#but there is not one thought in that pretty head of yours
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planetaryupscaled · 1 day ago
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Fabricated Persona
Male Reader x Wonyoung
Tags: 28k, smut, anal, creampie, oral, dub con, tw
The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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It was 1:32 a.m. when the doorbell rang. Curious, I went to the door and peered through the peep hole. Wonyoung was standing outside the door. It took a moment just to admire her pretty face, she was gorgeous.
I unlocked the door, but before I could greet her properly, Wonyoung had pushed past me and made a beeline for our kitchen. I closed the door hastily and followed her, just in time to see her bend over our sink. Several of my lustful fantasies were given a sharp kick in the groin. She raised her arm and waved angrily at me as I stood awkwardly in the hallway.
“Where’s my sister?”
“Sleeping.”
“Get over here,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Hold my hair back!” she hissed.
I approached her from behind and grabbed the bunched hair she was holding in her right hand. I turned on the faucet and let it run. Wonyoung seemed to react to the sound of running water and sighed, bending over the sink and pushing her ass into my crotch, unconsciously, I think.
“If you think you can make it,” I said, ignoring the warmth of her behind, “I can take you to the bathroom. I don’t want you to clog the sink.” She gave an annoyed groan. “Fine then,” I said, sweeping more of her hair behind her ears as we both leaned over the sink, waited for her to get sick again. “Fun night?” I inquired.
“Oh fuck you,” she grumbled, placing her hands on the sink’s rim and relaxing a little. “I didn’t know you were back in town,” I said.
“Stop talking,” she grunted. I realized that Wonyoung was drunk, and it probably took as long as it did for me to realize it because I was gradually sobering up. I realized, however, that she was probably more drunk than I’d thought, and I reminded myself not to let her fall asleep with us in this precariously impolitic situation.
Wonyoung heaved. The strain on her body drove her ass backward into my groin forcing me to reach out to keep from tipping off my feet. I grabbed, unsurprisingly, at the prominent curve of her anatomy, her right breast.
She didn't shrug me off because she was probably too drunk to care. I used the handhold to get myself back on my feet but then, failing to be slapped, I kept my hand where it was. Wonyoung groaned as she leaned over the sink, ass straight out. I realized too late that I was unapologetically copping a feel.
Was it worth it? Definitely. It reacted against my fingers with a springy vitality, its swollen roundness so elegantly pronounced on an attractive woman in this inelegant state. I squeezed. Here this poor girl was trying to barf in my sink and I groped her like any drunken frat boy. Call me an asshole, I regret nothing.
I gave one more tentative squeeze before she swatted my hand away. My dick stirred in my pants and I hoped that she didn’t feel it, or was too far gone to care.
“I’m fine!” she barked. She must have thought I was trying to keep her on her feet. “Keep your hands off my tits,” she told me. Maybe not.
“It was an accident.”
“Yeah,” she said with a smirk. We waited together for her to vomit again but after fifteen minutes she finally asked to be sat down in the kitchen and given a glass of water. I had brought her a blanket and was about to retire when she grabbed my wrist and told me to get her purse. She had left it on the kitchen table when she smashed into the kitchen. I picked it up, handed it to her.
I sat down next to her on the couch and watched her cross her legs. The jeans had so many holes and rips that I could clearly see the muscles in her thighs flexing against each other. She searched for something inside the purse and I saw no harm in taking the opportunity to stare right down her cleavage while she had her head bowed. I had never had such an unobstructed view of her chest and after leaning over the sink for so long her breasts were now fully in view. But I was satisfied with the sight before me, her chest expanding greatly as she regained her breath from the awkward crush of bending over the sink.
Wonyoung pulled her hand away from her purse and pressed something against my forearms. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Money.” she said. Right. Wonyoung snapped her purse closed and put it on the ground at her feet. She kicked off her shoes. Then she laid her fingers over her bare knees and finally looked up at me. Clearly the girl was pissed, but she wanted me to see her anger, not the fear behind it. I saw both and was curious, not to mention still buzzed enough to want to take my new mental images with me to the bathroom.
“I need you to hold this for me.”
“The money?”
She let out an annoyed grimace. “I can’t believe my sister dating a dummy.”
“Hey,” I said, handing the money back, “if that’s the way you want to be.” She shoved her hands against mine. “No, sorry, God. Just take the money.”
“Jinyoung…”
“Don’t!” she hissed. “Don’t let her know. Put it someplace she won’t find.”
“Um,” I said, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I don’t—”
“Please,” she said. That was new.
“Okay,” I said, more from exhaustion than common sense.
“And I won’t tell her you touched my tit.” I chuckled. “That was an accident.”
“Whatever. You stare at them all the time.”
We left it at that and Wonyoung curled up on the sofa. I took the money and hid it in the same panel of my toolbox where I hide my cigs. The next morning Wonyoung was gone. According to Jinyoung she was staying with their parents for a few days. I actually forgot about the money for a few weeks until I tried to sneak a cigarette the next month. Wonyoung called her sister a few weeks after that to invite us to her new place. We drove over. But Jinyoung hardly spoke the whole time and I realized that she’d actually been fairly distant for the last week. I asked if there was something the matter. After some cajoling, she told me that a few weeks back, some money were stolen from her parents’ house. The money had been saved for a rainy day. Instantly I thought of the cache of bills stashed in my toolbox.
“Do they know who took it?” I asked. Jinyoung shook her head. “Nothing else was taken so whoever stole it must have known it was there.” She paused for a moment, “…that means it must have been someone in the family.” Jinyoung was visibly shaken. I wondered if I should say something but decided to hear the rest first.
“Who?” I asked. Jinyoung sighed. “They’re not sure. The last time they had anyone over was weeks ago and they just realized the money was missing this week.”
It had to have been her sister. I wasn’t sure for what, and I definitely didn’t know why she thought she could get away with stealing something so conspicuous, but there it was. Yet a shred of doubt clung to my mind. Maybe it was a complete coincidence. Maybe last month Wonyoung had just come into a fortuitous quantity of money and wanted to unload it somewhere without telling her sister. Yeah… Right.
We were on our way up to Wonyoung’s apartment when Jinyoung suddenly stopped. “I forgot the wine,” she said. I myself had forgotten we were here to celebrate Wonyoung’s birthday. “I’ll go,” I said. “Just tell me what to get.”
“No, no,” Jinyoung was already putting a list together in her head. “I also need to get a card and that chocolate she likes.”
“Alright, well, let’s go.” I started heading back towards the car.
“No,” she said. “Stay here. I think Wonyoung’s setting up for the party later.”
I didn’t relish the idea of spending time alone with Wonyoung. She had never been my biggest fan. But it might give me a chance to find out what was going on with the enigmatic cash. After Jinyoung gave me a quick kiss and sprinted back to the car, I walked up the slightly damp stairs to Wonyoung’s place. When she opened the door, she was beaming. But the smile vanished when Wonyoung saw it was me alone.
“Where’s my sister?” she said flatly.
“Had to go pick up some things. She asked me to help you.” I followed her into the apartment.
“Everything’s already set up,” she said distractedly. As she crossed to the kitchen, I got a look at her swivelling bottom. The party was not for several hours and she had yet to get fully dressed. Wonyoung was wearing gym shorts and a black cropped top. She trod barefoot through the small but welcoming apartment. Banners and streamers hung from the ceiling and a table stacked neatly with cups and an assortment of alcohol was pushed against the wall. When I closed the door, Wonyoung was all business.
“Do you still have the money?”
“Uh—” I started. “Yeah.”
“Is it with you?”
“Why would I have it with me?”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes as if somehow it was her great misfortune to be partnered with so inept a criminal companion. Her lips, which were pressed together in a firm arc of disapproval, were a deep red. She began to speak again but I volleyed first. “Where’d you get that money anyway?”
She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands coolly on her hips. Even half-dressed she was a knockout. Her black hair was a little longer than shoulder length and straight and shiny as leaking oil. Her skin was pale and smooth like a porcelain. Then of course there was her chest, amply stacked below her round shoulders. Wonyoung’s painted nails tapped against her hips, probably wider than she liked but undeniably curvaceous. She had thighs that looked like they could wrap around a man’s back with dire consequences.
“Before you ask if that’s my business,” I said, raising a finger to staunch her bubbling protest, “bear in mind you did leave the money in my care.”
“What…” she spat. “‘Bear in mind,’ ‘in my care,’ who the hell talks like that?”
“Are you angry because I’m choosing my words carefully or because you’re trying to figure out an excuse?”
Wonyoung gave me an icy glare. “It’s just money,” she said. “I started a new bank account and I hadn’t withdrawn all the cash from my old one. I didn’t want to be walking the street with that much on me so I wanted Jinyoung to hold it for me.”
“But you told me not to tell Jinyoung.”
Wonyoung’s lips twitched. “You were a little drunk, maybe you don’t remember,” She said “…and I didn’t want her to see me drunk,” she said quickly. “That’s all I meant. You could have told her about the money.”
“Should I tell her when she gets back?”
Wonyoung swallowed hard. I could see the gears working overtime behind the white cloud of her eyes. I wanted to see how much she would admit to before I brought up about the burglarized. “No,” she said slowly. Then, “Where is it?”
“The money?” I asked.
Wonyoung nodded. A few strands of bangs fell over her eyes fetchingly. I couldn’t help notice her breasts jiggle slightly too. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
“It’s… safe,” I said. A strange but powerful notion peeked from within the dark recesses of my brain.
Wonyoung wiped the hair back from her face and bit her lower lip. We were standing roughly ten feet apart from each other, she at the counter of her kitchen and I very close to the front door. “It’s not my money,” she said.
“Oh?”
She narrowed her eyes again. “You jerk.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, I didn’t take the money. And I’m pretty sure I know where you got it from.” This shook her. “What do you mean?” she said.
“It’s your parents, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?” was out of poor her beautiful mouth before she knew how to reattach her poker face. She winced and brought her palm to her face. “My sister…”
“Yes, Jinyoung is really upset about that.”
“Does she know?” she said frantically.
“Not yet.”
Wonyoung sighed. She leaned her head to one shoulder. “Okay. So, what?”
“You tell me.”
“Are you going to give me the money?”
“I don’t think so. I feel pretty bad about your parents.”
“They can spare it,” she said acidly. “Do you want to know what I need it for?” I thought about that but I realized I didn’t really care. “No,” I said simply. This pissed her off. “God, you’re so— Fine! Let’s just sit here until Jinyoung gets back so you can tell her all about it!” Wonyoung began to tromp out of sight, into the bedroom, when I raised my alternative.
