you're right at the front edge of your seat." Again, she readily obeyed, shifting forward until she was perched on the very edge of her seat.

"That's good. Now spread your legs." She paused for a second before complying, her legs slowly rolling open to each side. When her knees got partway open, she stopped. "Further," I instructed; my voice firm and resolute. She didn't hesitate this time, spreading her legs as far apart as they could go. My eyes were fixed on that intoxicatingly perfect pussy of hers as her legs rolled open, the shiny pink lips opening up before me like the soft petals of an exotic flower. I could see that she was incredibly wet, her inviting labial curtains glistening with her flowing juices. The room, which only moments ago carried the aroma of comforting food, now reeked of sex; my big load of fresh semen and the invigorating womanly scent of her cunt-honey filling the air.

I reached into the bowl and drew out another cum-covered berry with my fingers. Her hungry eyes watched me intently as I brought the spunk-laden piece of fruit forwards and rubbed it across one swollen nipple.

"Aaaahhh," she gave a sharp intake of breath as we both looked down at the slimy fluid clinging to the rubbery bud of her nipple as I drew the berry away. I went to her other stiff thrusting nipple and did the same, both of them now shining with a healthy gob of my manly juice. I brought the berry up between us; she immediately opened her lips and I popped it inside. She chewed daintily, letting the succulent flavors roll over her taste-buds before swallowing.

"Do you want that?" I asked, nodding towards the sizable gobs of milky seed clinging to her stiff nipples, the silvery fluid looking wickedly exciting as it clung to the deep red tips of her breasts.

"Yes, please." Again I was happy to see that she hadn't hesitated with the 'please'.

I reached forward and took both of her hands in mine and placed them on the underside of her big heavy tits. "Go ahead, it's all yours," I said as I pressed her hands slightly upwards before drawing my hands away, clearly indicating what I wanted her to do. She didn't have to be told twice, slipping both hands beneath her massive right tit and lifting it towards her mouth, her lips opening to take the cum-covered nipple. At the same time as her lips latched onto the spunk-covered bud, I slipped my hands between her legs, my fingers sliding deep into her hot wet trench.

"Mmmmhhhnnnnn," she moaned as my fingers made their way deep into her. She started to squirm already, her excitement readily apparent. She made a wet sucking sound as her lips drew firmly on the engorged button of her nipple, her eyes closed in pleasure. Knowing she was close, I spun my fingers in a slow torturous circle deep inside her, my stimulating fingers rubbing warmly all over the hot wet tissues of her velvety love-pocket.

"OH ANDY.......AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH," she groaned loudly as she started to cum. Her eyes were glazed over and she quivered and shook on the chair, a deep vaginal orgasm rocking her lush mature body. I kept my fingers busy as she twitched and moaned, and then I slowed as her climax subsided. With one out of the way, I could tell she was ready for another. She switched tits, hefting the heavy round orb of her left breast up, tilting the cummy nipple up towards her wet parted lips. Her hot mouth closed wetly on the delightful red button and as she started to wetly suck, I slipped another finger inside her. I took her to another orgasm as she licked and sucked my warm cum off her tits. When she finally released her massive breast, I passed her the bowl. She eagerly fed herself the remaining semen-covered berries as I worked her over with my fingers, making her cum three more times before I finally withdraw my hands from between her widely-spread legs, her body now leaning against the back of the chair, her round curvy body quivering and exhausted from her climaxes.

"See, Mom," I said as I sat back and looked at her exhausted but deliciously satisfied body, "that's the kind of thing that can happen when I start my day in a good mood."

"Oh my gosh, Andy, that was so exciting. I loved it." She slowly regained her strength as I poured each of us another cup of coffee, pulling her robe back around her as she sat forward in her chair. We both took a big drink of the strong coffee, the caffeine acting like an intravenous resuscitation device as it fed through our systems.

"Andy, would you....would you come to church with me tomorrow?"

I knew it was hard for her to ask me to do this. She knew the way I felt, not only about religion in general, but about her specific church, and the two-faced nitwits that inhibited the place. But for all that had happened between us in the last few days, I wasn't about to deny her. It also occurred to me that this might be a chance for me to show her what these people were like, that they were taking advantage of her good nature, that she didn't need them. "Sure, I'll go; no problem."

"Oh, good," she said, positively gushing with happiness as she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"On one condition," I replied as I held up my index finger.

"What?"

"You have to let me buy you something new to wear for tomorrow."

"I love everything you've bought me so far, but I'm not sure if some of those things would be appropriate for church," she answered hesitantly.

"Mom, trust me, have I Iet you down so far?"

"Well, no."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you have something appropriate. You know how I know you'll approve?"

"How?"

"Because we're going shopping together; that's how. There're some other things I want to get you too. Remember I promised to get you a new bathing suit, right?"

"Andy, really; you don't have to do that."

"No, I insist. And while we're out, we'll get you something nice to wear to church tomorrow. Okay?"

She beamed with happiness, a warm smile on her face. "Okay."

"Now, we both slept in a little bit...."

"I wonder why?" she interrupted me, a devilish twinkle in her eye.

I paused for a second as I looked at her, a warm smile spreading across my face. "Like I said, we both slept in a little, so the stores will be open. Let's get ready."

"What should I wear?" She asked this innocently, once more looking to me for guidance. Perfect. Yes, this education of my mother was coming along just fine. I thought back to the things I'd already gotten her, and pretty much anything would have looked great on that spectacular body of hers, but my mind immediately went to one of my favorites.

"How about that cherry-red sleeveless turtleneck and the denim mini?"

"Okay, that should be nice."

"And the blue satin bra and panties underneath," I said, feeling my recently-spent dick give a little twitch as I thought about those sexy garments.

"Alright."

I made her go and take a shower in her own en-suite bathroom while I hit the one in the main bath I'd used when I'd lived there. I knew if we showered together again, feeling that amazing body of hers under my soapy hands, we'd probably never get out of the house all day. As much as I actually wanted nothing more than that, I knew there'd be time for more of that later. I wanted to take her out, to make her feel special, to let her shop as much as she wanted; something my fucking old man never did for her.

I ended up putting on the same clothes I'd worn over yesterday. They were still in reasonable shape and I knew I'd have to head home at some point today anyways; I'd have to get some decent clothes to wear to church when I went with her tomorrow.

"I guess I'm ready." Her soft voice drew my attention as she emerged from her room. Man, was I ever glad I'd gotten these new clothes for her. She looked fantastic. The denim miniskirt hugged her full behind and firm thighs beautifully; the hem ending halfway down those smooth creamy thighs. Her little flat white sandals looked charming on her delicate feet and went with the whole casual outfit. But her top.....it was the top that made the whole outfit; combined of course with what she had underneath it to fill out such a top. The brilliant cherry-red ribbed turtleneck looked amazing; the vivid color a scintillatingly jolting blow to the eye as it contrasted nicely with her smooth tanned skin. The top hugged her magnificent bust wonderfully, the vertical ribs flaring in and out seductively as they caressed every flowing contour of her voluptuous form.

"Oh, Mom, you look great," I said as I walked around her and took in the spectacular view from every angle. "Ready to go shopping for more?"

"Are you sure, Andy? Really, we don't have to do this," she protested, but I knew she was loving the idea.

"Mom, that's enough of that. Like I said; I want to do this for you. You deserve this, trust me."

"You're such a good son," she replied, giving me quick peck on the cheek. "Okay, let's go."

I drove to a large mall out by the airport, knowing it had a mixture of shops that would suit our needs for today. It was hard to concentrate on driving; my eyes seemed to be pulled in her direction continually. It was hard enough on my willpower just helping her in and out of the car, my eyes drawn like magnets to her shapely legs as her skirt rode well up on her thighs as she got in and out of her seat.

We had a great time shopping together; it had been a long time since I'd seen her laugh and smile so much. She took my arm and we walked through the mall like lovers, talking and laughing easily, happy just to be with each other.

We went to one of the more expensive ladies stores first, picking out a couple of outfits suitable for her to wear to church or out to dinner, that kind of thing. As expected, she protested about the cost at first, but her reluctance quickly gave way to excitement when I insisted that it was my treat for her for all the things she'd ever done for me. She got that knowing twinkle in her eyes and flushed bright pink when I said, "And that especially goes for what you've done for me this weekend too."

Our second stop was another clothing store that carried a wider variety of styles. Here she picked out everything from blouses to dress pants, skirts, shorts, t-shirts and even some jeans, something she'd rarely worn under my dad's regime. She loved it all; and I loved showering her with the gifts. I left her in the shoe store while I made a quick trip to the car with the numerous packages we already had. I returned and we ended up picking up a number of different pairs of shoes, ones that we knew would match perfectly with some of the outfits we'd just purchased.

"Okay, Mom," I said as we left the shoe store, once more loaded down with packages, "time to go to the bathing suit store."

"Oh, Andy," she said, catching me off guard by stopping up short. I turned and looked at her, totally confused.

"What is it?"

"It's just......it's just" she started out stammering, and then made a small nod towards her sizable chest, "it's just that with these, it's always embarrassing trying to find a bathing suit that fits properly."

"Mom," I said as I took her hand comfortingly in mine and gave her a warm smile, "when we get home, remind me to show you some pictures on the internet of September Carrino, and how great she looks in bathing suits."

"September who?"

"September Carrino. She's a model who's built just like you, and she looks fantastic in bathing suits. I'll show you on my laptop when we get home. Now c'mon."

She stumbled slightly as I pulled her along, but she was smiling by the time we entered the store. Once again, she protested vehemently but I ended up getting my way and we left with four different suits for her. She insisted on buying one for me from the men's section, and we agreed on a nice pair of loose-fitting bright yellow trunks.

I dropped her and the numerous packages at home, with the promise that I would return in short order after going home and getting some clothes to wear to church. I also planned on making another stop at The Cat's Pajamas and visit my favorite sales clerk, Jessica, but my mother didn't need to know that just now. She'd find out about those purchases in due course, some of them a little later today; I was sure of that.

I got to my place and checked my messages, the only one being from my best friend and free-lance journalist, Connor Young, aka 'The Face-Painter', which I would learn sometime later. He was just checking in to see what I was up to for the weekend. I hadn't talked to him in the last few days so I changed into some clean clothes, then gave him a call.

"Adelson, you festering douchebag, how are you?" were the first words I heard after Connor answered the phone.

"I'm good, pencil-dick. How about you?"

"Couldn't be better. What are you up to?"

"Helping my mom with some stuff around the house. Plus, she talked me into going to church with her tomorrow."

"Ooooh, that's gotta hurt. I thought you were trying to talk her out of going there. Are those people still trying to milk some of that inheritance money out of her?"

"Yeah, they come up with these imaginary 'projects' every now and then that they need funding for. And they always seem to hit on her. I'm actually hoping that when we go tomorrow, I might get some information that I can use to convince her to leave."

"Good luck with that; I know she's been there a long time."

"What are you doin'?"

"I'm working on this article for the magazine. As usual, Morrissey is riding my ass." I knew from a number of our previous discussions that Morrissey was the editor of the magazine that Connor was currently doing some work for. "But on a cheerier note, I've got a date with sweet young co-ed tonight. Why don't you see if the home for the blind has any women willing to go out with you and join us tonight; it'll be fun."

Our good-natured ribbing never ended, and I smiled to myself before answering, knowing the 'fun' I'd be having with my mother while he was out trying to score with his pretty little college girl. "I hate to disappoint all those needy sightless women at the home, but I promised my mom I'd help her do some stuff. While I'm slaving away, it looks like you'll just have to have my fun for me."

"Sucker." Little did he know my mom would be the one doing the sucking, and I wasn't ready to tell him that just yet. "Okay, well, we should really get together sometime soon. It's been awhile. What's your week like?"

"I've got a number of projects this week. That one at The Mirage is gonna be a bitch. If we can't hook up before the end of the week, why don't we try to make sure we go to Gabriel's on Friday?" I said, suggesting the name of our favorite Spanish restaurant.

"Right now, that should work for me. We'll be in touch during the week anyways."

"Okay, sounds good. Good luck on that date tonight, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Oh yeah, what the fuck does that mean? You'd fuck a snake if you could get low enough to the ground."

"Well, as long as it wasn't poisonous, I can't deny that." We both chuckled at that and hung up, promising to stay in touch again before the end of the week.

I gathered up a few things for the rest of the weekend, some casual clothes and a few toiletries. Knowing my mother liked to dress up for church, I pulled out a nice charcoal grey Italian suit I loved, a nice tie and a pair of black lace-up dress shoes. Loading the stuff back into my car, I headed for The Cat's Pajamas, anxious to pick up a few more items that would be my treat for the weekend. Yes, seeing my mother in that sexy lingerie never ceased to make my little buddy stand up and salute.