“Who said I was going to tell her?”
Wonyoung stopped. “You’re not?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. You need the money, I guess, but I don’t know if that makes it right to keep it.”
“If you give it to Jinyoung she’ll ask where it came from.”
“True,” I replied.
“So… what?” Wonyoung asked, frowning and looking at me over an open mouth. “Are you gonna give me the money?”
“I could be persuaded,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Wonyoung asked. “You want some?”
I grinned. “No.” My eyes were unapologetically lingering on her cleavage. Wonyoung actually followed my gaze to her own chest. When she looked up, she had this rage in her eyes. “You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.” She said.
I crossed my arms. “What am I thinking, Wony?”
“You’re a fucking jerk,” she said. “I’m telling Jinyoung.”
“Tell her what? That I stared at your chest because you stole the money?” She stared at the ground for a half second before looking up at me from under her dark fringe of hair. “What do you… want?” she asked.
“Well let’s get one thing out of the way first. What do you want?”
It took longer than it should have for Wonyoung to realize we were making a transaction. But she got it eventually. “I want…” she stopped herself and cleared her throat. “The money. I want you to bring it to me.”
“Okay,” I said. “You took it for your own reasons. I wash my hands of that. One day maybe you can square it with your family.”
“What do you want?” she asked apprehensively. There was a note of tension that eased into an uncertain fear.
“Um,” I said. “Take off your shirt.” Wonyoung looked offended but also surprised. “That’s it?”
“No. But that’s the start.”
Wonyoung seemed to weigh herself on either foot. She glanced at the door. “If… Jinyoung will be back soon.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. Outside I tried to project a cool control. Inside I was equal parts giddy, excited, fearful. Part of me was given over entirely to the lustful query of how far this could possibly go. I knew exactly what I wanted to do… But part of me didn’t see how Wonyoung could submit to it. She must have really needed that money.
“You want to see my tits?”
“Well, that and a little more,” I said.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
I smiled. “Wony, I don’t want to have sex with you—”
“Then what?”
“How about a titjob?”
Wonyoung made a face. “Ugh. You’re disgusting.” I shrugged happily. “Okay. I’ll give Jinyoung the money when we get back, you and I can just sit here on our hands until she gets back.”
“There’s no way I’m letting your dick anywhere near me.” She said. I looked over at the chairs arranged by the door and sat down. I hooked my ankle over my knee and sat back, arms folded.
“You scumbag…” Wonyoung growled. Then she took three steps forward and crossed her arms over her taut belly. Her fingers grasped the thin fabric of her shirt and she pulled up. I was so excited I almost forgot to say, “Slowly…”
Wonyoung grumbled from somewhere in her shirt but that sound was swallowed by the smooth glide of fabric rushing against her bare skin. Wonyoung pulled up with her lithe arms and then all of a sudden, the swollen undersides of her pale breasts dripped from underneath, sprung from the cotton like fat dewdrops. I saw the first and then the second pink nipple peek from the black top and then sink down with its sister, falling solidly against Wonyoung’s chest and giving a beautiful trembling quiver. She must have been glaring at me as she balled up her shirt and tossed it onto the drink table. But I was enraptured. I drank in just the sight of Wonyoung’s full, exposed breasts. They stood out from her chest, the beautiful nipples pointed not at me but at my forehead, almost the ceiling. The areolas were smaller that made the slope of her unfettered bosom so much sweeter somehow, it was delicate. That, ultimately, was the defining attraction to Wonyoung’s breasts. They were the budded fruit of all her womanly sweetness, a blossomed youth that was sexual and feminine. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Wonyoung crossed over to me. She stopped when she was standing only about three feet away and crossed her arms under her boobs and tried to look bored. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s—”
“No,” I said. “The less you talk the easier this will be to explain.” Wonyoung was furious. But half naked. So, the effect was diminished. I was horny as hell and my dick was doing everything it could to grow hands and undo my zipper itself. “Squeeze yourself,” I said.
Wonyoung grabbed her tits in either hand and squeezed, quickly, and dropped them. She gave an evil grin.
“Do it better than that,” I said. She sighed and raised her hands.
“You’ve just been waiting for this day, haven’t you?” she sneered.
“Oh yes, ma’am,” I replied cheerfully.
“What’s the matter? My sister’s tits not big enough?”
“About the same, but I like yours more, apparently.”
“You freak…” she mumbled as she drew her index fingers across her dark red buttons. “Spit on your hand,” I said. Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“Spit on your hand and rub it on your tits. Rub it all over.” She licked her hand defiantly and smeared it over her left breast.
The skin on her nose wrinkled. It looked like she was ready to hurl another insult but glanced fretfully at the door for an illuminated realization that if her sister walked into the door she’d have both tits in her hands, presenting them to her boyfriend in lustful supplication. Wonyoung brought her palm up to her chin and spat in it, glaring at me. “Spit on your hand again.” I said. This time she did it without protest.
Wonyoung rubbed her saliva into her skin. “Do it again,” I commanded. “Ugh,” she said. She spat again and rubbed it over her breast. It was beautiful. The smooth sheen of her pale skin was now glistening under her apartment lights. I told her to repeat the same for her right tit.
“Lick your palms.” Wonyoung licked her palms and ran them over her breasts. She ran her hands down her chest, to her taut belly. I made her do it several more times. After a minute both of Wonyoung’s breasts were coated in the sticky lather of her saliva. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I reached down to my pants and yanked down the zipper. I’d barely unhooked the button before my dick popped out of my boxers and stuck straight out at Wonyoung. She actually jerked back at the sight of it.
“Holy…” she stammered, looking a little ridiculous, her cheeks shiny from the excess moisture of her spit. ‘Oh my god,’ she moaned. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this. This is so fucking gross.”
I kicked off my shoes and pulled my boxers down with my jeans. I stood up to hook them off my ankles and faced Wonyoung. Separated by less space than we’d ever shared, I gazed down into her muddy brown eyes. “Your dick is poking into my stomach,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Spit on your hand again.” I smiled as she glared up at me and spat what she had left into her palm and rubbed. A wet smacking sound of sticky skin arose between us and I gently pried her hands away and laid my hands on her tits.
I let Wonyoung go on glaring as I ran my fingers over her wet chest and weighed each breast in my hand. Her skin yielded to me. I leaned down and sniffed the spit on her chest and ignored Wonyoung as she slapped ineffectually at my shoulders. I gave her nipples two very welcoming kisses and she pushed me away.
I sat down heavily in the chair, dick sticking straight in the air. I asked her to squeeze herself a few more times before commanding her to get on her knees. Surprisingly she did this without comment. Wonyoung was now sitting with her head and neck more or less aligned with my lap. Her raven hair trailed down over her shoulders. She stared at my dick as it wagged before her nose. Her tits were inches from brushing against my balls. “Let’s get this over with,” she said.
“How do I do this, I’m not that big, it’s not gonna work.”
“Make it work, Wony, rub in it.” I said. Wonyoung didn’t answer. She just leaned in and rubbed her palm over the top of my cock, pressing it hard against her chest. “Is that what you want?” she murmured.
“That’s what I want.”
“You want me to rub my tits over your dick, you shit?”
“Harder,” I commanded her, and she complied. I stroked the back of her neck and humped forward to rub my balls against the sticky surface of her slick stomach. “Ugh,” she groaned.
“You don’t like my balls rubbing against you?”
“No,”
“You don’t mind that dick though.” I said, she didn’t say anything. I couldn’t help myself. I figured if she was willing to go this far, she couldn’t protest to a little dirty talk. “Aren’t you a little slut.”
Wonyoung knew what I was doing. She kept her eyes trained down at my cock peeking up through the tops of her breasts and bent low until it almost hit her neck. Then she flexed and came up again, my swollen dick rubbing down her cleavage and leaving a slimier trail of precum on her smooth pale skin. “Yeah, I’m a little slut,” she replied. “You like getting off on your girlfriend’s sister? That get you off, asshole?”
“Yes,” I said. I grabbed her shoulders and ordered her to rub her tits. “Harder,” I told her. “You want to fuck these tits harder?” she spat. That gave me an idea.
“Spit on it,” I told her.
“On what?”
“You know what.” — A long white trail of spit left Wonyoung’s lips and dribbled over the slit and onto my cockhead. “Kiss it.”
“No,” Wonyoung said. She didn’t look up. Her raven black hair framed her hands wrapped around my cock.
“Spit on it again.” A thin line of saliva left her angry mouth and missed my cock. It hit the wet surface of her breasts and she shook her chin to separate it from her mouth, finally using her hand to wipe it off her lips. “Don’t bother.” I told her.
“I can’t… I’m out of spit.”
“Then use your mouth.” I said as she continued to rub my dick with her breasts. She looked up at me defiantly.
“Use your mouth, Wony. I want my dick wet.”
“That wasn’t what you said you wanted…”
I pulled her hands away. Wonyoung stayed on her knees and wiped at the streaks of spittle on her chest. I cupped her boobs in my hands and rubbed them over my dick. “What am I doing to you right now, Wony?”
“You’re fucking my tits.”
“Good girls don’t let boys rub their dicks all over their tits.”
“Stop,” she said. “You said I could. Say it. Tell me you’re a good girl.” I grabbed her hands and pressed them to her breasts. Together we rubbed my dick in and out of her sticky cleavage. Wonyoung had to arch her back and sit straight while on her knees to let me fuck her tits. She tilted her neck back to keep my dick from banging her face. I wrapped my hands around her bare shoulder and drew her close. “Say you’re a good girl, Wony.”
“I’m not a …” she started “Then say you’re a bad girl.” She glared. “I’m a bad girl,” she muttered.
“Tell me how slutty you are.”
“I’m a slut.” — “How slutty are you, Wony?”
“I fucking hate you,” she said. I wiped some dry spit from her cheek. She almost bit me. I leaned back, bringing her with me. I still had my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what you’re doing.” — “I’m giving my sister’s boyfriend a titjob.”
“I wouldn’t say this was a titjob” — “Fuck you!”
“Well, I’m going to. Do you let lots of boys cum on your breasts?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I want you to say it.” I said. Clearly no one had ordered her around this way before. Her anger was close to being spent and now she just looked incredulous. “I let boys cum on my breasts,” she said flatly. She kept my gaze the entire time, her tits rubbing up and down, up and down, the precum oozing from my dick starting to leave a thick, sudsy trail down her skin. I watched it ooze down her chest and groaned appreciatively.