"So, how's my favorite customer," Jessica said as I spotted her across the store and started walking towards her. She looked great, a gorgeous white blouse tucked into a form-fitting black pencil skirt that ended a few inches above her dimpled knees. My eyes followed her tanned legs down to pair of 4" black pumps. The sexy shoes a perfect complement to the business-type outfit.

"I'm great. I've come for more of your valuable assistance."

"Ah, so the girlfriend has been happy with the things you've gotten for her so far?"

"She's loved them....and so have I," I said giving her a conspiratorial wink.

She smiled back. "So, looking for anything specific today?"

"Well, we have a function to go to tomorrow, and she's going to need something in white to go with the outfit she has in mind."

"Okay. So what did you have in mind?"

"Where are the merry widows?"

Our eyes met and she gave me a mischievous grin before she turned on her heel and beckoned me with a crooked finger. "Right this way. Size 32G, right?"

About half an hour later, I left the store, once more laden down with numerous packages. Once I got back to my mother's, I hauled in all my stuff, including the case with my laptop. I found my mother just finishing up getting lunch together for us, looking as happy as I've ever seen her, dressed in a new pair of white shorts and a bright yellow V-necked t-shirt that hugged her curvy form magnificently, the V providing a teasing glimpse into that deep dark cleavage of hers.

"You're just in time to eat," she said as she came up and gave me a little peck on the lips. She looked down at the new packages I was depositing on the table. "What have you got there?"

"Just a few more things from the lingerie store that I think you should have."

"Oh Andy, you shouldn't have," she replied, her fingers tracing over one curly strip of ribbon tying one package together, "but I love that you did. Can I see?"

"Later, I'm starving." I picked her up in my arms and twirled her around.

"Put me down," she said helplessly, laughing like a schoolgirl as I spun her around before setting her back on her feet.

"What's for lunch?"

"I made a nice big salad and sliced up some cold chicken for sandwiches. It's such a beautiful day, I figured we could eat out by the pool."

"That sounds great. You want me to get some drinks?" I said as I opened the fridge door.

"Yes. There's a pitcher of ice tea." She paused for a second and looked at me, her face stern as she watched me pull a bottle of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge. "Andrew Alexander Adelson, you put that back, right now."

"What?" I asked, holding my hands out innocently.

"You drink far too much of that stuff. Now put it back. You can drink ice tea with your lunch."

"Yes mother." Like a misbehaving child being scolded, I petulantly put the bottle back in the fridge, grabbed the pitcher along with two glasses and carried it outside.

Our backyard pool area was totally secluded; the fence and a number of large mature trees providing total privacy. Even my mom, with her conservative reserved nature, had always felt safe and secure sunbathing or swimming in our backyard.

Between the two of us, we got all the food she'd prepared out to the table, the umbrella giving us a nice shady spot from the warm afternoon sun. I popped back into the house, grabbed my laptop and fired it up once I was back outside.

"This is really good," I said, taking a bite of a sandwich and following it up with a forkful of the fresh salad.

"So what was it you were going to show me on your computer?" My mother asked as we both started in on our lunch. "Some pictures of September somebody-or-other?"

"September Carrino. Just hang on a second," I replied as I moved the cursor and found the file I was looking for. I pulled up a picture that I loved of the busty Ms. Carrino in a one-piece bathing suit. I always thought September looked fantastic in this series of pictures. Her hair had been highlighted a summery frosty-blonde, and those always spectacular tits looked incredible as she posed next to a pool. The suit had that scuba wet-suit look to it with the main color being an attractive periwinkle blue, with a black zipper-band of material about an inch wide running down the front. The suit tied behind the neck and the actual gold zipper ran from the midpoint of her abdomen all the way up to the top. It could be done up as far as you wanted, or it could be left as far open as you wanted as well. In this picture the zipper was done about halfway up September's impressive chest, the ample flesh of those massive globes swelling up from inside the suit. The leg openings were cut nice and high on the hips, giving a tantalizing view of her attractive legs. Once I had made the picture full-screen, I turned it to face my mother.

"Oh my," my mother said, her eyes opening wide as she looked at the picture. "You're right, that girl is built like me. Her hair's a little lighter and of course, she's a little younger, but yes, when you look at our bodies, we could be twins."

"See, and look at how nice she looks in that suit."

"That....that's the same as one of the suits we just bought, isn't it?" she jabbed her finger pointedly at the picture, as if seeing the suit for the first time, after first looking at her resemblance to the person inside it.

"Yep, that's the exact same one. I had this picture in mind when I picked it out."

My mother moved closer, looking more intently at the picture. "She......she looks so beautiful," she said under her breath, seeming to be almost mesmerized by the picture. The look on face brought a smile to my face.

"Want to see a few more pictures of her."

"Yes, please." I brought up another picture, this time with September teasingly drawing the zipper further downwards, more of those tremendous breasts of hers coming into view.

"Oh dear," my mother said with a gulp as I scrolled over to the next picture in the series. With the zipper being lowered even further, in this shot, you could clearly see the round circles of September's large areolae and massive thick nipples.

"Oh my gosh Andy, her breasts look just like mine!" she gushed loudly as she looked closely at the sexy picture.

"I know; that's why I love to look at pictures of her."

She looked at me, then back at the picture, then back at me. "You mean, you look at pictures of her and .....and think of me?" she asked shyly.

"All the time, Mom, all the time."

She paused for a second, her face flushing with embarrassment once more. "I.....I don't know what to say. I have to admit, I'm flattered that you think of me when you look at her. It seems so wicked....yet it's so exciting at the same time. Do you....do you have other pictures of her in other outfits?"

"Yes, many others. But we can look at some of those later. Why don't we finish lunch, then I think it'll be time for us to take a swim. What do you think? Have anything special you'd like to wear?"

Her eyes flicked back to the computer screen before returning my mischievous smile with one of her own. "Yes, I have a new suit my loving son just bought for me. I think you might like it."

"I can't wait." We both eagerly dug into the rest of our food and it tasted great. The sandwiches and salad made a great combo and washing them down with a nice cold glass of ice tea was the icing on the cake. We cleared up the dishes, leaving the pitcher of ice tea and our glasses on the table as we both went in to change. I pulled on my new pair of yellow trunks and made my way back outside. I sat on the edge of the pool, my lower legs waving back and forth in the cool water as I waited.

"How's the water?" I heard her ask as I turned to watch her walk towards me. She had on a colorful bathing suit wrap that tied behind her neck and covered most of her body, leaving only her arms and lower legs exposed.

"It's great," I replied, expectantly waiting for her to remove the colorful wrap. I watched as she stopped next to the table and reached behind her head, her fingers working on the knotted fabric.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked as she tossed the flimsy garment aside and posed with her hands on her hips.

"WOW!" I literally burst out as I looked at her, my jaw almost hitting the pool deck as I stared in awe. Oh man, she looked incredible! The bathing suit fit her like a glove, the soft fabric molding itself to every lush mound and curving valley. The wide black strip of the zipper band looked startling erotic as it drew your eyes to the middle of her tremendous body. She had pulled the zipper well up to contain those massive mammaries, but not high enough to hide everything. There were ample of amounts of soft pink tit-flesh on display where the huge orbs swelled and threatened to spill out of the top of the suit. The suit contained her lush body firmly enough to push her voluminous tits together and up, making them look fantastically huge, as if they needed any help with that anyway. It was difficult, but my eyes travelled downward, taking in the alluring way the fabric followed the sensuous contours of her narrow waist and wide matronly hips. The high-cut leg openings made her legs look fantastic, the hours she'd been spending at the gym definitely paying off.

"Mom.....you......you look amazing!" I gushed, letting my eyes roam blatantly up and down her gorgeous body. I felt a welcome twinge go through my midsection as the blood flowed to my needy member, clear evidence that I'd made the right selection in picking out that suit for her.

"Thanks, son. Do I look anywhere near as nice as that September girl," she asked, doing a bit of a pirouette to show me the suit from all angles. Her full round bum looked great, inviting shadows cast by her round curvy body drawing my eyes like magnets.

"You look better, Mom. I'd take you over her any day."

"You're just saying that; time for you to cool off, mister," she said as she stepped over next to me and shoved me into the pool. I wasn't expecting it and came up sputtering, only to hear her giggling as she pulled her lustrous chestnut locks back into a ponytail and slipped a scrunchie around it.

"I'll get you for that," I chided as I wiped the water out of my eyes.

"Only if you can catch me," she responded before making a smooth knifing dive right over me. My mother had always been a good swimmer and had taught me what she knew. I took off after her but she reached the far end well before me and stopped to wait, a big smile on her pretty face. I swam right up to her and took her in my arms. I kissed her deeply, a needy ache inside me instantly going away as she returned my passionate kiss.

"So, do you like your new suit?" I asked her as we drew slightly back from each other, my hands gripping her full round behind.

"I love it. But I think you love it more," she said playfully as she leaned her face forward and nipped at my bottom lip.

"I think you might be right about that." I let my hands slip up her sides and was about to cup her big tits before she swatted my hands away and took off towards the other end.

"See if you can keep up, smarty-pants," she said as she swam away. I angled my body and headed after her, my arms slicing smoothly through the water. It felt good to swim, the different motions required feeling good in the muscles of my body. I knew my mother felt it too, both of us swimming alongside each other for a while before stopping for a break. I swam over to the shallow end, hauled myself up and sat on the pool edge, the warm sun feeling wonderful as it bathed my dripping skin.

"Had enough?" my mother asked as she slowly swam over until she stood in front of me, the water depth being a little over three feet near this side. With this depth, as she stood on the bottom, her huge tits were just a few inches above the water level and right in line with my cock.

"I've had enough of swimming," I said as I blatantly looked straight down into the deep dark line of her cleavage. She could see exactly where I was looking, and I was happy to see she had no intention of moving as a big smile came over her face, the hairband keeping her damp hair away from her lovely features.

"If you've had enough of swimming, what would you like?" she asked provocatively as her hands softly stroked my thighs.

"I'm not sure. What did you have in mind?" I leaned back, my arms straight behind me as I let my thighs slowly part. Her suggestive words had the blood rushing to my slumbering member already.

"Maybe I could do something to help you forget about that September girl," she said teasingly as she moved closer between my spread thighs, her face mere inches away from stiffening prick.

"I don't know; she's pretty hard to forget. What would you do to try and make me forget her?"

"Oh, I don't know....what would you like me to do?" she asked coyly as she slid her hand across the front of my yellow trunks, her fingers quickly finding the growing slab of man-meat beneath the loose fabric. Her slim fingers circled the thickening tube and moved slowly back and forth, starting to drive me crazy already.

"Why don't you start by taking those trunks off for me, then we can talk about whatever pops up." She smiled as she reached for the waistband of the yellow suit, pulling it down and off as I lifted my hips. My stiffening dick unfurled from the confines of the trunks and started to bob and twitch, my pulsing blood flowing to where it was needed most. Her hands rubbed slowly back and forth over the insides of my spread thighs as we both watched my beefy prick continue to fill and extend. It felt great to feel it coming to full erection out here, the warm sun beating down on us, the wet red eye glistening in the sunlight.

"Oh my gosh, Andy, I still can't believe how big it is. Like I said, your father's was the only one I've ever seen. And it wasn't nearly as long as yours, or anywhere near as big around."

"Would you like to see how big it feels in your mouth?" I asked suggestively as my stiffening love-muscle reached full erection and pointed upwards at about a 45-degree angle, the enflamed head bobbing menacingly with each powerful beat of my heart.

"Yes," she replied, her face flushing a warm pink. I wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or excitement, but I was thrilled to see her move closer, her lips opening wantonly as her hands slid up my thighs towards the broad base of my pulsing rod.

"Un-uh," I warned as I reached down and touched her hands. She looked up at me, a look of both confusion and unmitigated lust in her eyes. Yes, she wanted my thick cock in her mouth, but she couldn't figure out why I'd stopped her. "No hands right now. Let's see what you can do with just your mouth." I put my hands behind me and leaned back once more to watch her, her own hands now resting still on the tops of my thighs.

Her eyes were locked on my throbbing prick, and I saw her tongue slip out instinctively and run wetly around her lips as she moved closer. She formed her lips into a succulent pouting "O" and touched them softly against the pebbly membranes of my glans. Her pursed lips adhered smoothly as she gently sucked, and I felt her tongue slither forward to tickle away a warm drop of pre-cum from the oozing tip.

"Yeah, that's a good girl, lick up all that cock-honey," I said with a warm note of praise, the delicious feeling of her lips on me sending a tingling sensation right to my soaring libido. With the tip safely secured just inside her mouth, I watched as she pushed forward, her soft red lips feeling like the caress of a warm summer wind as she moved downwards. It was scintillatingly erotic to see my own mother's lips stretching further and further until she finally slipped them over the thick purple ridge of my rope-like corona, the broad mushroom head now locked within her hot wet mouth.

"Mmmmm......" A warm sigh of pleasure vibrated through my dick as she groaned, her tongue rolling slowly over the massive crown as she bathed it with her hot wet spit before slipping into the wet red eye and sucking out more of my flowing pre-cum. Oh man, I couldn't believe how good she was already, with this being only her third time with a cock in her mouth. It made me smile to think that all three of those times it had been with me; her son. She was definitely a natural-born cocksucker, and that talent had remained hidden and untapped for all these years. I was definitely going to take advantage of that superlative talent from here on out. I planned on filling that pretty mouth of hers with as much cum as I could from now on.

"That feels fantastic, Mom," I said as she flicked her eyes up to mine, her blue orbs shining with a hungry desire. "Let's see if you can take some more inside that pretty little mouth of yours." My suggestion did not go unheeded as her eyes looked downwards again as she set about her duties. She pulled back slightly, her soft lips giving a gentle tug on my protruding ridge before she started to move forward again, those warm pillowy lips going further and further down. "Oh my God, she's amazing," I thought as I watched her impaling herself on my thrusting erection. She moved downward slowly, mercilessly, and I could feel her pushing more of her hot saliva to the front of her mouth, the gooey spit providing a slick lubricant for her descending lips.

"Glmmmph...." She made a little gagging sound and stopped as I felt the engorged head of my cock press softly into the hot wet tissues at the opening of her throat. I looked down at her stretched lips, a mere 3" away from the shaven base, meaning that she had about 5" of hard man-meat inside her mouth. For a novice cock-sucker, she was incredible!

"Oh Jesus, Mom, that is so good," I moaned as she slowly started to retreat, and I could feel her sucking gently on the way back. She stopped with the tip locked inside her mouth, and then I felt her draw her cheeks in before moving forwards once more, the velvety tissues on the insides of her mouth sliding tightly against the throbbing surface of my upright shaft. She got into a nice smooth rhythm, sucking all the way down until the tip bumped against the back of her throat opening each time. I looked down as she bobbed up and down on my rock-hard dick; the surface of the veiny shaft glittering as her shiny saliva caught the sunlight.

"Mmmmm...." She was moaning softly now as she really got into it, sucking slowly but tenaciously. I could tell she was loving the feel of my long hard cock in her mouth as her head bobbed smoothly up and down. It felt incredible having my mother do this to me. My incestuous desire for her fuelled my ardor like never before. It seemed as if we both wanted this to bring us even closer together. As her lips, tongue and mouth drew mercilessly on my engorged manhood; it felt like she was trying to suck the very soul out of me. Her lips felt so good, that I knew I could cum fairly soon if I wanted; but there was something else I wanted before I filled that mature mouth of hers.

"Whoa," I said, reaching out and tenderly touching her soft cheek. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me expectantly, wondering why I had stopped her. "Mom, if you want me to stop thinking about September, why don't you show me what you've got inside that bathing suit." She eased back off my throbbing prick, a small web of saliva bridging the gap between her red puffy lips and the engorged helmet. As she moved back slightly, the straining web grew slimmer and then finally snapped, the ribbon of warm spit falling onto my upright shaft.

"Is this what you want to see, son?" she asked teasingly as she provocatively started to draw down the gold zipper of her swimsuit. I simply sat and watched as she pulled it down ever so slowly, her soft warm breasts instantly filling the slowly spreading gap.

"Oh, fuck," I groaned as more and more of her tremendous tits came into view. It was my turn to be mesmerized now; her teasingly slow unzipping almost driving me insane. It was so erotically exciting to see the fabric of her suit being pulled open to each side by the fullness and weight of her huge breasts. She kept looking me in the eye coyly as the zipper went down further and further. It reached the bottom of her cleavage, the insides of both spectacular orbs coming into view. I felt my pulsing dick surge as she kept drawing the zipper lower, a warm gob of pre-cum pulsing to the surface and sliding sluggishly down the inverted 'V' at the tip of my cock.

"Do you like that, son?" she asked as her delicate fingers drew the zipper even lower, the soft material spreading further to each side, her big nipples starting to come into view.

"Oh God, yes," I moaned, totally spellbound by the sight of those magnificent jugs coming into view. The edge of the material seemed to catch for a second on her protruding nipples before she drew the zipper even further downwards, the fabric slipping past the nipples and then spreading quickly to each side as gravity drew the enormous mounds out from beneath the confining material. She stopped, her fabulous 32Gs now fully exposed, the beautiful bathing suit encasing the sides of those massive guns and pushing them forwards.

"Oh, fuck," I groaned under my breath. "Mom, those are the most spectacular breasts I've ever seen." I could only stare wide-eyed, my rock-hard prick bobbing with desire as I looked at those big voluptuous tits.

"Do you think they're nicer than that September girl's?" she asked, tilting her head kittenishly to the side as she put her hands beneath them and hefted them towards me.

"Oh my God, Mom, they're nicer than anybody's." A big smile appeared on her face as she looked at me, but being the novice that she was, I knew she wasn't sure what to do at this point. I had to keep teaching her. I knew just what to say. "But I think September would know exactly what to do with those in a situation like this. What do you think that would be?" My gaze shifted from her eyes to her massive guns, and then directly at my throbbing prick. There was no way she could mistake my intent of what I wanted her to do.

"Is this what she would do?" she asked teasingly as she moved forward and enveloped my thrusting erection between the soft warm pillows of her huge breasts.

"Oh yeah, that's exactly what she'd do," I replied as I sat back and luxuriated in the heavenly feeling of my mother's massive tits surrounding my steel-like prick. She wrapped them fully around the upright shaft, and with her gigantic set, there was nothing more than the tip of my 8" boner projecting from the top of her deep warm cleavage. With her hands on the outsides of her big round globes, she started moving her body slowly up and down, the delicious sensations of the friction caused by our wickedly connected bodies flowing through me. I looked down at my long hard cock, disappearing totally from view as she shifted her body upwards, and then the broad mushroom cap poking its head out from the top of her dark line of cleavage when she moved downwards. Oh fuck, was this ever turning me on.

"Oh Jesus, Mom, that feels so good," I groaned deep in my throat as she continued to fuck me with her massive tits. I could feel the hard points of her nipples rubbing against my abdomen as she moved up and down, the stiff rubbery bullets dragging across my skin erotically. I had been so turned on just seeing her in that alluring suit, that between the blowjob she'd been giving me and now this tit-fucking, I was ready to burst.

"Mom, I'm gonna cum soon. Where do you want this load?" I asked as I felt those tingling contractions about to start in my midsection.

"Can I have it in my mouth?" she asked as she looked up at me, her pretty face flushed with excitement. I looked at that lush mouth of hers, her full red lips parted and invitingly wet; and her eyes, her eyes flashing and hungry with desire. Yes, she could definitely have this one in her mouth.

"I'm almost there," I said quickly as I felt the boiling semen about to speed up the shaft of my throbbing prick. "If you want it, you better get your mouth back on top of it." She immediately shifted backwards, her warm pillowy breasts releasing my pulsating erection as she lowered her mouth and slipped her pouty lips back over the engorged crown. I felt her lips clamp down beneath the thick ridge, trapping my throbbing glans inside her hot oral cavity, just as the first thick creamy rope rocketed forth.

"OH FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK," I growled deep in my throat as I started to unload. I could feel her sucking ravenously as I totally flooded her mouth, gob after gob of my potent man-juice spewing into her mouth.

"Mmmmmm," she mewed contentedly, sucking passionately as I continued to ejaculate. I could feel her tongue rolling salaciously over the sensitive tissues on the underside of the glans as rope after rope of pearly seed spurted deep into her mouth. Oh man, she was good; the hot tissues on the inside of her cheeks were pressing warmly against the throbbing head as she sucked, her talented lips and tongue working to drain every last drop of seed out of that she could. My hips continued to flex and buck up into her face as I shook through a fantastic climax, her vacuuming mouth bringing me intense pleasure as I gave her my cum....until I had nothing more inside me to give.

"Oh my God, that was incredible," I said with a low groan as I slumped back against the pool deck, the final dregs of post-orgasmic dogwater drooling forth onto her tongue. She nursed gently, her lips clinging to the sensitive pebbly surface of my glans tenderly as my breathing slowly returned to normal. I felt her tongue delve into the wet red eye one last time, then I watched the muscles in her neck contract as she swallowed the final warm morsels of my load. With a final loving kiss on the very tip, she lifted her head up and looked at me, her sexy wet lips swollen and puffy. I thought she had never looked so beautiful.

"Oh Andy, I don't know why, but I just love the taste of it." I could see that she still didn't feel comfortable using words like cum. I figured that might happen over time; but if not, that was okay too; as long as she could communicate to me what she wanted, I was fine with that.

"If you love the taste of it so much, how about we start making this part of your regular diet?"

She blushed a bright pink again, but I could see by the delightful excitement in her eyes that she liked the idea. She nodded her head timidly as she answered quietly, her voice barely audible, "Okay, I'd like that."

"That's good, Mom," I said authoritatively, letting her know the way things were going to be. "That's just what I hoped you'd say. Now, I can probably give you at least two loads a day; probably more, especially on weekends. Would you be okay with that?"

"Yes," she replied immediately, her eyes dancing with happiness.

"Good. Like I said earlier, I like to cum a lot, and from now on, I'm going to be giving it to you as often as I need." I paused for a second as she looked at me intently before nodding, agreeing to my wishes. "Now don't worry, I'll be taking care of you too, just like we've been doing."

"I....I'm not worried, Andy. I....I want to do this for you. I'll do it any time you want me to." This was exactly the type of attitude I had hoped for when I decided to undertake this new education of her; that it would end up with my sexy stacked mother enthusiastically agreeing to being my cum bucket; a willing receptacle for my incestuous desires, anywhere.....anytime.

I gave her a beaming smile and she returned it, a look of pure joy on her face. "I love you, Mom; more than anything."

"I love you too, Andy." I slipped back into the pool and took her in my arms, our lips meeting in a deep passionate kiss. I wanted her again, and forever, and I knew both my love and lust for her would never cease. I wanted to make her as happy as she'd made me, starting right now.

"I think what you just did was better than anything September could have ever done," I said as slid my arms beneath her round bum and lifted her against me, her heavy round breasts mashing into my chest.

"Do you really think so?" she asked, her eyes shining with happiness.

"Oh yeah, nobody could have done that better," I replied, reaching down between us and taking hold of the zipper on her swimsuit. "And this suit definitely looks better on you too." I could see her blush again, my words of praise thrilling her as I playfully slid the zipper up and down a little bit, before grasping it firmly and pulling it all the way down to the bottom. "Now, let's see if you look like her down here."

My mother gasped as I reached behind her neck and undid the bow she'd tied there, the top of the suit immediately falling away from her body. I grabbed the damp fabric and pulled it downwards. As I drew it away with my hands, she stepped out and I tossed it aside on the deck. I reached down, took a firm hold of her hips and lifted her onto the edge of the pool deck where I'd just been sitting. I put a hand on the inside of each knee and forced her legs apart, dropping to my knees on the pool bottom as I lowered my mouth to her shaven pussy.

"Oh, Andy," she moaned as I slipped my tongue into her hot creamy snatch. She must have gotten terribly aroused from sucking me off because she was soaking wet, her velvety love-pocket soaked with her flowing juices. I slipped my tongue deep inside and relished the taste of her womanly nectar settling on my taste-buds.

For the next half hour or so, my mouth never left her hot wet cunt, my lips and tongue either working deep inside that heavenly trench or sucking and licking at her fleshy pink labial petals; or pleasuring the tingling button of her clit. I took her to five orgasms, one following quickly upon the heels of another as I used all my oral talents to bring her as much satisfaction as I could.

"Oh Andy, I'm begging you to stop," she pleaded with me after her fifth climax, her frazzled body collapsing back onto the deck as she pushed my working mouth away from her thrumming pussy.

I smiled to myself as she lay there peacefully, gasping for air as her body slowly recovered. I climbed out of the pool, dried myself with one of the towels we'd brought out and then pulled my damp suit back on. It felt annoying pulling on the damp suit, but I wasn't sure if I was done using the pool yet, plus, I knew the type of material it was made out of would dry fairly quickly.

"Andy, honey, could you throw me a towel, please," my mother asked as she tried to cover her exposed tits and pussy with her arms and hands. I handed her a big beach towel which she quickly wrapped around, demurely covering her lush curvy body.