“You let boys cum on you, Wony?”
“All the time,” she said. “Do you cum on my sister?”
“What do you think?”
“Does she let you cum inside her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Say you’re a slut.”
“No.”
“Say it, Wony.” — “I’m a slut.” she repeated.
“Say you’re my slut.” — “I’m your slut,” she said.
“So put your mouth on my cock,” I demanded. Wonyoung’s eyes widened. She stopped rubbing her tits against me. For a moment she looked, instead of angry, perplexed. Then she looked down at my dick as if she’d forgotten what she’d been rubbing her tits against for the past five minutes.
“Can you spit?” — “No…” she said, still staring down at my cock. It was red and a little chafed but damn it was worth it. “Open your mouth, Wony.”
Her hair fell forward over her forehead as she leaned down. She bent over until my balls were smothered in her breasts and she could breathe over my cock. “Agh,” she said. “God, I can smell your dick.” I leaned up and felt Wonyoung’s puckered lips suck my cockhead. Running my fingers through her hair. I reached down and pulled my dick from her mouth. Mid-suck, I pulled a string of saliva and cum from off her tongue.
I pushed forward. Wonyoung tumbled backward onto the carpet. Her thick thighs widened to let me follow her down. I was suddenly intensely aware of how close I was to fucking a pussy that was not Jinyoung’s. Then again, I’d just had my dick in her sister’s mouth. I crouched over Wonyoung and pinned both of her hands with my own, my dick almost balanced on her chin. Wonyoung stared at it as if it would bite her.
“You don’t deserve my sister,” she hissed. I stroked her hair over her forehead and gazed into her eyes.
“Use your mouth, Wony. Make it wet. Just use your tongue. I’m keeping the money until you make me cum.”
Wonyoung shut her eyes and parted her lips, silently allowing me to slide my shaft across her open mouth. From underneath she stuck out her tongue. I popped my cock back and forth along her mouth, dragging my balls against her lips and pressing my shaft against her high cheekbone, and she dutifully licked it each time it entered her mouth. “Say you’re a slut,” My dick retreated from her face. “I’m a slut,” she repeated. I slipped my dick back over her mouth. “Say it again.”
“uhmaslot,” she mumbled as I entered her mouth. Then I pulled out of her lips and trailed my dick down her cheek and neck until it was resting on her breast.
“You’re asshole,” she hissed. “I hope my sister comes home right now and sees you jerking off on me.”
“I’d fucking love it.” Clear precum was oozing out of my cock and pooling in the hollow of Wonyoung’s neck.
“What about when I tell her what you did to me?”
I trailed my dick down her stomach and rested the base of my shaft against her clit. An expected tremor radiated out of her every limb and her protests were silenced by my mouth over hers. I slid my dick back up her stomach and watched the sticky mess it made of her curvaceous body. “I just needed to get you out of my system,” I told her. “I’m going to cum.”
“Don’t cum on my face,” she said. ‘Don’t you dare,’ she threatened softly. In her eyes was the spark of defiant seduction. “Don’t you dare cum on my face,” she spat. I held my shaft over her neck and made her grab me. As soon as her fingers slipped over my cock, she started jerking me.
“Don’t you dare,” she spat as she tried to point my cock away from her. “Don’t you fucking dare cum on my face.” She repeated. The heels of my palms dug into the carpet and I felt everything between the nape of my neck and my heels seize up. I drove my knees into the carpet beneath her shoulders.
“Jerk me off, Wony. I’m gonna cum.”
Wonyoung pulled at my cock, causing me to cum over her mouth. She closed her eyes as thick ropes of jizz splattered across her nose and hair. She cried and let go. I snatched my dick from her and continued to stroke myself, cumming down her chin and neck before grabbing each breast to rub my cum over her tits.
“Do you like cumming on me?” Wonyoung gasped. I watched my cum stretch over her opened lips and immediately squirted again over her neck. “Is this how you fuck my sister?”
“Never,” I huffed. It was true. It was never that intense. Wonyoung lay on the floor and let me rub my dick over her boobs until every string of sperm had escaped. When I was done, I sat down hard beside her and gathered myself. Wonyoung sat up beside me. I reached above us and pulled down a kitchen towel and handed it to her. She took it wordlessly and wiped at her face and breasts.
“You’re awful,” she said quietly but let out a little smile and smirked. It was weird to see her smile. I sort of just nodded.
“Okay so do I get my money now or do I have to perform some other depraved sex act on you before you give it up?”
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Regardless, I was spent and knew in the back of my mind I had to get cleaned up — that Wonyoung had to get cleaned up — before her sister got back.
“I don’t know if that ‘titjob’ was worth the money,” I said. ‘But yeah, I’ll get the money to you.’ After she got up, I said, “And happy birthday.”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes. “Don’t even think about following me into the shower to try to exact more payment from me. I know you haven’t given me the money yet… But that would just be wrong.”
She walked across the carpet and disappeared into her room. The word "wrong" echoed in my head like thunder, and the image of her wet smile was as bright as the lightning behind it.
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Jinyoung and I were making love. It was Thursday night, and it had been about a month since I'd cum all over her sister's face and tits. It had worked in a faithless and uninterrupted way, and by the time Jinyoung returned from the grocery store, Wonyoung and I had both cleaned up and pretended that nothing had happened.
I had promised Wonyoung I’d return her ill-gotten money the next time she visited, and I’d meant it. Four weeks later Wonyoung was coming to visit us, ostensibly to see the family who hadn’t been able to make it for her birthday.
Where was I? Jinyoung and I were going at it. She planted an adoring kiss on my mouth and shifted in the bed. I turned her over gently and pulled out. She scooted forward and laid her head on the pillow, raising her slim bottom to me. I got up, planted my hands on her waist, not looking, and prodded forward enthusiastically. A sudden “Yow!” alerted me that I’d mistakenly jabbed a sensitive place.
“Wrong hole,” Jinyoung said, giggling.
“Sorry,” I replied, and grabbed my offending member. Jinyoung reached between her legs and helped guide me into her body. When my head rubbed against her slit, she gave an appreciative moan and we continued our previous motion.
Later, sitting in bed together, spent but not really sleepy, I willed myself to ignore the urge to smoke. Jinyoung thought I’d quit a year ago. She was curled around my arm and rubbing her fingers over my chest. She kissed my chest and murmured something.
“What?” I asked, looking down.
“You were going to deflower my butt,” she teased. Jinyoung grinned at me from my elbow. I smiled and stroked her hair.
“Never,” I said. She looked puzzled. “Would you ever want to?”
I thought about how best to answer this. She might not have remembered, but one night early in our relationship we’d actually become almost startingly drunk together and proceeded to try anal sex. It didn’t go very well and I’d managed to get my half limp dick about an inch into her bottom before she pulled away and made me swear never to ask her to try that again.
“I dunno,” I said casually.
Jinyoung grinned at me. “I bet you’ve thought about it.”
I laughed. Well, truth be told, I had, but I never thought of asking Jinyoung to submit to something so degrading. At least not when we’re sober.
“Why, do you want to?” I asked.
Jinyoung wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Yuck. Like I really want your dick, or any dick — up my ass.”
I teased. “You might like it though.”
Jinyoung pinched my sides. “No way.” She settled into me and laughed. “I have a few girlfriends who’ve done it. Most of them hated it.”
“Most of them?”
“Hey, don’t get any thoughts,” she said smilingly, “actually, there was one who said she might like it.”
“Who?” I asked. Jinyoung shook her head.
“Oh, come on.”
She got defensive. “Why are you so interested?”
“I’m just curious.”
“It was Wonyoung,” she said.
My dick gave a throb of longing. My skin prickled at the memory of Wonyoung’s lovely breasts rubbing my cock. “You think she like it?” I asked, trying not to sound weird.
Jinyoung grabbed a pillow and smacked me. “Hey, don’t tell her I told you!”
I laughed and pulled the pillow away. We fell into a groping, tickling match and that was the last time we discussed Wonyoung’s backdoor proclivities.
The next day Wonyoung showed up early. I was washing the dishes in the sink and Jinyoung was getting ready for work. I listened to Jinyoung go to the door of our apartment and squeal with delight. She and her sister immediately fell to talking over each other and laughing. The rush of the faucet blotted out most of the ensuing mania.
As I scrubbed the dishes clean, I listened to them clatter over our hardwood floor in their heels, commenting on new pieces of furniture or the mirror Jinyoung had just purchased. They quieted for a moment and I figured they were either whispering about one or another family members or boyfriends or preening themselves in the mirror. I tried not to think too hard about what Wonyoung might be wearing. Unconsciously, my crotch did the thinking for me.
A few hardy knocks on the wood and Jinyoung were at my cheek with a quick kiss and a smile. “I told Wonyoung she could stay here and gave her the spare key. You’re leaving at eleven?” — “Yep.” — “I told her not to touch your desk.”
I grabbed Jinyoung’s fingers with my soapy hand and kissed her soft knuckles. “Thanks, babe.” She smiled and strode out of the kitchen. She and her sister exited the apartment together, their voices echoing down the three flights of stairs to the street. Then there was silence broken only by the door to our apartment building swinging open and shut. The old staircase made new protest at the swift stomping back up to the top. I heard each creak over the gushing water. I heard the apartment door swing open and shut. Then silence.
Wonyoung’s heels went clack on the hardwood five or six times until the final step emptied out into the kitchen. I turned around. Wonyoung was standing with her arms crossed and her long legs planted in black, open-toed heels. She had on, a plain black skirt that cut off at about the mid-thigh and a white blouse that was fairly conservative except for a long loose decolletage that draped over her breasts and bared her cleavage. She had her lips pressed tightly together and her thin eyebrows furrowed on her forehead. To say she was squinting would be the wrong way to describe it. But her eyelids fought hard to keep it that way.
“Where’s the money?” she growled.
I pointed to the faucet and then at my ear. “I can’t hear you,” I yelled. “The water!” I pointed at the faucet again.
“Where’s the money?” Wonyoung repeated, lower, actually, than last time. I lifted a sudsy plate to reiterate my handicap. Her white eyes flared. “It’s not in your desk.”
I switched off the tap. “Jinyoung told you not to mess with the desk.”
“You fucked my tits.”
“Fair enough.” I wiped the plate dry, taking great care to scrub every inch before setting it carefully on the rack. “How’s your day?” I asked.
“Where. Is. The money?”
“It’s safe,” I said. “Misses you. Says it’s been feeling a bit lonely.”
Wonyoung brought her hand to her mouth and bit at her nails. She was annoyed. She was very annoyed. She spat a bit of chewed nail at the floor and leveled her gaze at me. “I will stab you,” she said.
“Interesting notion,” I replied. “It gives me an idea, actually.”
Wonyoung shook her head. “What do you want?”
I grinned. “Is it that obvious?”
“I can see your hard on!” she nearly screamed at me. I looked down quickly. I was indeed sporting something of an erection. But Wonyoung was beyond being offended. “I knew this was going to happen. I was going to spend all day hunting through your stupid apartment to get the money because I knew—” she jabbed an accusing finger at my dick, “I knew you wouldn’t give it to me! This is bullshit…” She shut her eyes tightly and groaned.
“The gods must be crazy,” I assented.
“Shut up!” she hissed. Her eyes snapped open. “Give me the money!”
“I don’t have it with me.”
“Then GET IT.” She looked at me with white fury. Wonyoung brought a hand to her left breast, almost unconsciously. “I gave you…” she started. Her frown became a dark mask. “You…”
“I know, call me whatever you want.”
She shook her head, purposely crossing her arms over the obvious gap in her shirt. “I’ll just wait till you have to go to work and find it when you’re gone.”
“That would be a very cunning plan. If the money were still here.”
“You’re lying.”
I shook my head. “When we got back, I put it in the bank. I figured I wouldn’t risk Jinyoung finding it.”
“Smart,” said Wonyoung. She lowered her arms until she was holding her forearms to her waist. “You think you’re so fucking smart.”
I didn’t say anything. I just smiled, triumphant.
“Whatever you want,” Wonyoung said, grasping her thin belt between her fingers and pulling it loose from her waist. ‘Whatever you make me give you,’ she went on, dropping the belt on the floor and reaching under her shirt. My breath caught in my throat as she pulled her blouse over her shoulders and stretched it over her arms.
Her jet-black hair slipped from the loosened neck. The black bra that clutched possessively to her chest was nearly the exact shade of her hair. She reached behind herself, her elbows sticking out and then springing back around as she effortlessly unhooked the snap and slipped the straps over her shoulders.
“I’ll tell Jinyoung,” she said, wrinkled her nose as she shrugged the bra off her breasts. It dropped carelessly to the kitchen floor. The bra lay at her feet. Her fists were balled at her hips. She squared her shoulders and leaned back, her pinkish areolas tilted up to the window and her beautiful abdomen bare from the waist up. “You want me to suck you?” she intoned, arching an eyebrow. “You want to fuck these tits again?”
I smiled.
She sneered. “Of course you do. I’ll tell Jinyoung everything. I’ll tell her everything. I don’t care if you do give me the money.”
“Oh you’ll get the money,” I said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take off the skirt?”
Wonyoung bent down and unzipped herself. She carefully stepped out of her skirt, still wearing her heels, drawing one knee and then the other up and over the fabric. She let it, like the bra before it, drop unceremoniously to the floor. She wasn’t wearing panties. Wonyoung’s small pubic hairs glistened in a trimmed tuft between her naked thighs. The light from the kitchen glanced across her flat stomach and made her skin glow. She stood proudly, arms akimbo, long legs lean and toned, open heels tapping at the floor.
“How badly do you want to fuck me?” she asked.
I swallowed. “Turn around.”
She did so. She pivoted in place slowly, giving me time to watch the way her muscles moved underneath her skin, the way her tight ass flexed and rippled between the small of her back and her taut calves.
“Take the heels off,” I said.
She bent over, affording me an unobstructed view of her naked ass. I heard her heels clatter over the floor and watched her stand up again, her legs suddenly less defined, her height reduced by a few inches. She was completely naked.
“Get in the shower,” I said. Her big eyes seemed to observe me from somewhere inside herself. Her mouth set in a firm line and she gently turned her head, her body following and padding rhythmically to the bathroom. I followed her as if I were invisible and she were traipsing alone through her own apartment. As we passed through the threshold together, she grasped the door and turned back.
“I’m going to tell her,” she said.
I was dumbstruck by her lips. They were always hard, always curving down, always dark, twisted away. Now they were lighter, without anything to harden them, suddenly soft and without guile. I traced the line of her soft neck down to her breasts. My eyes found their way back to her face.
“Get into the shower and soap yourself.”
“My tits, right?” — I nodded.
“You don’t care if I get my hair wet?” She rolled her eyes. ‘Right. How stupid of me.’ I watched her ass wiggle as she stepped over our fluffy bath mat and bent down to twist the knob. “Are you going to take your clothes off?” she asked without looking back.
I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it in the sink. I whipped off my belt and struggled with my zipper. By the time I’d pulled my socks off Wonyoung was standing in the shower running her fingers through her dark hair and frowning into the spray. She mushed her lips together and blew out the water that mixed with her mascara and dripped down her face. She wiped at her cheeks a few times until she’d cleaned her face and then reached for the soap. A generous blue glop of body wash squirted into her hands and she began to soap her tits, making sure she drew her fingers up her ribs and tightly scooped at her bosom the way boys like to see. She massaged her nipples until they were pointing majestically into the cascade. For a moment she held herself and glanced over at me, specifically my dick. She watched it hover over my aching balls as if hypnotized by her moistened hips.
“I guess I should thank you for not making me spit this time.” Said Wonyoung as I closed the door behind me and moved in. Wonyoung watched me apprehensively and drew back to the far side of the shower. I joined her, standing with my back to the spray.
“Can you get on your knees?” I asked. Wonyoung looked worriedly at my dick, her hands drawn up over her breasts and glanced down at the bath mat. “I don’t want you to hurt your knees,” I said.
“Gee, thanks.” She glared at me as she tilted her neck up. The bathroom was getting good and misty now and Wonyoung reached for the rim of the tub as she set herself down in front of me.
“Is it alright?”
“Just rub your dick between my tits…” she said. I did as I was told. Except I had to sit on the edge of the tub to make it work and not slip. I reached behind myself and braced against the toilet bowl. Wonyoung leaned forward and rubbed my shaft up through her breasts and heaven kissed my cock with buttered sunshine. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the overpowering patter of water and humping my hips forward as Wonyoung rubbed her breasts over my cock head and stroked me up and down against her soapy skin.
“Is it worth it?” I heard her say under the spray.
“Yes,” I said. I opened my eyes. Wonyoung had to shut her eyes against the downpour of the water. To keep water from slipping up her nose she had to open her mouth. Wonyoung was blindly rubbing my dick with her tits, mouth open, water streaming down her cheeks, lips and chin and splattering off her eyelashes and bouncing against my chest. I leaned forward and slipped my lips over her wet mouth. Wonyoung jerked back.
“No,” she said. I reached down and sifted through her slit. Instinctively I found her clit and watched an uncomfortable shudder wrack her body. “No,” she said again.
“How much no?” I asked.
“No, no,” she replied. My index finger glided over the entrance of her pussy and she leaned back further. She kept trying to open her eyes under the spray of water but was deluged every time.
“Stand up,” I said. We stood up together. I helped her out of the tub and made her kneel on the carpet. Wet and shining under the bathroom light, she put her hand on the bathroom counter and softly went to her knees. She took her tits in her hands and presented them to me with her lips curled to the side.
“Bend over,” I told her. Wonyoung was flushed, confused. Her black hair was plastered to her forehead and clung to her shoulders and back.
“What?”
“Jinyoung said you wouldn’t mind.” I said as I caressed her ass.
She stared at me for a solid second uncomprehending and then suddenly her eyes went wide. I put a finger to my lips. “Ah, I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” I smiled and drew a hand over her wet shoulder. “Will you bend over for me, Wony?”
“No,” she said, “there’s no way…”
“I’ll be very, very gentle.”
Wonyoung’s neck seemed to swing on a hinge. “No, you won’t.”
“I really want to fuck your ass.” I said matter-of-factly.
“I bet you do! You want to fuck my tits, you want to cum in my mouth, you want to fuck my ass! You just want it all, don’t you?”
I held her gaze. “No, please…” she plead.
I leaned forward and kissed her neck. She shoved her fists against me. ‘Never,’ she said. I kissed down her neck, sucking at the water that collected in her clavicle. I held her hands back, thrilled at the feeling of her nipples swiping against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and slid my hands down her ass, clutching at her cheeks. Wonyoung had to shove her arms under my armpits to get around me and beat on my back. I easily pulled my left arm back and felt down her abdomen to her hairs.
The shower roared and filled the bathroom with still more fog and Wonyoung and I silently struggled as I rolled beads of water across the soapy surface of her clitoris. “Ever…” she groaned, her body convulsing forward, instinctively attuned to the massage of her privates. “Do you want me to stop?” I asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. I sent an exploratory ring finger along the edge of her labia and dipped my middle finger inside of her. I rolled the tip of my finger along the inner front of her vagina, searching for her spot, wondering if it was possible to find it with so much hate firing back at me.
“Yes,” she grunted again, leaning against me and sinking her teeth into my neck. Suddenly she gasped as I swung my finger along the fleshy inside of her slit. “Do you know how…” she stammered.
“How what?”
“To… to put it in…?”
I continued rolling along the inside of her pussy, my thumb gently slipped against her clit. I felt her breasts relax against my chest. “I do.”
“Do you have the money?” — “I do.”
“This is the last,” she said. “You have to give me the money.”
“Bend over.” — “Promise me.”
I looked down at Wonyoung. Her nose and mouth were buried against my neck. She glanced up at me, squinting. “You know that promise is no good,” I said.
“Jerk,” Wonyoung groaned. She pushed forward, pushing me out of the way. All of her black hair tumbled forward from her shoulders and neck and I leaned back on the balls of my feet. I traced my hand over the curve of her spine, drew it over her plump ass. Then I reached back, grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squirted it into my hand. I stepped beside her and kneeled down. When my gooey palm slipped into her ass crack she tensed forward on her knees.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “it’s water based.”
“Asshole,” she muttered.
“Exactly.”
Fanning my fingers together, I drew my palm over her crease, rubbing the thick solution over her posterior and vulva. Wonyoung shuddered again and presented her ass to me. I dipped a finger into the shampoo and gently tickled her clenched asshole.
“You have to relax,” I told her.