"Mom, you look worn out," I said as I sat back down in front of my computer. "Why don't we just relax for a little while? I've got some work I can do, so why don't you get your book and sit out here with me and read." My mother was an avid reader, and I knew one of her little pleasures was sitting out here in nice weather and just losing herself in a good novel.

"That sounds nice. I'd like that," she said, her hand holding the towel tightly around her as she bent down and picked up her sodden swimsuit. "I don't really want to put this wet suit back on though."

"That's alright; we got you three other new ones. Why don't you put one of them on?"

"Okay. Which one would you like?" Now, there's my girl, I thought to myself. Asking me which one it was that I wanted her to wear was more important to her that picking one that she liked.

"How about the white bikini?"

"Are you sure, Andy?" she asked, looking at me speculatively. "Are you sure I won't look like a fat cow in it?"

"Not at all, Mom. You're gonna look great. Trust me."

"Well, okay," she replied with a reluctant shake of her head. "I'll give it a try." She laid her damp suit over one of the deck chairs to dry, then disappeared into the house, her hand still holding the enveloping towel over her naked body.

I poured us each another big glass of ice tea and took a gulp, the cool liquid feeling exquisitely refreshing as it coursed through me. I set her glass on a little table next to the big lounging chair beside me, then turned back to my computer. I had a big project this coming week at The Mirage hotel, one contract that was going to net me a nice pay-cheque. I fired up some of the coding files they'd sent me and started to work my way through. Just as I started to get engrossed in my work, my attention was diverted as I heard the patio door open and close. I looked up to see my mother walking towards me, her body now covered by another one of the colorful lightweight cover-ups we'd bought. This one was mostly a vivid rich blue, but covered with the images of brilliantly-colored tropical fish. It looked great on her.

"Well, I don't know about this, Andy," she said as she stood next to me, setting down the novel she'd brought out with her and a white hairband on the table beside me. She had let her hair out of the scrunchie she'd worn earlier and fluffed it out; now looking sexy as anything, her chestnut locks falling about her shoulders and framing her pretty face.

"You mean the bikini?"

"Yes, I'm not sure if it's right for me," she answered, that note of insecurity in her voice coming through once more.

"Well, why don't you let me be the judge of that; and I promise, if it doesn't look good, I'll tell you honestly. Okay?"

"You promise you'll be honest?"

"I promise," I said, making the sign of a cross over my heart.

"Okay then." I almost held my breath as she reached up and undid the tie holding the loose wrap. I'd helped her pick out all the bathing suits, but I hadn't been able to go into the change room area and see any of them on her. As I awaited the unveiling, I was as anxious as a teenager getting to third base for the first time.

"Oh Jesus...." I'm not sure, but I think I actually spoke out loud as she drew the cover-up aside and tossed it onto a chair. My brain was instantly charged with an exponentially high level of stimulation as I stared at my mother in the bikini. The suit was made up of four tiny triangles, two were responsible for covering those full heavy 32Gs, and the other two were joined by a tiny strip of material and wound between her legs, teasingly attempting to demurely cover her full round bum and tantalizing pussy. The triangles were all connected with thin spaghetti straps, the bottoms tied in sexy little bows at her hip, and the top tied behind her head and the middle of her back.

The cups of the top were not ridiculously small; I knew that would never go over with my mother to look totally trampy. These cups did give her some level of support for her heavy guns; which she definitely needed. When I'd run my fingers over the suit in the store, I'd definitely felt some level of reinforcement within the edges of the material. And right now, I was seeing the work of the bathing suit designer put on perfect display.

Her rack looked incredible; the molded cups of the top beautifully forming and enhancing the full round shape of her voluminous breasts. The cups pushed the sizable mounds together and up, just not as powerfully as the bras I'd gotten her. The generous swells seemed about to spill out of the cups, but not to the point where it looked obscenely ridiculous; just perfectly accentuating her full buxom figure.

She turned around for me and could see that the bottom nicely contained her full round bum, again, it was cut just right, not too small so that her flesh was sticking out in all the wrong places. The small triangle at the front came halfway up between the "V" junction at the top of her thighs and her little dimpled navel. The thin strands of the ties then rose upwards and out to each side where they were tied it little bows over each flared hip. My eyes were immediately drawn to the bows; they just seemed to be inviting the observer to reach out and pluck open the bows, revealing the lusty treasures lying beneath.

The color; brilliant white. It was fantastic. I love white on busty women, whether it be clothing, lingerie, whatever, I didn't care, white always looks great. The reason; shadows. There was no forgiveness with white. The shadows cast by white clothing on a woman were either flattering or obscene, and on my mother, white looked breathtaking. The snug bottoms of the bikini cast a soft shadow on the undersides of her lush round bum, and at the front, there was a fine shadow hinting at the warm soft cleft I knew lay hidden beneath the thin material. But it was the top, of course, where the shadows were most revealing. As she stood in the sunlight, the shadows cast by her generous rack on the undersides of those spectacular breasts and her flat stomach was astonishing. It drew your eye magnetically to her full chest, the shadows bearing witness to the full size and proportions of her heavy round tits. But most of all, right in the middle of the smooth triangular cups; the shadows cast by her large nipples. The white material darkened enticingly where it covered each rubbery button, emphasizing the subtly impressive size that onlookers would dream of getting their hands and mouth on.

I took one more look up and down over her full body, taking in every delectable aspect of the gorgeous suit, the brilliant white material of the tiny suit making her look absolutely fantastic. "Mom, you look amazing."

"You're not just saying that, are you, Sweetie?" That insecurity was still there, even as she stood before me, a woman desirable to any man, of any age.

"No. Believe me, Mom, you look incredible. That suit fits you perfectly."

"You really think so, it's not too small."

"Not at all; it covers you in all the spots where you need it, but leaves just the right amount visible to show off that fantastic shape of yours."

"Oh, Honey, thank you so much for saying that; I was nervous putting it on. I'm glad you like it." She ran her hands down over her hips and looked down at her own midsection to where the bottoms started. "I know now why those young girls all shave down there. If they wear things like this, it could definitely be a problem. I'm glad you did that for me, Andy, I like the feeling of being nice and clean down there. And it makes this bathing suit look so much better than it would too."

"I love it, Mom. You look great. Now, why don't you relax on the lounger there while I do a little work. I poured you a little drink there," I said as I gestured to the glass of ice tea I'd set out for her. "It'll be nice just to be out here together, don't you think?"

The warm smile of joy on her face just about made my heart melt. "I'd love that, son." She leaned over and gave me a tender kiss on my forehead, then grabbed her sunglasses and book and stretched out on the lounger next to me. I watched as she laid back and got comfortable, those tremendous tits settling in and spreading wonderfully over the full breadth of her chest. It took some willpower, but I made myself tear my eyes away and get back to my work.

For the next hour or so, I worked away, busy analyzing the material the IT guys at The Mirage had provided me with. I saw some problems, and knew the corrections that we'd have to start implementing to set things right. As I worked, my mother sat quietly, totally absorbed in her book. I kept looking over, my eyes feasting on that fantastic body as she moved languidly on the reclined chair, casually shifting one leg at a time before settling in for some more reading.

I was struck again by how similar her body was to September Carrino's. Deciding I needed another look for comparison, I pulled up the file I had on my laptop where I kept a number of folders with pictures of busty models, including the lovely Ms. Carrino. I started looking at various pictures of her from various photo shoots, including ones like "Blue Bra", "Wet T-Shirt", and of course "Zipper Swimsuit", where she'd been wearing the same swimsuit as my mother had been earlier. I always preferred the shots where the busty model had her hair highlighted a nice frosty blonde. I thought that she looked softer and much more 'touchable' than in the shots where her hair was really dark.

As I scanned through the photos, I was struck again at how similar their bodies were, especially the size and shape of their tits. Yes, my mother had a few years on September, but her body was still almost identical. Those big hard nipples looked so tasty and suckable, I felt a tell-tale warm twinge go through my midsection. Feeling the stirring in my loins, I opened one of my favorite photo sets of September, the "Car Wash" series. Jesus, she looked fantastic in those shots, squeezing the soapy sponge down the front of her low-cut blue and white striped top, her frosty-blonde hair tied in alluring pigtails, a tiny pair of denim shorts exposing her inviting midriff. As I scanned through the photos, I felt my cock start to stiffen.

I flicked my eyes over to my mother, hungrily feasting on that beautiful rack of hers stuffed into that enticing white bikini. As I looked from the enticing photos on my laptop over to my mother's lush mature body, a lurid idea came into my head; why not enjoy both at the same time? I thought about how great that would be, and based on the conversation we'd had just a short time ago, I decided to try something quite forward and see how she'd react. I wanted her to continue realizing that what we were doing was fun, that it was enjoyable for both of us; so I spent a few minutes deciding how I was gonna say this to her.

"Mom," I said, getting her attention.

"Yes?" she asked, looking over the top of her book.

"Would it surprise you if I told you I'm ready to cum again?" I said with a quirky smile on my face, but inside I was nervously awaiting her response.

"My gosh, Andy, are you always like this?"

"Actually, yes. That's why Connor calls me 'Triple-A'. He teases me that when it comes to sex, saying I'm the Energizer Bunny; you know, I just keep cumming and cumming."

She paused for a second, a definite questioning look in her eyes. "And uh.....how does Connor know this?" I realized she must be wondering if Connor and I had......well....you know, 'been together', in order for Connor to make an observation like that.

I burst out laughing. "No, Mom. It's nothing like that. It's just that one time a girl I was dating told Connor what it was like to be with me. He's based it solely on that. Nothing more; I promise you."

She got a bit of an anxious look on her face now, and I wondered where that was coming from. "This...this girl; are you still seeing her?" Oh, there it was; jealousy.

"No," I said with a shake of my head and a dismissive wave of my hand. "That was a number of years ago, Mom. She's long gone." I paused for a second as she relaxed and a slow smile spread across her face. "You're the only girl I'm interested in now."

"Oh, Andy, you're so sweet to say that." I could see the wheels turning in her head before she spoke again. "And right now, I love that we are becoming so close. When you mentioned that girl, I felt jealous, like I don't want to share you with anyone. But in the long run, you know how important I think it is for you to have a family. And that is something I can never give you. I've always been sad that I could never have any more children other than you. Someday you'll want children of your own, and I know I'll have to accept another woman in your life; someone maybe like that Silvia girl. That's going to be hard for me, but I know that's the way it's going to have to be. I....I only hope the girl you choose will make you happy."

She was so sweet; my heart went out to her. "Thanks for saying that, Mom. I care so much about you, I'd never do anything to hurt you, ever. Anything different that happens may come in time, but right now, all I want is to be with you. I love you, Mom, always."

"I love you too, Andy."

I sat back in my chair and nodded towards my swelling crotch, a mischievous smile on my face. "But like I said, I'm ready to cum again, and it would be great if you'd help me out. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"I will. I'll do that for you any time you want me to. Now, what would you like me to do?" There now, that was it. The perfect answer; just as I'd hoped from my pretty little cum-bucket. Again, I decided to continue quite blatantly.

"I'd like you to suck me off right here," I pointed to a spot on the ground right in front of me.

"Oh, okay," she replied obediently as she shifted sideways in her chair to get up.

"Bring a cushion," I said, standing up for a second and whipping off my trunks before sitting back down. She grabbed one of the big throw pillows and dropped in on the deck as I spread my thighs, giving her easy access to my slowly rising pecker. "That's a good girl. Now just get down on your knees and see if you can have some fun taking this load out of me."

She compliantly dropped to her knees and inched forward between my spread thighs before I stopped her. "Un-uh," I said, a warming tone to my voice.

"Uh.....wha..." she replied, looking at me with an unsure look on her face.

"Your hair; what did we say you should do with your hair when you're going to suck my cock?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I forgot," she responded immediately, reaching over and grabbing the hairband she'd brought out. She pulled her lustrous locks back into a tight ponytail and secured the elasticized band in place, now ready for some serious cocksucking. When she had it in place, she leaned forward, moving closer between my spread thighs. I looked down at those tremendous tits, swaying pendulously beneath her, yet still enticingly displayed within that sexy bikini top.

"Mom, before you really start sucking, why don't you lick my balls for a while? After all, that's where all that creamy cum you seem to love so much comes from," I suggested, lifting my semi-hard dong up and out of the way so she could clearly see my two heavy nuts.

"Okay, but I'm not sure what to do?" she said tentatively.

"Just do what comes naturally. You've been great at everything else so far, I think you'll figure it out."

"Okay, I'll try. Don't be upset with me if I do something wrong."

"Don't worry, Mom. I know you'll be fantastic."