“Enh,” she huffed. “Then don’t put it in my ass.”
With my other hand I softly stroked her clit, swept back over her pussy. She gave an involuntary release. I took advantage. I wormed my finger into her behind. Wonyoung gave a sudden “Oh!” Then her canal clutched at me like an anemone. Generously lubricated, I had no trouble slipping my finger in to the first knuckle, then the second, and after a minute all the way down.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this…” Wonyoung groaned. Her shoulders were like the hackles of a cat. “You’re going to fuck my ass…”
Hearing her say it, I couldn’t wait anymore. I drew out my finger. Then I grabbed her hip, grabbed myself, and gently encircled her anus with the head of my cock.
“She doesn’t let you, does she?” Wonyoung said from the fluffy carpet.
“No,” I said. Her body was shaking. “You want to fuck my ass?” She asked as I pressed the head of my dick against her asshole.
“You want to fuck my ass?” she repeated.
“Yes,” I said. Suddenly, or magically, her sphincter gave way and accepted the head of my cock. Her asshole slurped at me greedily.
“Fuck my ass,” she huffed. “Slowly…” Wonyoung threw her head back. A wave of flexing muscle swelled against my dick. “God I hope I rip it off.” She groaned. Just for that I pushed another inch inside. The slimy shampoo gave me easy access between Wonyoung’s crack. “Ah,” she stammered.
I drew my hands lovingly over her hips. There was no need to hold onto myself anymore: already a third of the way inside the girl, the walls of her rectum cautiously squeezed my cock.
Wonyoung hung her head. “Your dick’s too big...” Smoothly, but probably not gently enough, I pushed myself another half inch inside. “Ahh…” Wonyoung moaned. Her little fingers disappeared inside the carpet.” How far?’ she panted. “How far is it?”
“Almost half way,” I told her. “Unnh fuck…” Wonyoung groaned as I pushed inside her. “How much money?” she asked.
“All of it.”
“I’m your slut for ‘all of it.’”
“Say it again.” — “No.”
“Say it again, Wony.” — “M-make me…”
I pushed myself another inch inside and her asshole squelched around me. This time I groaned. I felt myself resonate along Wonyoung’s wet hips.
“Harder…” she coaxed. I pushed deeper inside her. I looked down. The shaft of my cock was almost buried between my girlfriend’s sister’s ass cheeks. “Make me say it,” she gasped. I slap her ass. Wonyoung moaned. “You’re my slut for ‘all of it.’”
“I’m your slut,” she breathed. “I’m…ah fuck…” She bowed her head and flexed her thighs. She actually pushed herself back. She slowly, achingly, thickly impaled herself on me. “Your… slut…” she grunted.
I squeezed inside of Wonyoung until I was balls deep. I dragged my nails against her shoulder blades and watched her muscles shiver up and down her ribs. “How does it feel?”
“Full,” she said, swallowed even. “It feels so full.” I gently pulled out. “Ah,” she sighed. And then, mercifully, I pushed back in. “Awnh,” Wonyoung shuddered. “Not… too… hard,” she pleaded.
“Promise,” I said.
“Oh no,” she moaned, as I pulled out slowly and sunk myself back inside her. Wonyoung laid herself on her forearms and put her head to the floor. The warm mist of the shower settled over us and I squeezed myself inside Wonyoung’s tight ass and imagined her sister, fucking Jinyoung softly, and watched myself fuck Wonyoung’s beautiful ass. She made tiny sounds of relief and anticipation as I pulled myself from deep inside her, and plunging back again with more vigor.
“You got it,” she moaned. “You got what you wanted…”
“You like it up the ass?”
“Punish me…” she groaned to the floor. “Don’t…” But I was never sure just what ‘don’t’ meant. I pulled out and thrust back in. Her asshole gripped me tightly but it was getting easier to slide in and out of her.
“Fuck…” Wonyoung cried into the carpet. She twisted and squeezed the shag between her thin fingers, her knees drawn together, her feet curled under her thighs and her elbows pressed to her ribs as if trying to keep my dick from poking her insides. I kept one hand on her bottom and reached between her legs to fiddle with her clit.
“Oh fuck,” she spat as she shoved herself against my dick. It was almost too good; I almost wasn’t there at all. I was suddenly back, cock buried inside Wonyoung’s rectum. And she was crying out. “Fuck me!”
I slammed into her. Wonyoung pressed her forehead into her fists and swung her pelvis back to meet me. Over the gush and senseless waste of water the sounds of our skin slapped angrily against each other — my thighs against her glistening, naked ass — bounced from tile to linoleum tile. I shoved as many fingers as I thought Wonyoung could take up her pussy and raked her ass with my other hand. “Fuck you!” she screamed. “Fuck you for being inside me!”
I’m not sure if she came. I’m not sure if the wild spasm that wracked her tits and made her belly twitch as if a million lustful worms had suddenly ejaculated inside her, made her glutinous bottom clench and the hair on her neck stand on end, was a release or some kind of guilty vibration, but Wonyoung suddenly shut up and growled low, long and deeply.
“I’m going to cum,”
“Don’t cum inside me,” she panted. I pounded her ass again, the soap, sweat and slick mucous of her insides dripping from where we connected. “I’m going to cum, Wony” I repeated.
“Don’t…” Wonyoung grunted, utterly incapable of turning or removing herself, her upper body spent. “Do you cum in my sister?”
“What do you think?”
“Don’t…” she repeated.
“I cum inside her all the time.”
“Don’t fill me with Jinyoung’s cum,” she moaned. “I can’t take her boyfriend’s cum.”
“Take it, Wony.”
“Don’t!” she groaned. “Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!”
The cum shot out of my cock like a cannonade. Wonyoung’s rectum instinctively tried to pinch me off but I was buried so far inside her it felt like I’d ejaculated into her stomach. “Annnh!” Wonyoung growled again. I pumped harder, and harder. I shot my load deep inside of her. I fucked and emptied my seed into her ass. I came, unapologetically.
Wonyoung remained on her knees and let me squeeze handfuls of her ass. I pushed in as far as I could go. My balls beat against her exposed pussy and her asshole shuddered all around me. I pulled myself up to kneel — with my knee up I was able to shove myself another quarter inch inside, then a half. Wonyoung just stuck her head back like I’d straightened her posture. When my balls finally stopped quaking, Wonyoung murmured, “Are you done?” I slid my hands over her body, my fingers pressing the supple flesh of her back. She remained on her knees; gaze locked on the bathroom door.
“I have to…” she started. She jerked her head over her shoulder, most of her face buried in her tangled black hair. Her eyes regarded me sardonically. “I have to use the bathroom,” she said. “Number one or number two?” I asked.
“Asshole.”
“Exactly.”
I pulled slowly. Wonyoung’s hips shook again. She didn’t try to hide the relief and slight pleasure of my shrinking penis exiting her body. A trail of cum followed me out, oozing from her twitching muscles. She didn’t look at me again. She just reached for the sink and pulled herself up. I sat up, too, turned off the tap, and took the door, grabbing a washcloth on my way out and rubbing myself down.
“Wonyoung,” I wanted to say something but for the life of me I didn’t know what. She was pulling her wet hair behind her ears, glaring at the two of us in the mirror.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
After Wonyoung had finished in the bathroom. It was my turn, she glared at me as I stepped past her. I soaped down to the alternating sounds of Wonyoung maybe breaking things and asking when we would go to the bank. By the time I was done Wonyoung was already dressed and holding her cell phone.
“Was that the promised call to tell Jinyoung how much fun we had?” I asked but Wonyoung wasn’t looking at me. “I have to go,” she said blankly.
“What?”
“Jinyoung called. She’s leaving work. Our grandmother died.”
“I- I’m sorry.”
“I…” she started. She seemed to think better of whatever she started and clattered past me to the front door. “I won’t be able to sit for a week, asshole.” She said, “I’ll be back for the money.” Then her world class legs were stomping down our creaky old stairs and taking her out the door and across the street.
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For the funeral, her family had invited everybody, and somehow everyone got their own rooms, Jinyoung and I included. It was a surprise to me, but then again Jinyoung and I were both adults, with jobs and responsibilities. Speaking of jobs… I was sitting up in the bed. My underwear was hanging over the side of the mattress, and I glanced at it when Jinyoung’s brown hair dutifully lowered over my tight member. She was beautiful to me in that moment: in her bra, her plain pajamas on, her hair in a loose ponytail. It was the casualness of the act. She had been getting ready for bed, had taken her shirt off, and begun to comb her hair in the mirror, when she turned to me. Quietly, she’d approached me when I’d just gotten my shoes off, and helped me remove the rest of my clothes. Then she pulled the sheets back and had me sit down. I did, naked. She crawled up on the bed beside me and kissed me, then kissed my chest, then kissed my cock until it grew hard. And then she started sucking.
She did it quietly, for the most part. The house was full, though mostly quiet now that everyone had gone to bed, and we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. I had to wonder why she was going down on me now, today of all day, but I wouldn’t question it, not in the middle of the act.
It gets messy. I didn’t tell Jinyoung I was going to cum and she had me pretty deep. She spluttered, coughing suddenly. When she pulled her mouth back my dick was still ejaculating. Strings of cum leapt from the tip of my shaft while driblets of it stained the corners of Jinyoung’s flushed lips. She wiped her mouth and glared at me. “What the fuck?” she said. She was angry, angry enough to curse. “Ugh,” she groaned. She coughed again.
“Babe, I’m sorry,” I tried.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said. She sat up on the bed, in her bra, her tight stomach tensed. “It felt so good,” I said. “It’s… kind of a compliment?”
She shook her head, eyes narrow “That’s so gross.”
“Well,” I said, trying to sound dignified while my cock twitched and my sperm dried on my stomach, “if you swallowed it, maybe it wouldn’t get everywhere.” Yeah, that was not the right thing to say.
“Jesus,” said Jingoung as if that explained everything. “Sorry, I thought I was making you happy.”
“Hey, don’t do that,” I said. “I’m sorry. What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I have to take a shower.”
“I’ll join you.”
“I don’t want you to.” She got up off the bed and made for the bathroom that adjoined the guest room. She came out just as quickly with a thick towel and folded it neatly on the edge of the bed. “You can use the one in the hall.”
“Okay,” I said. “Are you mad at me?” Jinyoung coughed in reply. I sighed and let her disappear back behind the bathroom door. In a moment the light was on, she coughed again, and then the shower started.
I understood her anger, at least. We had a system, and I’d blown it. My obsequious attempts at placation were always disheartening to me, because all the ‘honeys’ and ‘babies’ in the world couldn’t make me feel like I’d reclaimed my balls. It was a very real threshold Jinyoung and I were on. Not that had anything to do with cumming in her throat, though. That was my bad.
It had everything to do with where my mind wandered, and maybe why I was never relaxed with her anymore. I wiped myself off with the towel and reluctantly stepped off the bed. I’d been at war with myself for a long time, and it had only been a week since I’d cheated on her with her own sister. Yes, I was the bad guy, there was no denying that. All Jinyoung wanted was commitment and trust. I wrapped the towel around my waist. ‘You know your problem,’ I said quietly to myself, turning the bedroom knob, ‘you just can’t be trusted.’
I smiled in the dark hallway. It was true. I was a creature of instinct, but cunning instinct, and I probably didn’t deserve Jinyoung, or I didn’t deserve her. The truth was, I did love her, but it was a comfortable, uneasy love. It was affectionate, and safe. Who could ask for more? but then…
A knife at your throat.
A knife at your throat brings a lot of focus. A knife at your throat can torch your self-loathing into a sudden brick of ash, leaving you with nothing but a bath towel and dried cum on your balls. In the dark hallway, right at the edge of the bathroom, a long, sharp knife emerged from the shadows and met my neck; lightly pressed against it. It was, to put it mildly, not what I was expecting.
“Get inside,” a voice whispered.
“The… uh, bathroom?”
“Yes, idiot.”
That would be Wonyoung. I sidestepped slowly into the bathroom, the knife held firmly against my neck the whole time, Wonyoung following me into the room. She shut the door behind us, locked it, and flipped the light on. Reflexively, I had my hands up. The towel was wrapped loosely around my waist, but other than that I was naked to the world — at least the house. Wonyoung, under the light of the old-fashioned bathroom, was still in her funeral attire, minus the sport coat. The tight black blouse strained to contain the girl’s ripe breasts. The thigh-length skirt still molded to her body and, surprisingly, she was still strapped into her black high heels. Most of her makeup had been washed off, except for the thin mascara that seemed to eternally circle her eyes. And her dark, dyed black hair seemed thicker, longer now that it had ever been, like a wild mane. The full lips, the upturned nose, the familiar sneer; all of it combined with her haughty, tight body to communicate something arrestingly unattainable. It occurred to me suddenly that I was fucked, because a straight razor was in her hand, and the hand was at my skin.
The blade rose and lowered on my neck. I swallowed, “W- what happened?”
“What do you think?”
I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to answer that, but I tried anyway, “This might be because we… had sex?”
“You fucked my ass in my sister’s apartment.”
“You’re upset about that… now?”
The knife pressed against my neck and I tried to raise my hands in as unthreatening a manner as possible. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Where’s the money?”
“It’s not here.”
She pressed the knife harder. Enough to actually draw blood. “Whoa! calm down… why would I bring it here?”
“I gave you what you wanted. It’s your fucking turn.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted it now.”
She surprised me by taking a swift stride forward and taking my shoulder in her other hand. The grip was tight. She was half a head shorter than me but her eyes burned up to mine with an unmistakable malice, and her hands did not waver. She was so close to my face I could have slipped my lips into the soft tresses of her bangs. The smell that came off of her was some thick but unsweetened perfume. I recognized, too, the vague smell of sweat, her sweat; in the tiny room evidence that she was human, and not entirely cold. Her breasts, unavoidably, brushed the bare skin of my chest. The two tight pinpricks I felt through the fabric alerted me to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. In blind defiance of my fear, my cock began to harden.
She practically spit her next words: “When did you think I wanted it?”
“It’s in the bank — I told you.”
“You…” Her eyes searched mine for an interminable moment. Then she seemed to decide something. “You’re never going to give it to me, are you?” The knife between us was like a third person interrupting the conversation. Everything I could think to say was stopped by its contact with my skin.
“Of course I’m going to give it to you. The knife is very convincing.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, without humor. “Get on the floor.”
“What? Why?”
“Get. On. The floor.”
My palms towards her, my eyes widened slightly, trying to grasp what was happening. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to get on the floor. Lie on your back.”
I took a deep breath. There wasn’t much for me to do otherwise, so I slowly bent at the knees, and went down on one, then the other. In the process, the towel caught under my right knee and fell off, piling on the floor behind me. “Uh—” I started but Wonyoung said, “Leave it. Get back.”
So, naked now, hands still raised, I slowly lowered them to sit on the big, thick bathroom rug that lay between the sink and the bathtub. Wonyoung came with me, the knife ever at my neck, her other hand digging into my shoulder. We lowered together to the bathroom floor until I was on my back, the towel splayed out beneath me on the bathroom rug, and Wonyoung slipped her legs over my hips, just below my cock, and sat on me.
“You’re already hard.”
“Sorry, can’t help it.”
“I know,” she said as she reached down with her right hand and tugged at her skirt. The fabric clung to her so tightly she had to pull at one side first, then the other, then back again, to get it up her legs. When she’d tugged and pulled enough, I could see her bare thighs under the bunched skirt. A sheer pair of black panties hugged her bald pussy. It was completely shaved, and just visible through the nearly translucent fabric. She was practically sitting on my balls, and that sight made my dick grow harder.
“Hope you’re enjoying yourself,” she said.
“I have a lot of mixed emotions right now.”
“Shut up.” She brought her right hand up and planted it beside my head. She leaned forward. Suddenly I felt the silk material of her panties shift over the base of my cock. The fabric tingled where it slid over me, and I could feel the unmistakable cleft where the panties had ridden up into her pussy. Wonyoung dragged the panties over my cock, slowly, until she reached the head, and sat on it. Buried under her pussy, my cock was swamped by the heat that emanated from inside her.
“Does that make you hard?” She asked. I didn’t answer. But my cock twitched with a reflexive throb.
“That’s what I thought,” said Wonyoung. “Rip my panties.”
It was hard to know where to look. With the straight razor against my throat, it was dangerous to look anywhere but up into her cold eyes. Her tits pushed her shirt down, until they hung over me, ripe and within reach. But I didn’t dare move my hands. You know, in case Wonyoung was crazy. I replied with a clueless, “Huh?”
“Rip. My. Panties.” The words hissed through her gritted teeth. “Asshole.”
“Wony, I don’t understand.” She dragged the razor lightly over my skin. “Shut up and do it.”
I reached up. My hands couldn’t find her by sight, so I lifted my fingers into her flat stomach. She made a face but seemed to understand it, so she allowed me to drag my fingers down her waist, and the bunched-up skirt, until I reached the gossamer material between her legs. The straps that bound her hips were barely there at all. I reached deeper, until I brushed her mound, and pulled the fabric between my fingers.
I tore them. They ripped so easily I wondered what woman in her right mind would buy such fragile things, but the pulsations deep in my cock cleared that mystery up right away. In Wonyoung’s eyes was the registered shock of feeling our bare genitals suddenly in contact, but she didn’t do more than issue a tight gasp from her mouth. I ripped, and continued to rip until the panties were in tatters. They still hung around her hips; I hadn’t touched the band; but her pussy now lay atop my cock, its lips snugly parted over my shaft.
She shifted to roll me between them. “Was it worth it? Being a prick?”
With my cock inside Wonyoung. it was difficult to answer. She leaned down until our noses almost touched. “Are you going to give me the money?”
“Yes,”
“I don’t believe you. And I fucking hate you.”
“Is that right?” — She pressed the knife against me to shut me up.
“Here’s what I’m going to do.” She reared back until she was sitting on me again. My cock was still hard, flattened against my stomach and underneath her pussy. She laid her right hand over my mouth. “Lick it,” she said.
…..
“More,” she said. I licked her palm. I licked the creases in it and the spaces between her fingers. Then she reached down, underneath her, and lifted herself up on her knees. The breach of contact between us alerted me to the coolness of the bathroom air. Above me, Wonyoung rubbed her palm into her labia. The fingers slipped in. She returned her palm to my mouth, laying her pussy over my cock again as she leaned down. ‘Lick it,’ she said. I did. This time I tasted her pussy on her hand, and my mouth lingered over the taste of her fingers. She pulled back after I planted a kiss in her palm. Wonyoung rubbed the hand into her cunt again, coating herself with my saliva. She pushed her hand into my mouth. “Lick it,” she said, more hoarsely than before. This time her thighs trembled a bit when she rubbed herself. “Again,” she said. My lips and tongue danced over her fingers. This time when she reached down, she took hold of my dick. Her moist fingers clenched, rubbing my head until the precum oozed from the slit and mixed with the saliva.
“You want to fuck me?” she asked, finally pulled my dick upright. It bulged against her belly. “You were staring at me all day.” She said. It’s true, can’t deny it.
“You fucked my mouth… You fucked my ass…” With every word her thighs contracted and released. I felt her heartbeat through her stomach, and every contraction was simultaneous with a tight stroke of my cock, like a rough caress. “You had everything. And you still fuck my sister…”
“Yes,” I said, though it was more of a groan. She leaned forward slightly, not so easy to do with my cock pressed stiffly into her. She was relentless, squeezing it in her hand. If Jinyoung hadn’t blown me minutes ago, I would be ready to cum, but the earlier ejaculation had relaxed my body. It did nothing, however, for my burning urge to reach up and pull that blouse down her beautiful chest. But she kept the knife to me at all times.
“You just want more… and more, don’t you?” She looked down.
I could see her looking at my cock but I couldn’t remove my eyes from her face, even in this state, she was gorgeous. I felt the first drips from her pussy land in my pubic thatch. “Were you going to make me fuck you?” she said. “You want my pussy? Do you want my pussy?” She rubbed my shaft against her pussy. I had to lean my head back against the tile.
Then, her knees hugging the carpet and my hips, I heard the toes of her heels clatter on the tile, she rose up; she positioned my cock straight up, and wiggled it between the lips of her pussy lips, she gasped; it made her stomach jiggle, her breasts, too, and sank down.
We both groaned as my shaft plunged in, in to her naked flesh. “Ah,” she said, as if in pain. She was wet, but not dripping. She stopped about halfway and pushed her right hand down into the carpet.
“You like that?” she hissed as she sank her hips down, forward. My cock slid along her uterine wall. Then, to my pleasure and utter shock, she bucked her hips forward, dragging my cock in and out of her, gyrating on top of me.