She leaned in closer, and as I held my swollen dick out of the way, she nestled her mouth right into the join where my leg met my body, her lips deftly kissing the soft skin there. I heard her breathe deeply of my warm masculine scent, her smooth face pressing warmly against my flesh as her tongue started to venture forth. I felt the warm wet tip slither across the silky surface of my sack, followed by her pillowy lips pressing against my swollen nut. Her lips and tongue explored the supple texture of my bag for a minute or two before I felt her open her lips wider and tenderly suck my spunk-filled testicle into her mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's it, Mom. I told you you'd know just what to do." And man, did she ever. She seemed to know exactly how much pressure to apply with her mouth and tongue on that most sensitive of areas. She licked and sucked my heavy sperm-laden nuts lovingly; and from the look on her pretty face, she seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I did. I let her go to town for quite awhile, her warm saliva and soft tongue bathing my soft smooth sack continuously. It felt so nice, so luxurious, that I felt like she could just stay nuzzled in there and do it forever, but another part of me was now begging for attention.

"Mom, that's fantastic, but I need that pretty little mouth of yours somewhere else now." She sat back and I presented my rigid prick to her, a long hard slab of virile manhood that needed those soft red lips wrapped around it so bad. Poised on her knees between my spread legs, she stared at it, a look of pure wanton lust on her flushed face. I wrapped my hand around the thick base and slowly stroked it towards her face, both of us watching as a slimy wad of pre-cum oozed to the surface and started to distend teasingly downwards.

"Ohhhmmmmm," she groaned contently as she swooped forward, caught the silvery web of slippery goo on her tongue and then immediately wrapped her lips around the enflamed crown. I felt her lips lock down once more beyond the broad helmet as she drew her cheeks in and sucked softly, trying to pull more of my slimy discharge into her hungry mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's the way. And feel free to use your hands this time." With my surging erection trapped within her hot sucking mouth, I withdrew my gripping hand from around it and sat back, enjoying in the wickedly incestuous pleasure of my gorgeous mother sucking my cock. She brought her hands up and wrapped one around the rigid shaft, pumping it back and forth towards her vacuuming mouth as she continued to suck.

"That's my girl, but remember, just take your time. I like it nice and slow. I'll make sure you get a nice big mouthful at the end." I sat back and contentedly watched her as she surrendered herself to the wanton desires within her sexually-awakening body. From her little moans and enthusiastic efforts, I could see she was getting a tremendous amount of pleasure out of servicing me; out of worshipping my cock. She was taking her time, using her magical mouth and talented hands everywhere, but making it last, making it absolutely wonderful for me.

"Oh yeah, Mom, that's the way. That's perfect." I could see the happiness in her eyes at my words of praise. I relaxed back into my seat, willing to let this one last, knowing we would both be enjoying her cocksucking efforts; and I knew my ultimate gift to her would be to fill that mouth of hers with the warm masculine cream she loved so much.

As she settled in on the cushion and slowly sucked, I looked over to my laptop, the pictures of September Carrino still up on the screen. I started to flip through some other pictures of her, then opened some other folders with pictures of other busty beauties; like Jana Delfi, Ewa Sonnet, Sammy Braddy, and of course, the incomparable MILF and former Playboy Playmate, Petra Verkaik.

For over half an hour, my mother slowly sucked me while I looked at pictures of these beautiful women. "Oh man, life is good," I thought to myself as my mother's lips and tongue continued to slowly drive me crazy. Here I was, looking at pictures of beautiful busty women I'd fantasized and jerked off about for years now; while my stacked sexy mother slavishly worshipped my rock-hard erection. Yes, life was definitely good.

I looked down at my mother once more, her soft little moans of pleasure music to my ears as she bobbed up and down on my thrusting erection, her warm saliva drizzling in silvery rivulets down my upright shaft. I watched as her mouth slid mercilessly back and forth, her soft lips pursed forward wantonly as she sucked, 5" of hard cock going deep in mouth with each torturous stroke. As I looked at the remaining 3" that she couldn't take, I decided that was something we would work on later tonight. I definitely wanted her to learn to take it all, and being the willing eager student that she seemed to be, I figured tonight would be the perfect time for that lesson. But right now, as her cheeks caved in and enveloped my erect love-muscle in a hot buttery sheath, I knew I needed to cum.

"Get ready, Mom, I'm almost there. Just a little bit more and you'll get a nice big reward." My words seemed to inspire her. She didn't speed up, but enthusiastically sucked, her soft lips and warm tongue pleasuring my throbbing prick tenaciously as she worked to draw out my precious seed. As I felt the initial contractions signifying the onset of my climax begin in my midsection, I felt the fingertips of her two hands meet at the base of my throbbing shaft. She curled her fingers and I felt the exquisite sensation as she delicately scratched all around the flush base with her blood-red fingernails. Oh my God, it felt incredible.

"OH FUCK, MOM. JUST KEEP DOING THAT WITH YOUR FINGERS. I'M GONNA CUM......I'M GONNA.....OHHHHHHHH FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK," I moaned loudly as I started to cum. The first milky rope rocketed forward forcefully, and I was almost surprised it didn't knock her head right off. The waves of orgasmic delight coursed through me as I flooded her mouth, rope after rope of thick warm cream filling her eager mouth. I heard her let out a little squeal as she started to cum herself, the sound vibrating tremulously through my enveloped shaft. She was moaning with pleasure as I continued to unload, wad after wad of pearly nectar spewing forth onto her waiting tongue. Through glazed eyes, I looked down, her lips still tightly adhered to my throbbing shaft, milky ribbons of semen trickling from the corners of her overflowing mouth. She continued to suck voraciously, even as the last traces of my precious nectar oozed forth onto her waiting tongue, to be savored before she eagerly swallowed, my massive load of semen finding a nice warm home in the pit of her stomach.

"Mom, that was fantastic," I said as I slumped back in my chair, totally spent.

"I....I loved it too," she said softly as she slipped her lips off my drained prick and gave it a final tender kiss. "It was so exciting when you came, I don't know why, but it triggered something inside me. I don't know which one of us got the most pleasure from that."

"I think we both did," I said as I sat forward and gave her a kiss. "I think your lessons at doing that are coming along great. And since you've been such a good student and making the teacher happy, how about I take you out for dinner again tonight?"

"REALLY?" she gasped; a huge smile on her face.

"Sure. And how about we got to a movie afterwards? When was the last time you went to a movie?"

"I.....I can't remember. Can we really do that?"

"Of course we can. We can do whatever you like," I replied as she looked at me and beamed with happiness.

She was like an excited schoolgirl now, and as her teacher, I knew there had to be some playtime between lessons. Like I mentioned earlier, I wanted to work on getting her used to taking those other 3" down her throat. Besides that, I knew she said that for her, the act of intercourse would be considered incest, but.......I wondered how she'd feel if I started exploring the other tight little hole she had down there. Yes, the teacher might have to give his favorite student more new lessons before this weekend was over. Plus, I couldn't wait to see her in some more of the new things I'd picked up for her at the lingerie store. I started to wonder which one I should pick out for her to wear tonight.......

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waterproofwater0 · 2 months ago

Text

INSIDE AESPA EP. 8┃ Decisions, decisions

Male reader x Giselle

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: squirting, dom/sub, dirty talk, teasing PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

The morning crept in slowly.

Not heavy. Not loud. Just the kind of stillness that didn’t ask for anything.

I sat at the edge of the bed, letting my hands hang between my knees. The light through the window was thin and washed-out, pale enough to dull the colors of the room. It didn’t feel like morning, not really. It felt like the space after something—after noise, after heat, after the kind of closeness that left a mark you couldn’t see.

The house wasn’t silent. There was the low hum of the fridge down the hall, the occasional pop of old floorboards settling under the change in temperature. But it wasn’t awake yet, either.

I found myself moving before I knew what I was aiming for. Just standing, stretching out the stiffness in my back, sliding the door open with a soft scrape that barely cut through the stillness.

The hallway yawned open in front of me.

I passed the bathroom, the guest room, the kitchen.

All empty.

No footsteps. No murmured conversations. Just the soft, worn-in quiet of a house that hadn’t decided to start the day yet.

When I reached Karina’s room, the door was cracked open.

Not wide. Just enough to catch the edge of a rumpled bedspread, a hoodie half-tossed onto the floor, a slice of muted light slipping through the blinds.

I knocked once—out of habit more than anything.

“Come in,” Karina’s voice called out. Low. Unbothered.

I pushed the door open.

She was sitting on the bed, back braced against the headboard, one knee bent up toward her chest. She was wearing a hoodie—black, sleeves shoved up to her elbows—and a pair of loose shorts that looked like they belonged to someone else.

Her phone rested face-down beside her.

She wasn’t scrolling. Just sitting there, elbow propped on her knee, fingers pressed against her temple like she was working through a thought she wasn’t ready to speak aloud.

For a second, neither of us said anything.

The quiet stretched, not uncomfortable. Just there.

Her gaze flicked up to me—steady, assessing, the way it always did.

“Didn’t think you’d be up yet,” she said.

“Didn’t think you’d be waiting.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Not the polished, public kind.

The real one. Quick. Dry. A little tired.

She nodded toward the mattress beside her.

I crossed the room and sat down, careful to leave a few inches of space. Enough to breathe.

The bed dipped under the shared weight.

Karina leaned her head back against the wall, eyes half-lidded, as if she might fall asleep sitting up. For a minute, she didn’t speak. She just let the silence hang between us, steady and unhurried.

“You’re thinking too loud,” she said eventually, eyes still closed.

I huffed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You always think you can hear that?”

“With you?” She cracked one eye open. “It’s not hard.”

I didn’t answer.

I just let the weight in my chest settle a little heavier.

Karina shifted, resting her arm across her bent knee, fingers loose and easy.

“You’re not great at staying,” she said, voice even. Not accusing. Not teasing. Just stating a fact she’d already filed away.

I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring out the window now, where the blinds cut the light into sharp, narrow lines.

“You’re good at disappearing,” she added. “Quiet. Clean. No mess.”

I didn’t deny it.

Karina shrugged, a small, resigned movement. “I get it.”

Another beat.

“I’m not gonna ask you to stay,” she said, and this time she did look at me. Direct. No hesitation. “None of us are.”

Her fingers flexed once, like she was fighting the urge to fidget.

“But I will tell you this,” she continued. “We don’t keep people here. We don’t make them stay. We just… we hope they want to.”

She said it simply.

No plea hidden in her tone. No expectation.

Just a quiet offering.

I sat with it.

Let it dig in where it needed to.

Karina pushed herself up straighter, rolling her shoulders out like the conversation had been more effort than she wanted to admit.

She reached for her phone but didn’t unlock it.

Didn’t check any messages.

Just held it loosely in her hand like an anchor.

“I’m not good at this either, you know,” she said. “Letting people stay. Trusting them not to wreck the place on their way out.”

I gave a small, crooked smile. “I won’t trash the place.”

Karina smirked. “You’ll just vanish without a sound.”

I didn’t argue.

She set the phone down again. Ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. There were faint lines under her eyes—shadows that hadn’t been there the first time I met her.

Or maybe they had.

Maybe I just hadn’t looked close enough.

Karina shifted, dropping her knee and crossing her legs loosely.

“I’m not gonna sell you a dream,” she said. “It’s not perfect here. We’re not perfect.”

She lifted a hand, gesturing vaguely to the house around us.

“But it’s ours. And we’d make room for you if you wanted it.”

I let the words sit between us.

Heavy.

Simple.

Uncomplicated in the way only hard-earned truth could be.

Karina pushed herself off the bed, stretching her arms overhead until her hoodie rode up enough to show a sliver of skin. She didn’t bother smoothing it down.

She walked to the door, leaned against the frame, and gave me a look I couldn’t quite name.

“I’ll see you around, Mylo,” she said.

And with that, she stepped into the hall, leaving me alone in the quiet.

But the space didn’t feel empty.

It felt… waiting.

I sat there for a moment longer, staring at the rumpled bedspread, the dent in the mattress where she’d been.

Then I stood.

And kept moving.

I left Karina’s room behind without looking back.

The house was starting to wake up now—just barely. A few muted sounds carried through the hallways: the distant clink of a glass, the soft shuffle of bare feet across wood floors. But it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t intrusive.

It was the kind of noise that let you move quietly if you wanted to.

I followed it to the kitchen.

Winter was standing by the counter, barefoot, hair loose around her shoulders in that way that always looked just a little messy, a little undone—but never careless. She wore an oversized T-shirt, sleeves falling past her elbows, the hem brushing mid-thigh.

She didn’t turn when she heard me.

Just poured herself a glass of water from the filtered pitcher, slow and steady. The kind of movement that didn’t say much, but didn’t hide anything either.