“I hate you…” she said. “Your fucking cock… inside me… forcing me.” Her eyes burned down into mine.
“I didn’t force you,” I said. Her pussy was so tight. For some reason I’d imagined that her being such a bitch it would only make room for a big, loose pussy. But Jinyoung’s younger sister had a tight, wet snatch. It was like a trap, and I could feel it squeeze more precum out of me, to mix with the saliva she’d forced me to lubricate her with, to mix with the juice of her own body.
“You think I wanted you?” she hissed. She clearly had an agenda, and she took to it with forceful fervor, but it was impossible for my dick to elicit no effect that deep inside of her. I realized she was trying to work me in and out of her methodically, almost mechanically.
“If you cum before I do,” she started, “I’ll cut you.” Again, still with the knife at my throat. “And tell my father you raped me. And then Jinyoung will know what a piece of shit you are...”
Wonyoung wasn’t going to cum, that’s what she was saying… “If you cum before I do?” I said, “you won’t cut me?” She sneered. I suddenly thrust my hips up, and she had to grab at the floor. I pushed my feet into the ground and thrust again. The knife could cut me while I tried but I realized now that might be inevitable.
“If you cum before I do, you won’t cut me?” I repeated.
“You can’t make me cum,” said Wonyoung.
I raised my hands up and placed them on her hips. I forced her to go down, deep down, until her tight pussy was opened over the thick base of my cock, her ass practically riding my balls. “Anh,” she gasped.
“Do you want me to make you cum?”
“Fuck you,” she said. “Tell me how badly you wanted this pussy?”
“Badly,” I said. My fingers bit into her hips. I ran the fabric of her blouse up against her ribs until I was grasping her tight skin. I made her hips swivel against me. I pushed inside her.
“What about the money?”
She leaned back. She had to keep the knife on my throat but she leaned back, very business-like, her back almost straight, while I made love to her vagina like she wasn’t even a part of it.
“You wanna give it to me now?” she said. “If you give it to me right now, then pull out. Pull out of this pussy.” She flexed her ass on top of me.
“But then you wouldn’t get a good fucking,” I said.
“If I wanted a good fucking, I wouldn’t be fucking you.”
“You just want to make me cum?”
She sneered again, the coldness in her eyes dire contrast to the heat below her waist, and the movements, almost gymnastic and snake-like, of her writhing, curvaceous body. It was her body that was built for sex; every undulation, every inch of her soft, pale skin, was meant to attract attention, meant to draw the eye, meant to force lewd fantasies.
Did Wonyoung know the men in her wake were left with no recourse but to stroke themselves to ejaculation at the thought of her wide hips under their palms, her tight ass clutching their cocks, her fearsome eyes hating them as they squeezed their manhood between her tight, moist crevices? Of course she knew.
“You’re going to cum,” she said. “You’re going to cum inside me. I’m going to squeeze your f-fucking cock until you can’t take it anymore… and, then, you’ll do it. You want to do it.”
“Yes,” I said, my hands forced her hips deeper down.
“Better slow down,” she gasped.
“I’m just getting started.”
“Oh yeah?” She reached up to her blouse. No, I thought, it’s too cruel. Her fingers slid over the slopes of her upper breasts. Her finger dipped into her cleavage. “You want these tits?” she whispered breathlessly. I didn’t say anything, but I did slow my strokes.
“That’s what I thought… You can’t handle me.”
That would not stand. I grabbed her ass and plunged my cock deep, thrusting my hips hard towards her pelvis. She bumped forward; her hand fell beside my head. Her breasts swung over my face.
“Does that make you mad?” she hissed. She leaned down until her nipple, under the black fabric, grazed the skin of my lip. I couldn’t stand it. I stretched my mouth forward, trying to catch it through the shirt. Wonyoung leaned up, laughing. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You can’t handle it.”
I didn’t like being told what I couldn’t handle. I dropped her hips suddenly, and reached for her chest. She let out a stunned “What-?” before I grabbed the blouse between my fingers and tore, like I’d torn the panties.
Her breasts freed from the rent fabric. At first, they just rolled forward, freed from the pressure but too full, too squished to leave the shirt. Still stunned, Wonyoung was pinned by my dick plunging into her behind and her hand bound to stay at my throat, so she couldn’t stop me from grabbing the torn shirt and ripping it the rest of the way. Her gorgeous breasts were freed from her clothing, plump and swollen, the bottoms still tightly trapped but the nipples, the soft skin at their sides, exposed, even held so that each bounce of her ass on my thighs, at every increasingly wet thrust and gyration, they make little jiggled forward.
“Prick,” she said.
“Did it hurt?”
“Yes,” she gasped. My thrusts were merciless now. She tried to right herself, to get more rigidly on top, but I angled my hips so that she was forced to lean forward, forced to keep her one hand planted in the tile, I hoped her knife hand was getting tired. Her breasts were beautiful, and I adored them. She shut her eyes tight.
“Do you want me to touch them?”
“N-no…” she groaned.
I thrust harder, faster. “You bastard…” she rasped. “Don’t…”
It was beautiful. The way breasts swung over me, forced to bounce with every push of my cock. It hurt her, but there was an open, hungry pout to her mouth that proved that some tangle of nerves caught in the strain forced her to like it. I couldn’t bear to see her like that any longer.
I reached up and held her breasts. Their thickness filled my hands. The hard nipples practically carved her initials into my palms. I squeezed them, and she let out a deep moan. I reached down and tore the rest of the shirt. Her breasts flopped out all the way and I scooped them hungrily between my fingers. Sweat had built up between our waists; I could feel it trickling down from where her skirt bunched up against her hips. One hand slid behind her back, the other pulled her in to me. I took one pale, puffy nipple between my lips and sucked on it.
“Suck it…” she whispered. “Is that what you want? You want to suck my tits?”
I just groaned assent to her dirty mouth. I slowed my strokes to savor the taste of her breasts. My tongue dragged over the slopes of one, licking deep between them to the space in the middle of her chest. I felt her right hand on my shoulder, maybe pushing me, maybe trying to stay steady, as I scooped the left breast towards my mouth and suckled on it, bit it lightly, tried to get as much of it in my mouth as I could fit.
I sucked harder on it, loving the taste of her, the hot, angry taste of her, and the wondrous texture of her bumpy areolas. It occurred to me, only then, at the height of my arousal and hunger for her, that I had stopped thrusting, that her pussy was slipping and gliding over me, that her left hand had gone limp — had not dropped the knife — that her stomach was quaking over mine.
“That what you needed?” she said huskily. “Needed these tits in your mouth? I know you did.” I let her nipple slip from my mouth and reached up. I took her face in both hands and pulled her mouth to me.
“Fuck you,” she spat into my mouth. She actually spat.
I wet my lips and cupped them over her own. Her tongue slithered out and tippled over mine. I thrust. She pushed. Her breasts squashed against my chest. I reached down and gripped her ass fiercely, forcing it up and down on my cock. Our spit mingled while she acted like her tongue in my mouth was there by protest. I, for my part, sucked on it, kissed her mouth, and reached for her hair. “Cum,” she whispered when our lips peeled away from each other.
“You wanna make me cum?”
“I make you cum,” she said, her face still inches from mine. She rested her breasts on top of me. “You came inside my ass.…I had to… push it out…”
“You didn’t like that?” I groaned. “You didn’t like shitting out my cum?”
“You are sick,” she gasped. “Ahn. You’re vile. You fucked me. Your big dick. In my ass.”
“Are you going to cum?”
“You can’t make me cum!” she whispered violently.
“You’re wet.”
“I’ll cut your throat.”
I got a good grip on her ass cheek. My right arm braced against her side. “You want to cum, Wony? You want it good? You want it rough?”
“Don’t—” she said. She could feel my arms’ tensed strength. “I’ll… cut…”
“Do it,” I said.
“Cum,” she said. “Ah!” She said it as I shifted my weight. She said it as I pulled at her tight ass and pushed up into her pussy with my hips. She said it as I grabbed her back and torqued her to the ground. The knife at my neck was there, but suddenly wasn’t. It clattered to the floor as we tumbled. We seemed to be a ball of wet limbs and tangled clothing for a breathless, sightless time, then suddenly she was on the ground, on her back, her fingers scratching at my neck, and I was on top, plugged inside her, and I reached down and pulled one long leg up against my body to open her pussy wider.
“Take it, Wony…”
“Ahn fuck…” she hissed. Her eyes went wide and to the toilet bowl just above her head. I pulled her hands off my neck and pinned them to the tile. She fought against me the whole time but my muscles bulged, hot with lust, and my grip on her wrists unyielding. Her open palms grabbed at nothing, her outstretched arms forced her exposed breasts up, so that their full, rippling bounty was flattened over her torn shirt. I heard her high heel knock the bathroom floor. And of course, between her legs, between her open, limber legs, where her bare pussy shed its juices under her torn, mangled panties, was me, slipping it to her, guiding my tight, insistent cock between the hungry lips of her devious sex.
“You like it better this way?” I whispered into her ear. “You don’t have to do the work. You can just let me fuck you until you cum.”
“Can’t… make me… cum…” Wonyoung panted.
I laid a wet, passionate kiss on her mouth. It was devoid of love and full, bursting with all the ravenous urges I’d built up since I’d seen her this morning. I was glad the knife was now somewhere behind the toilet, but I was plunging harder and harder into her body and I wanted to cum. Yet I refused to unless I could make her do it, and believe it. The squelches of our sex only made the hot air stink more fragrantly of two angry people fucking. I grabbed her hair and tilted her head back.
“You like it dirty?”
Hands freed, she reached down between our bucking hips. I felt her fingers work at the skirt, try to free it from my pounding hips.
“You got cum all over my skirt,” she gasped.
I reached down and pulled at it. She worked it from her side. I felt something give in the material. Something snapped. Her other hand reached down to take the clasp and open it. Then it was off, ruffled and pinned under us, like the towel and the rug and the shreds of her shirt and panties. I slowed my strokes enough to savor the curved entrance to her soft pussy.
I bent my neck to pop one of her breasts into my mouth. It was dotted with quivering perspiration. Her breath was ragged. Suddenly she reached up and clutched my shoulders. I licked up her chest to her neck and chin. And her eyes burned into me.
“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
“You gave me everything,” I gloated to her, on top of her, my fingers biting her ass cheek and hiking her leg even higher.
“You took everything,” she rasped.