I leaned against the doorway, hands shoved into the pockets of my sweats.

For a minute, neither of us said anything.

Winter took a sip, set the glass down, and ran her fingers absently along the rim like she was smoothing out a wrinkle only she could see.

“You’re thinking about leaving.”

It wasn’t a question.

I didn’t answer.

She finally turned, resting her back against the counter, glass still in hand.

Her eyes met mine without flinching. They were clear. Cool. But not cold.

Not today.

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “We’ve all been there.”

I studied her face.

There was no accusation in it. No judgment. Just the kind of resigned understanding that came from someone who’d thought about running once or twice herself.

Maybe more.

Winter tilted her head slightly, that same easy, unreadable expression she wore like a second skin.

“You’re good at hiding it,” she said. “The wanting to disappear.”

I huffed a breath. “It sure doesn't seem like it.”

She gave a small shrug. “Takes one to know one.”

Her fingers tapped the side of the glass, a quiet, rhythmic sound.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She wasn’t fidgeting. Not exactly.

It was just a sound. A tether.

Winter didn’t move closer.

She didn’t ask me to.

But she didn’t let the silence close between us either.

Instead, she said, softer now: “You don’t owe anyone a version of yourself that you can't even stand.”

I swallowed.

Winter pushed off the counter, slow, deliberate. She crossed the small space between us and stopped just close enough that I could feel her there—steady, real.

She looked up at me, her hair falling forward over her shoulders, eyes sharp and clear.

“But if you’re running because you think no one wants the real one…”

She reached out.

Not fast. Not hesitant.

Her hand brushed the side of my face—light, barely there. Fingertips tracing the line of my jaw like she wasn’t sure if I’d let her.

I didn’t pull away.

Her hand stayed.

Warm.

Present.

“If you’re running because you think you’re too much—or not enough—or whatever else you’ve been telling yourself…”

She let her words hang there.

Heavy.

Unflinching.

“I hope you know you’re wrong.”

I didn’t say anything.

Couldn’t.

Winter dropped her hand, but she didn’t step back.

She just stood there, letting the moment settle.

Then, quieter: “We’re not asking for the perfect parts, Mylo. We’re just asking for you.”

I closed my eyes for a second.

Not long.

Just enough to steady the pulse under my skin.

When I opened them again, Winter was still there.

Still steady.

Still waiting.

But not pushing.

Never pushing.

“I’m not good at this,” I said, voice rougher than I meant it to be.

Winter smiled—small, real.

“None of us are.”

She reached past me to the counter, grabbed a second glass, and filled it.

Then handed it to me without a word.

I took it.

The cool weight of it grounded me more than I wanted to admit.

Winter leaned her hip against the counter again, sipped her water, and let the silence stretch.

Not tense.

Not demanding.

Just easy.

When she spoke again, it was softer. Barely more than a breath.

“Stay for breakfast,” she said.

It wasn’t an order.

It wasn’t even really a request.

It was an offering.

A way of saying: You’re still wanted here. Even when you’re not sure why.

I nodded once.

Small. Almost imperceptible.

But Winter saw it.

She always did.

She smiled again—tired, knowing—and turned back to her glass, giving me the space to breathe without feeling like I was being watched.

I stood there for a moment longer, glass in hand, heart a little steadier.

Then I moved.

Slow.

Not leaving.

Just… moving forward.

I found Ningning on the couch, curled up sideways with a blanket half-draped over her legs.

Her phone sat face-down on the coffee table.

She wasn’t scrolling.

She wasn’t texting.

She was just... there.

Breathing.

Thinking.

The sunlight coming through the blinds hit her hair. She had that stillness about her—the kind that didn’t mean calm. The kind that meant something else. Like she was working through a problem in her head and hadn’t figured out which way to turn it yet.

I stood there for a second longer than I should have.

She noticed.

Ningning didn’t move. Didn’t lift her head or sit up straighter.

Just flicked her eyes toward me—steady, sharp, a little too knowing.

“You look like someone who’s about to do something stupid,” she said.

Her voice was light.

But not joking.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Depends on your definition.”

Ningning tucked the blanket higher around her legs. Her foot brushed the edge of the coffee table.

“You don’t have to go,” she said, softer this time.

I didn’t answer. Am I really so easy to read?

She turned her face to the TV—not watching it, not really. Just giving me space to think.

“I get it,” she added, voice almost casual. “Sometimes it feels easier to leave before someone asks you to.”

Her thumb moved absently against the blanket, a small, repetitive motion.

“But no one’s asking you to,” she said.

I moved closer. Sat down on the other end of the couch.

Not touching.

Just close enough.

Ningning glanced at me again, head tilted slightly like she was measuring something—some weight she couldn’t quite name.

“I used to think,” she said, “that if people got too close, they’d see all the parts I didn’t want to explain. And then they’d leave anyway.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was the kind that sat tight around the edges, like it hurt to stretch.

“They never did,” she said. “But I kept acting like they might.”

I didn’t look at her.

I looked at my hands.

They were still. No tremor. No sign of the storm that was starting to gather just under the skin.

Ningning let the silence hang there.

Then: “You’re not the only one scared of being kept around for the wrong reasons.”

I glanced at her.

She was still staring at the TV.

“I know what it feels like to wonder if people like the idea of you more than they like you.”

Her hand brushed the blanket again. Small motion. Barely there.

“But you’re not an idea, Mylo.”

She turned her head, finally facing me fully.

“You’re a person. And you’re still here.”

A beat.

“You’re still you.”

I swallowed.

Ningning didn’t push.

She just looked at me—steady, unblinking, real.

“No one’s trying to buy you,” she said. “No one’s keeping you because you fill some space we don’t want to fill ourselves.”

She smiled again—smaller this time. Less tight.

“You’re here because we want you here.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Didn’t know how to hold it without dropping it.

Ningning must’ve seen it on my face.

She shifted, pulling her legs out from under the blanket, sitting cross-legged now, facing me fully.

“You don’t have to believe it right away,” she said. “But you can’t pretend it’s not true.”

I exhaled slowly.

The kind of breath that didn’t fix anything but let you survive a little longer.

Ningning leaned back against the armrest, folding her arms loosely over her chest.

“I’m not going to tell you to stay,” she said. “I’m just going to tell you that leaving won’t change anything.”

I looked at her.

She met my eyes—open, unafraid.

“You’ll still be wanted,” she said. “Even if you run.”

Her voice didn’t crack.

It didn’t soften.

It just held.

“You’ll still be you.”

The words sat heavy between us.

I didn’t argue.

Didn’t deflect.

I just sat there, breathing in a room that suddenly felt a little less empty.

Ningning reached for the remote and unmuted the TV.

The cartoon blared back to life—bright, fast, chaotic.

But she wasn’t really watching.

She just sat there, letting the noise fill the cracks.

Letting me stay.

Without asking.

Without pushing.

Without conditions.

After a few minutes, I stood up.

Ningning didn’t say anything.

She just smiled at me—real, easy—and turned back to the screen.

I left the room without looking back.

But I carried her words with me.

I didn’t sleep that first night. Not really. I stayed curled up on the far end of the couch, one arm under my head, pretending to watch the TV flickering low in the corner. Some old sitcom played — canned laughter, bright clothes, people shouting at each other in the way they thought was funny. The house smelled different from what I was used to. Warmer. Cleaner. Soap, cinnamon from a candle burning on the counter, a hint of coffee sunk deep into the walls. Cara didn’t ask questions. She just set a folded blanket down beside me — thick, worn soft at the edges — and went back to the kitchen. Bill didn’t say anything either. He just sat at the table, flipping through a newspaper like the headlines would change if he stared long enough. No one asked where I was from. No one asked why I was there. The silence should’ve felt sharp. It didn’t. It felt cautious. Like no one wanted to startle anything. The next morning, there was oatmeal. Thick, clumpy, full of raisins that exploded soft against my tongue. Cara set it in front of me without a word. She poured herself and Bill coffee and sat down like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You don’t have to eat it,” she said around a spoonful. “But it’d be polite to try.” I ate.

Because I didn’t know what else to do. The house was small. Lived-in, not cluttered — every surface covered with little signs of life. A sagging couch. Curtains sun-faded to a pale almost-color. A kitchen that smelled like old grease and lemon cleaner. Towels that didn’t match. A clock that ticked unevenly. It wasn’t bad. Not like before. A few days later, they offered me the spare room. It was small — bed, dresser, cracked window. The mattress dipped toward the middle. The springs groaned every time I moved. But it had a door. A lock. That was enough. They didn’t talk much. Bill kept to himself. TV, paper, occasional grunts. Cara ran the house — lists on the fridge, muttering under her breath when she cleaned, cooking more food than two people needed. They didn’t ask anything of me. No papers. No rules. No promises. Just a list on the fridge every morning. Dishes. Sweep. Laundry. Take out the trash. Small things. Easy trades. Sometimes Cara brought leftovers from the school — a bruised apple, a stack of rolls the cafeteria was going to throw out. She’d leave them in the fridge with a sticky note that just said “Yours.” Little things. Things that made it easier to pretend this wasn’t temporary. The days blurred. I stopped sleeping in my shoes.

Stopped glancing at the door every time I heard footsteps. Started thinking — maybe this was it. Maybe they didn’t need anything from me. No deals. No conditions. Just... stay out of the way. Be polite. Be useful. It was almost enough to make me believe it. But even then — even when things were quiet and warm and easy — there was a catch at the back of my throat. Because nothing in my life was ever free. I pushed it down. I worked hard. I didn’t cause trouble. I made myself small, invisible at the edges of their lives. It should’ve been enough. For a while, it was. Then came Wednesday. I remember because the house was quieter than usual. Cara had a late shift at the school. Bill was out in the garage, radio muttering low under the clank of tools. I’d finished everything on the list by noon. Dishes, floors, laundry folded and stacked like I didn’t live there. The sun was heavy through the windows, thick with dust motes. I should’ve stayed put. I should’ve sat on the couch, watched whatever rerun Bill left playing, and kept my head down.

But the quiet made me restless. And restless made me reckless. I was looking for a book — something to pass the time — when I found it. Tucked in the desk in the corner of the living room, under a stack of old receipts and yellowed bills. A plain envelope. Unsealed. The sight of it made something cold and instinctive twist under my ribs. Because I knew that shape. That weight. An envelope like that had ruined things before. I almost left it alone. Almost. But my hand moved before my brain could catch up. The paper was thin. No name written on it. Just that sick, familiar rectangular dread. Inside — a letterhead I didn’t recognize. Official. Government. I pulled it halfway out. Enough to see the words. Monthly Support Allowance. Dependent Minor. And a number. Not huge. Not nothing.

Enough. Enough to make sense of things I hadn’t wanted to think about. The spare room. The leftovers. The way Cara’s eyes skimmed over me sometimes — not cruel, not warm, just... measuring. I sat back on my heels. Stared at it. Everything blurred a little at the edges — not panic, not fear. Just a hollowing out. A confirmation. I wasn’t there because they cared. I was there because I paid for myself. Like a stray dog that just happened to bring its own leash. I put the letter back. Careful. Slow. Exactly how I found it. Closed the drawer without a sound. And stood there for a long time, the silence thick and heavy around me. The world didn’t shift. The house didn’t collapse. Nothing changed. Except me.

I walked back to the couch, sat down, stared at the flickering TV without seeing it. The couch was still sagging. The clock still ticked unevenly. The blanket Cara left out was folded over the armrest, waiting. And yet. Everything was different now. Because the thing I didn’t want to believe — the thing I pretended wasn’t true — was written plain on paper. People didn’t keep me around because they cared. They kept me because it was useful. Because I made sense on a spreadsheet. Because it was easy. I didn’t cry. Not even when the weight settled — not just in my chest, but behind my eyes, behind my teeth, in the way my hands stayed perfectly still in my lap. I just sat there. Breathing through it. Like always. When Cara came home later, she smiled — the tight, tired smile of someone who didn’t expect anything back. I smiled too. Tighter. Smaller. I ate dinner. Washed my plate. Said thank you. Pretended the oatmeal, the blanket, the sticky notes — all of it — still meant something.

Because it was easier than leaving. And because deep down, I already knew — there wasn’t anywhere else to go.

The hallway was quiet.

Dim.

The only light came from a crack under one of the doors — Winter’s, probably — and the faint orange wash of the streetlamps leaking through the front window. The house smelled like dust and old coffee. Not heavy. Not sharp. Just there. Lived-in.

I stood still for a minute.

Just breathing.

Listening.

I wasn’t in the living room anymore.

I wasn’t with Ningning, or anyone else.

It was just me now.

The hallway stretched ahead — narrow, dim, the walls close enough to touch. The familiar sag of the ceiling. The uneven line where the paint changed color halfway down.

It would’ve been easy to keep walking. Past the kitchen. Past the front door. Shoes by the mat. Jacket on the hook.

It would’ve been easy to disappear.

I’d done it before.

Slip out.

Start over.

New place. New couch to crash on. New lie to tell myself about why it didn’t matter. Why I didn’t matter.

But my feet didn’t move.

I stood there, breathing too shallow, the air too dry in my throat.

It wasn’t like before.

Before, it was survival. Simple math. Leave before someone left you.

Now—

Now, there was weight.

There were people that really cared.

Small, stupid moments I didn’t want to admit I remembered: Karina watching me like she was waiting for me to break. Winter’s steady quiet, like she knew but wasn’t going to ask. Ningning tossing a blanket over me in the dark like it was nothing, like it was normal.

And Giselle.

I wasn’t sure what Giselle was.

A choice, maybe.

A door I wasn’t ready to open.

I breathed out slowly.

Looked down the hall.

Her room was at the end. Same plain white door. Same worn brass knob.

Same distance I could’ve crossed in ten steps, maybe less.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t lift my hand.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

Because it felt like standing there was a decision. Like the moment before you step off a ledge — not falling, not flying. Just the stretch of time when anything is still possible.

I thought about the girls — each of them saying something they probably didn’t think would matter.

Karina’s steady voice: You don’t owe anyone a role to play.

Winter’s quiet glance, as if she knew what I was thinking, even if she didn’t say it.

Ningning’s lopsided smile: You look like someone who forgets to eat a lot.

Not big moments.

Not confessions or demands.

Just... being seen.

I wasn’t used to it.

Not without cost.

Not without an envelope somewhere in the background, waiting to tell me what I was worth in numbers.

I stared at Giselle’s door.

Wondered — if I opened it — if I would find the same thing.

An offer. A price. A countdown.

Or maybe—

Maybe it was different. Maybe she was different. I didn’t know.

And for the first time in a long time, I hated not knowing.

I shifted my weight.

The floor creaked under my heel.

And before I could knock—

The door moved.

Slow.

Soundless.

The latch clicked as it released, and the door swung inward an inch.

Then another.

Giselle stood there.

Barefoot. Sweatshirt hanging loose. Hair messy and half-shadowed by the dim light spilling from behind her.

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t smile.

She just looked at me.

And that was worse.

Because in that look — in the way she held it — was something I hadn’t been ready for.

Not demand.

Not expectation.

Just—

A silent question.

Are you coming in?

Are you staying?

I swallowed.

The hallway stretched behind me — a straight shot to the front door, to the familiar ache of leaving before anyone could tell me to.

But I didn’t turn around.

I didn’t move back.

I didn’t move forward either.

Not yet.

Giselle didn’t reach for me.

She just stood there — a door half-open — not a trap, not a promise.

Just a choice.

I stood there, heart a little too fast, breath a little too shallow.

Waiting.

We both were.

No words. No movement. Just her hand on the doorframe and that same steady, open look I wasn’t used to being given.

The house behind me was silent now. Everyone tucked away behind closed doors, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel like peace—it felt like something holding its breath.

Giselle didn’t say anything. She didn’t invite me in. She didn’t step aside. She just waited, letting the moment sit between us the way she always did—like silence was something that didn’t scare her.

I stayed where I was, hands at my sides, feeling the weight of the day settle into my chest.

I thought about Karina earlier, her words still playing under my ribs. You don’t have to do this alone.

I thought about Winter, the way she didn’t look at me like I was broken. Just there. Just present.

I thought about Ningning, always half teasing, half real, offering what she could in her own way.

And now this—Giselle, not asking anything. Not expecting anything.

Just... here.

I didn’t realize my hands were clenched until I forced them to uncurl. My skin felt too tight, my throat too dry.

She tilted her head slightly, the smallest motion, like she could see all of it—the hesitation, the weight I wasn’t speaking—and wasn’t going to rush me.

The door creaked in her hand as it shifted, but she didn’t pull it wider. She didn’t do anything except stay there, watching me with the kind of patience that felt less like waiting and more like... trust.

The kind of trust you didn’t earn with words.

The kind you could only take if you meant to keep it.

I stood there, the air between us heavy and thin all at once.

It should’ve been easy. One step. One choice.

But the truth was, every step I’d ever taken had been away—from places, from people, from the things that tried to claim me.

And here I was, on the edge of another choice. Stay. Or leave.

The hallway behind me felt colder suddenly, stretched out and empty like a road I didn’t want to walk again.

Inside her room, the light was low. Soft. Her bed was unmade, the covers rumpled, a sweatshirt tossed across the edge like she hadn’t cared enough to move it. A book was face down on the nightstand, a pair of headphones tangled beside it.

It didn’t look like a stage. It didn’t look like a trap.

It looked real.

And that scared me more than anything.

Because real meant it wasn’t about pretending.

Real meant if I stepped in, it wouldn’t be something I could explain away later. Wouldn’t be a mistake I could fold up and tuck into the corner of my mind with all the other things I refused to name.

It would mean I’d chosen it.

Her.

I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Let it sit there, sharp and dry in my throat.

Giselle’s fingers brushed against the side of the doorframe, just once, like she was resisting the urge to reach out.

Not pulling me.

Not pushing.

Just waiting.

I took a step forward.

Slow. Careful. Like the floor might give out under me if I wasn’t sure enough.

She didn’t move.

I took another.

The door stayed half-open, the threshold narrowing until there wasn’t enough space between us for doubt to slip through.

She let go of the frame then, hand falling back to her side.

And still—still—she didn’t say a word.

She didn’t need to.

I was the one who had to speak, in the only language that mattered—movement. Choice.

I stepped inside.

Crossed the threshold like it was more than a doorway.

It was a line.

A before and after.

I could feel it under my skin, humming low and steady—the kind of shift you don’t notice until you’re already on the other side and realize you’re never going back.

Giselle moved, then. Quiet. A step backward, giving me space. Not taking the lead. Not closing the door.

Just... making room.

I stayed where I was for a moment, breathing in the air that smelled faintly of her shampoo and something softer—something like paper and sleep and the trace of perfume on skin.

Giselle watched me.

Not impatient. Not pleading. Just watching.

And then, slow, she lifted her hand. Not to grab me. Not to guide me. Just an open palm, reaching out, fingers barely curled.

I looked at it for a second longer than I should have.

Then—carefully, deliberately—I let my hand find hers.

The contact was light at first. A brush of skin. A test.

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t tighten her fingers around mine.

Just waited.

I closed my hand around hers.

Her palm was warm.

Steady.

She gave the barest pull—not even a tug, just a suggestion—and I followed, letting her guide me farther into the room.

The door stayed open behind us.

She didn’t shut it.

She didn’t have to.

I wasn’t leaving.

Not yet.

Maybe not at all.

I let her lead me to the bed, the soft give of the mattress against the back of my knees, the low hum of the night settling in around us like a second skin.

She sat first, pulling her hand away slowly, giving me the choice again.

Stay or leave.

I sat.

The mattress dipped under my weight, the distance between us closing, folding in.

Giselle leaned back, one hand braced behind her, the other still resting lightly on the comforter.

I looked at her—really looked.

Not at the curve of her mouth or the line of her throat.

Not at the flush high on her cheeks or the way her lashes cast shadows under her eyes.

I looked at her.

And she looked right back. No armor. No masks.

Just two people, breathing the same air, trying not to blink first.

The quiet wasn’t heavy anymore. It was waiting.

And this time, I wasn’t afraid of what would happen if I answered it.

I shifted closer.

She tilted her head, the smallest tilt, like she was meeting me halfway without moving at all.

I raised my hand, slow, careful, and let it rest on her thigh. Light. Testing.

She didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just exhaled—soft, steady. I slid my hand higher.

Her breath hitched.

But she didn’t pull away. Didn’t stop me.

And when I leaned in, when our foreheads brushed, she closed her eyes.

Not in fear. Not in resignation. In trust.

I stayed like that for a moment, breathing her in, feeling the way the world narrowed down to the space between us.

No pressure. No weight. Just presence.

When she leaned up and kissed me—slow, sure—it wasn’t the start of something reckless.

It wasn’t a mistake.

It was a decision.

One we made together.

And this time, I didn’t hesitate.

I kissed her back.

The kiss deepened—slow at first, then sharper, a building current neither of us tried to fight. Her fingers tightened in my hair, not rough but deliberate, tilting my head back slightly so she could press her mouth harder against mine. I let her. For now.

She kissed like she moved—measured, practiced, but with a current underneath that she wasn’t trying to hide. She bit my lower lip, pulled just enough to make me grunt low in my throat.

I opened my eyes. She was already looking at me, eyes dark, mouth swollen.

I slid my hand up her thigh, fingers trailing under the hem of her sweatshirt, feeling the heat of her skin.

She didn’t stop me.

But when I tried to push the sweatshirt higher, she caught my wrist.

Firm.

Controlling.

She shook her head once—slow, almost a smile—and leaned back just enough that I had to follow her to keep the kiss. I pressed closer, chasing it, but she pressed her palm flat against my chest.

"Wait," she murmured, voice low and steady.

It wasn’t a no.

It was a command.

She pushed, and I let her. Let her guide me back until I was sitting, legs open, feet flat on the floor.

She straddled me, one knee on either side, the hem of her sweatshirt riding up over her thighs. No rush. No theatrics. Just moving like she owned the pace now.

I let her.

She kissed me again—harder this time, setting the rhythm. Her fingers brushed down my arms, then back up, slow, tracing the veins, the tendons, the kind of touches that weren’t about tenderness—they were about reading me. Learning the map of tension and patience and control.

Her hands found the hem of my shirt.

She didn’t yank it.

She peeled it off—slow, deliberate—like she wanted to take her time seeing me.

I helped, but just enough.

She tossed the shirt aside, then sat back, fingers splayed on my chest, nails scratching lightly over skin.

I reached for her hips, but she shifted—subtle—and caught my wrists again.

Firm.

In charge.

I smiled against her mouth. “Bossy.”

Her eyes glinted. “You’re the one who followed me in here.”

She leaned in, pressing her weight against my wrists, pinning them to the bed.

And for a second—just a second—I let her.

Let her hold me there, her mouth tracing along my jaw, the line of my throat, teeth grazing just enough to make me twitch.

When she bit down—soft but sharp—on the muscle where my shoulder met my neck, I groaned.

And then—fast—I flipped her.

Not rough.

Not punishing.

Just a shift of weight, a counter to her hold, rolling us until she was on her back and I was over her, braced on one arm, the other hand still caught in hers.

She grinned up at me—breathless, wild, not surprised at all.

I kissed her then—hard, deep, taking back what she’d stolen.

She didn’t fight it.

She gave as good as she got, hands threading in my hair, pulling me closer, one leg hooking around my waist to drag me down against her.

I pressed into her, grinding slow, deliberate.

She arched into it, mouth parting on a gasp, and when she rolled her hips up to meet me, the friction made both of us groan.

I pulled back—barely—just enough to look at her.

Hair a mess around her face, lips red, breath coming fast.

“Take it off,” I said, voice low, brushing the hem of her sweatshirt with my fingers.

She didn’t hesitate.

She sat up just enough to pull it over her head and toss it aside. No bra. Just her—bare, flushed, perfect.

I sat back on my heels to take her in.

She shifted, sitting up, reaching for the button of my jeans. Her hands were sure, practiced. She popped the button, dragged the zipper down slow, teasing, and when I lifted my hips, she tugged them down, along with my boxers.

I kicked them off, and for a beat, we just looked at each other.

Then she pushed me back.

Flat.

Straddled me again.

Her hand wrapped around me, firm, confident, stroking slow, her thumb brushing the head just to make me bite back a sound.

“Not so bossy now,” she murmured.

I grinned, but didn’t fight her.

Let her take what she wanted.

She leaned down, kissed me hard, her hand still working me slow, driving me half-crazy with the pace.

But two could play that game.

I slid my hands up her thighs, slow, nails dragging lightly over her skin, and when I reached her hips, I pulled her forward—grinding her against me, dragging her slick heat over my cock.

She gasped into my mouth.

I did it again.

Harder this time.

Her hand faltered.

I gripped her hips, steady, controlled, and lifted—just enough to tease the head of my cock against her entrance.

She whimpered—low, frustrated.

I didn’t give in.

I held her there, just teasing, just enough pressure to make her breath hitch.

“Say please,” I murmured.

She glared at me, but her hips rocked forward, desperate for more friction.

I stayed still.

Waited.

Finally, she exhaled. “Please.”

I pushed in—slow, deep—watching her mouth fall open, watching her eyes flutter shut.

She was tight, hot, perfect around me.

I gave her a second. Then another.

Then started to move.

Slow thrusts, deep and deliberate, making her take all of it, making her feel every inch.

She sat up more, hands braced on my chest, riding the rhythm I set.

But she didn’t stay passive.

She matched me—thrust for thrust, grind for grind—meeting me halfway, owning her half of it.

I shifted, rolled us again—her back hitting the mattress, me over her, one hand catching both her wrists and pinning them above her head.

She moaned, arching up into me, legs wrapping tight around my waist.

I kissed her hard, deep, claiming her mouth the way I claimed her body.

But then—sneaky, sure—she twisted one hand free, grabbed my jaw, and pulled me up to look at her.

“You’re not the only one who gets to be in control,” she said, breathless.

I grinned, leaning down to kiss her jaw. “Prove it.”

She shoved me, hard, flipping us again.

I let her.

Flat on my back, her riding me now, hands braced on my chest, head thrown back as she set the pace.

Hard. Fast.

Punishing.

I groaned, gripping her hips, letting her use me.

She leaned forward, kissed me hard, teeth grazing my lip, biting just enough to make me hiss.

I bucked up into her, sharp, deliberate. She gasped. I did it again.

Her hands tightened on my chest, nails digging in.

Push. Pull. Give. Take.

No one really in charge.

Just two people, dragging control back and forth between them until neither of us knew who had it anymore.

And neither of us cared.

Giselle’s rhythm was ruthless—steady, grinding, forcing me to feel every drag, every slick slide of her along my cock. She braced her hands on my chest, nails digging in, leaving faint crescent marks as she rode me.

Not wild.

Not frantic.

Controlled.

Calculated.

Her breath came fast, but her eyes—dark, locked on mine—never wavered.

When I tried to grab her hips, guide her faster, she caught my wrists. Pressed them back into the bed.

“No,” she said, voice low, tight.

I smirked, but I let her.

She shifted her weight forward, dragging her body along mine, grinding her clit against my stomach, hips working slow and relentless as she kept her hands on my wrists.

I flexed under her, arching up, trying to regain a little ground, but she just smiled—slow, wicked—and pressed her palms harder against me.

“Stay down.”

I didn’t argue.

I just breathed.

Watched.

Let her set the pace.

She kept grinding, circling her hips in slow, perfect motions that drove me fucking crazy. The heat of her, the weight of her—every shift in pressure deliberate, teasing.

She leaned down and kissed me again.

Not soft. Not tender.

Her mouth was hot, her tongue insistent, teeth catching my lower lip and pulling before she kissed me deeper.

I growled low in my throat, bucked up hard, but she held steady, thighs tightening around my hips to pin me in place.

She broke the kiss, breathing hard, lips swollen.

“Not yet,” she whispered against my mouth.

I exhaled sharply, chest rising fast under her weight.

She smiled—just a little—then rocked her hips harder, dragging a moan out of both of us.

I clenched my jaw.

Held on.

But when she shifted her hands—just a little, to brace herself on my chest again—I moved.

Fast.

Caught her around the waist and flipped her.

She gasped—surprised, but not scared.

Her legs wrapped around me instantly, keeping me close.

I braced one hand beside her head, the other sliding down her body, palm flat against her stomach.

“Your turn,” I murmured, voice low, dangerous.

She grinned, but there was a challenge in her eyes now.

I thrust into her hard.

Deep.

She gasped, head tipping back against the pillow, mouth falling open.

I set the pace this time—slow, deep strokes, grinding my hips against her slit at the end of every thrust.

She took it.

But she didn’t give in.

Her legs tightened around me, and with a sudden twist, she rolled us again, dragging me over until I was on my back and she was straddling me.

She braced her hands on my shoulders, grinding down, setting a punishing rhythm.

I gritted my teeth, grabbed her hips again, but she batted my hands away.

“No,” she said again, breathless but firm. “Mine.”

I let her have it.

Let her work me over—grinding, riding me hard, fast, relentless.

She was close.

I could feel it—the way her thighs trembled, the way her breath caught every time her hips slammed down.

But she didn’t rush it.

She rode the edge, keeping both of us there, torturing us with control.

I groaned, hips jerking up into her, and this time she let me.

She shifted her weight, rode me harder, grinding her clit against me with every stroke.

I reached up, grabbed her breast, thumb circling her nipple, and she gasped—sharp, involuntary.

She leaned down, bit my shoulder—sharp, enough to leave a mark—and I thrust up into her harder, dragging another sound from her throat.

Push.

Pull.

She pressed her forehead to mine, breathing hard.

“You gonna come for me?” she whispered.

I smiled, breathless. “Only if you do first.”

She ground down harder, faster, chasing it now.

I slid my hand between us, thumb brushing her clit, rubbing in tight circles, and she gasped again—sharp, desperate.

“Fuck—”

She didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down.

She bit her lip, riding me harder, faster, desperate for it now.

I thrust up into her, matching her, driving her higher.

Her nails dug into my shoulders.

Her breath hitched.

And then she broke.

Came hard, grinding down against me, gasping, shaking, her whole body seizing around mine.

I groaned, thrusting up into her, chasing my own release.

She kept moving—riding me through it—ruthless even in her own unraveling.

I didn’t last much longer.

I growled low, grabbed her hips, and thrust up hard, once, twice—then came.

Hard.

Deep inside her.

She collapsed against me, breathless, trembling.

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her there, feeling the way her body still shuddered in the aftermath.

Neither of us moved for a while.

Just breathing.

Sharing the heat, the sweat, the wreckage we’d made of each other.

Slowly, Giselle lifted her head.

Her hair was a mess around her face. Her cheeks were flushed, lips red, eyes dark and still wild.

She smiled.

Not coy.

Not smug.

Just... happy.

She leaned down, kissed me once—slow, deep, grateful.

Then she pulled back, settled against me, her head on my chest.

I stroked her hair, slow, steady.

Neither of us said anything.

We didn’t need to.

Giselle’s breathing evened out slowly, her body still stretched across mine, her skin warm and damp against my chest. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t rush to fill the quiet with words. Just traced slow, idle shapes against my ribs with the tip of her finger.

I kept my hand in her hair, stroking gently.

It wasn’t a question.

Wasn’t a comfort.

Just... there.

For once, the silence didn’t feel like a weight. It didn’t press on my ribs or sink into my lungs. It just settled.

Safe.

Steady.

Eventually, Giselle shifted. Lifted her head enough to look at me, her hair falling in messy strands over her cheek. Her eyes were clear now—no challenge, no performance. Just her.

The real her.

She studied me like she was still memorizing.

Like she was trying to understand something I hadn’t said out loud yet.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low, rough from everything we hadn’t held back.

I nodded once.

Didn’t lie.

Didn’t pretend.

She sat up slowly, straddling me still, hands braced lightly on my stomach. She didn’t move to get off. Didn’t shift away. Just stayed there, close enough that the warmth between us didn’t cool.

Her fingers brushed my chest—soft, tentative.

“You think we just want you around because it’s easy,” she said.

Not a question.

I didn’t answer.

She tilted her head, studying me like she could see it anyway.

“But it’s not.”

I stayed quiet.

“It’s messy,” she said, mouth twitching at the corner. “It’s complicated. ”

I swallowed, throat dry.

“And it’s worth it.”

I looked at her then. Really looked.

She met my gaze without flinching.

“This isn’t charity,” she said. “Or convenience. It’s you.”

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Giselle leaned down again, slower this time, resting her forehead lightly against mine.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be anything.”

Her breath warmed my skin.

“You’re already enough.”

Something tight in my chest pulled.

Stretched. Fractured. Not in a way that hurt.

In a way that loosened everything I’d been carrying for too long.

I closed my eyes for a second. Took a breath. She didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. She just stayed. Soft. Steady. Real.

When I opened my eyes again, she was watching me—quiet, patient.

I reached up.

Brushed a hand along her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her eyes softened, and for a second, neither of us breathed.

Then I whispered it, so low it barely made a sound:

“I’ll stay.”

Her breath caught.

Just a little.

But she didn’t smile.

Didn’t break.

Just leaned in and kissed me—soft, slow, careful.

Not because she didn’t want more.

But because she knew it wasn’t needed.

When she pulled back, she pressed her forehead to mine again.

Her hand slid down to find mine, fingers threading through, slow and sure.

I squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back.

And for the first time in a long time, the quiet felt like mine.

Like home.

1 YEAR LATER

The house was louder now.

Not chaotic. Just alive.

Ningning’s voice carried from the kitchen, sharp with laughter as she argued over something small—whose turn it was to buy milk or who forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste. Winter’s low, amused drawl followed, a counterpoint, half-hearted in its defense.

Karina was cross-legged on the living room floor, sorting through a stack of vinyl records she insisted she’d organize two months ago. She muttered to herself under her breath, squinting at labels, trying to decide what to keep and what to get rid of.

And Giselle—

Giselle was sitting on the couch, socked feet pulled up, balancing a mug of coffee on her knee like it might float there indefinitely if she concentrated hard enough. She was scrolling on her phone, but not really looking at it. Every few minutes, she glanced around the room, like she was doing a quiet headcount she didn’t want anyone to catch her at.

I leaned against the doorway.

Just... watching.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have known how to stand like this. Easy. Present. Not braced for the next crash.

Ningning caught sight of me first.

She grinned, sharp and bright. "If you’re just gonna lurk, you can at least make yourself useful."

I smirked. "Define useful."

"Milk run!" she shouted, already tossing her wallet at me from across the kitchen.

I caught it one-handed.

Winter snorted. "You realize he's the only reason we don’t live in absolute chaos, right?"

"Debatable," I said.

Winter smiled—small, genuine. "Appreciated though."

I shrugged. Casual. But the warmth in my chest stuck.

Karina, without looking up, added, "If you find that vinyl cleaner I ordered, grab it."

"You still cleaning records?" I asked.

"Organization is a long-term project," she said, deadpan.

Ningning made a gagging sound. Winter threw a balled-up napkin at her. It hit her square in the forehead, and she gasped like she’d been mortally wounded.

Normal.

Not perfect. Not polished.

Just normal.

I pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room, handing Ningning’s wallet back with a pointed look.

"You can add it to the next grocery run," I said. "I’m off-duty today."

"You’re off-duty every day," she grumbled, but there was no heat in it.

I glanced at Giselle.

She hadn’t said anything. But she was watching. Phone forgotten, mug balanced perfectly still.

I met her eyes.

She smiled.

Small. Private. Just for me.

I nodded once, barely a tilt of my chin, and that was enough.

Ningning pulled me back with a nudge. "Seriously though, Mylo. Help me out."

"With what?"

She pointed dramatically at the floor. "The cereal graveyard."

A scattering of loops and flakes dotted the hardwood where she’d clearly dropped the box and decided it was someone else’s problem.

I sighed, grabbed a broom from behind the door, and started sweeping.

Winter crouched beside me, pretending to help. "Remember when you didn’t live here?"

"Vaguely."

"You were quieter then."

"You were more suspicious."

She grinned. "Still am."

"Good," I said.

Because it meant she hadn’t lost the edge that made her, her. No smoothing over. No pretending.

Ningning flopped onto the couch beside Giselle once the floor was cereal-free, dramatically declaring, "Domestic life is so hard."

"Tragic," Karina said, tossing a record onto the 'keep' pile.

Giselle laughed softly.

I straightened up, broom in hand, and looked around the room.

No part of me felt like an outsider anymore.

I wasn't a guest. I wasn’t a problem waiting to happen. I was just... here.

A part of the noise.

A part of the quiet.

Ningning was already halfway into a new argument with Winter about who left the bathroom light on. Karina was shaking her head at a warped record she’d apparently been meaning to toss for years.

Giselle set her mug down and stretched, toes brushing Ningning’s knee, who shoved her half-heartedly in retaliation.

She looked at me again.

Just a glance.

But there was history in it.

The kind you build, day by day, by not disappearing.

I crossed the room and sat on the floor near Karina, who immediately shoved a stack of records at me.

"Sort by year."

"So I'm a slave now?."

She smirked. "Equal opportunity employer."

I picked up the top record and flipped it over. 1978. Already dusty.

Ningning threw a pillow at Winter. Winter ducked, laughing. Giselle leaned back, hair falling over her face as she smiled at something on her phone.

I slid the record into the 'keep' pile.

The house buzzed and breathed around me, alive with the easy, sharp edges of people who weren’t perfect—but who didn’t expect me to be, either.

No roles to play.

No scripts to recite.

And when I glanced up, Giselle was looking at me—steady, sure—and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t wonder why.

I just smiled back.

I just stayed.

THE END

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