“I’m going to make you cum, Wony.”
“Can’t force me…”
“I’ll force you.”
“Force me,” she said. Her mouth now refused to close. Her upper lip was spotted with sweat; her pink tongue was writhing in her mouth. She had to breathe through that mouth, had to kiss me with it when I made her, but she couldn’t close it; the sound that issued out of it, a high but deep groan that pressed up against her flat stomach, wouldn’t allow it. Her teeth grit together for a rough instant.
“Force… me…”
“You’ll love it,”
“I hate it.”
Her leg had ridden as high as I could get it with my hand in that position. I reached under so that I was now holding it up from underneath, the back of her knee between my thumb and forefinger. The sweat running down from her calves, from the tight straps of her high heels, flowed over my knuckles and to my wrist. Our hips slapped together. Her other leg went up, the knee pointed to the ceiling. The heel scraped over the floor.
“Your dick,” she ranted. “Your fucking dick…”
“Inside you.”
“Inside me…”
“Cum on my cock, Wony. Cum for me.”
“Forced me…” she gasped.
“You forced me.”
“I didn’t force your dick between my tits.”
“Give it to me, Wony.”
“Didn’t… ah… nah… force your… cock…”
“Into your ass.”
“My ass.” She shuddered. ‘Now,’ she said. “Don’t stop…”
“Let me hear it.”
“Oh… Fuckngh…”
My dick slid back and forth, never stopping, her ass slapped the bathroom floor. She lunged for my neck. I felt her teeth bite into my shoulder. I reached up, pushed her moist back up, curved my pelvis up to meet her bucking pussy. She came silently, biting into my shoulder, her whole body a wicked vibration.
An instant later I came as well. My cock stuck bolt upright and ejaculated, pumping Wonyoung full of my cum. The thick deluge that I’d been holding back, it all came, shooting, unending. Wonyoung let out a little shriek when it happened — nothing loud enough for the house to hear — nothing that sounded pained, but a tail added to her own unleashed orgasm, something that ended her quivering and transformed it into full body squeezes. She clamped over me, with her legs, her arms, her mouth, and released all of them. If my hand hadn’t been behind her head, she would have knocked back against the toilet bowl.
The two of us shivered together without speaking, her arms draped loosely over my shoulders.
Somehow, and sometime later, we got to our feet. We gathered the pieces of clothing and the towel, into the middle of the room. She bent down and undid the straps on her heels. Then I started the shower.
-
It was the practical thing to shower together. We did it without speaking. I let her use the water first, then I came forward and soaped myself. Finally, however, it was just too much to see her splashed in water, the white suds dripping all down that buxom body. I pushed her against the shower wall, my hands cupping her breasts, then her ass, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She kissed me weakly, a hand skating down my back but not knowing, truly, where to go. I thought I might even feel another tingle in my crotch. But it was Wonyoung pushing me away.
“No,” she said quietly. “I really mean it.”
We parted. She finished shampooing her hair, then she stepped out and grabbed a towel from the sink cupboard. When I shut off the water, she handed me another one. She had already bound the ripped articles of clothing in another towel. I didn’t ask what she planned to do with it. The straight razor had been returned to its place.
She sort of nodded, not looking at me, and reached for the door. But I stopped her with a hand on her wrist. She didn’t say stop, she didn’t say no, she just looked at my hand, and then at me. It wasn’t really an angry look; it was tired, and more than a little ambiguous.
I started to say, “I want…”
But she cut me off with, “Yeah.” Her eyes burned into mine, without hate, but without anything I recognized. She opened the door and was gone, her hips under the white towel shifting, sashaying, into the shadows.
I shook my head. Well, who’s to say what I wanted, or what Wonyoung wanted beyond the money? I didn’t know, and other than the fact that I’m a bad boyfriend, I wasn’t going to know anything more. At least not tonight.
I went through the door to the guest bedroom, to the little yellow light by the side of the bed. Jinyoung was sitting up with her glasses on, reading a book from one of the ancient shelves.
“You were in there for a long time,” she said, looking up.
“Yeah,” I said, suddenly exhausted. I threw my towel over a chair and wandered heavily to the other side of the bed. I slid in next to her and turned over.
“Hey,” she said.
“What?”
Her voice rose. “Where’d you get that bite mark on your neck?”
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Two months. Two fricking month later and all I needed is a date.
My company was hosting a large end-of-year celebration at a downtown hotel, and they were providing the rooms, food, and everything else. We only needed to show up and have a good time. There was business to be done, as well as some late afternoon seminars to attend, but the most important thing was that I needed a date. Because after the dancing and drinking, I'd have a whole hotel room to myself.
Nice guy that I am, I thought of calling Jinyoung first. But nice as I am, I’m also an asshole. It didn’t take me long to remember.
The breakup was bad. The hicky Jinyoung found on my neck began a series of questions that led to a series of shouts that led to me leaving the house before the entire family was involved. Of course, that didn’t stop it. There were angry phone calls, from both Jinyoung and Wonyoung—Jinyoung about Wonyoung and then Wonyoung screaming for her money or to get her sister off her back.
Things weren’t easy when Jinyoung and I shared an apartment. I had a head start but it wasn’t enough to get all my shit packed up and out the door. When she came home, she immediately set to tearing the place apart. She threw my toolbox out the window, and it came very close to shattering and spilling out all the money that was hidden inside of it.
I had to find someone to sub-lease my half of the apartment, which was a nightmare in this economy. I had Jinyoung’s friends calling me, leaving text messages, telling me what a monster I was. Yes, me, a monster. Well…
Comes the end of the year and I need a date for this shindig. I hadn’t even thought about it, was planning to just feel sorry for myself, drinking and try not to slit my wrists alone in the hotel room. But a chance encounter in a coffee shop changed my mind.
-
I had been sitting in the corner of the cafe with my laptop for about ten minutes. I’d been in there for an hour already, catching up on work, trying to get everything in my docket finished before the company party, when I noticed a girl come in through the door with a group of friends.
Her friends were fine, but she had a long trail of raven black hair, the unapologetic cleavage in her low-cut top clued me in to her breasts; the mini-skirt tipped me off to the ass. It was Wonyoung. For five minutes I didn’t know what to do. On the sixth minute, I shut my laptop.
She excused herself from the group to use the restroom, and when she did, I followed her in. She was closing the door behind her when I slid my foot between the door and the jamb. She started fuming even before she saw me. “Hey…” She stopped.
We regarded each other with quiet, calculating grimaces, and then, as if on cue, she opened the door and we entered the restroom together.
“What the do you want?”
“To give you your money.”
She snorted. A puff of air escaped her lips and tossed one of her bangs back over her ear. The action was adorable. “Right,” she said. “What do you want me to do, fuck you in this shitty bathroom?”
“No, but good guess,” I said.
She crossed her arms and gave me a nasty smirk. “My family thinks you’re just the sleaziest shit right now. It’s awesome.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged. “Like I give a shit. No one’s thinking about the money right now. My sister won’t stop giving me shit about you but whatever.”
“So, I guess you don’t need the money anymore?”
She bugged her eyes as if receiving some sort of revelation. “Oh, wow, you mean you’re really going to give it to me? I’m not stupid!”
“No,” I said agreeably. “No, Wonyoung, you’re a smart one.”
“Look,” she said, “you’re not my sis’s boyfriend anymore and I don’t care what you do with the money. So, uh, I think we’re done here.”
I nodded. “We can be, if you want. But I have a proposition for you.”
“Fuck that.”
I threw up my hands. “Oh Come on, Wony. Didn’t we have some laughs?”
She sneered. “Yeah, Riiight. All those times you fucked me when my sister wasn’t around? Yeah, those were great times.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints though.”
“I literally complained the entire time. Or did you not hear me calling you out, while you were cumming in my ass?”
“Good times,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “Will you please leave? Or do you want to watch me piss now?”
“No,” I said, “my perversion does not extend that far. However, I do have a proposition for you and I ask only that you hear me out before any further profanity.”
“Fuck you.”
“Right,” I said. “I’m willing to give you your money back.”
“If…?”
“If you come to this company party with me. You’d come as my date. You’d be there with me.”
“And that’s it?”
“No, that’s not it.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I thought so. You really get off on getting off on me, don’t you?” She made a grand show of searching the ceiling with her eyes. “My sister hates you right now.”
“I understand that.”
“So, what, I have to wear a nice dress, pretend you’re my prince charming?”
“You’d only be there for the drinking and food. The boring business stuff is earlier in the day.”
“Right,” she said. “And I should believe you because…?”
“I’ll bring the money with me. I’ll show it to you as soon as you get into the hotel lobby. If I don’t have it, you can walk out and leave. If you stay, I’ll give it to you.”
“When?”
“After.”
She laughed. “You think you’re so smart,”
“Actually, I thought I sounded desperate.”
“You do,” she said. “You are. You’re pathetic. Why don’t you get some other girl to come with you? Oh, that’s right. Cause you’re an asshole.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I’d rather go with you.”
“I bet you would.” She leveled her gaze at me. “When is it?”
“End of next week. I can send you the directions.”
She took a deep breath, and without another thought, just nodded. “If I show up and you don’t have the money, I will stab you in the lobby, I don’t care who sees it.”
“I believe you,”
“Now leave, I have to piss.”
“Can I watch?”
-
The weeks stretched by like they were laden with lead weights. On the day of the party, I tossed the ill money in my duffel bag. The seminars were excruciating. The small talk was boring. But at about 7 PM, when the company members were coming downstairs in their finery, my boss was already drunk, and I was waiting in the lobby, the night, quickly, and briefly, was all worth it.
Wonyoung arrived. She had a small bag with her, enough for a night’s stay, and it was taken by the bellboy without much fuss. She knew what number the room was. And she strode towards me on the wide red-carpeted floor.
She was in nothing but a straight white dress, and I mean nothing else. She did have a pair of white heels that went all the way up, but there was not a bra strap in sight over her bare, brown shoulder. Her breasts were squeezed into the outfit, that shimmered and bent the light, and the hem went to just about thigh-level. Just about. When she walked the fabric slithered over her ass. And the eyes of the hotel did likewise.
I opened my mouth to tell her what she already knew but she cut me off. “Money,” she said. Her eyes were rimmed with dark mascara, her cheeks blushed. The money appeared in my hand and swiftly returned to my pocket.
“How do I know it’s all there?”
“It’s all there,” I said.
“Liar.”
“It’s all there,” I said. “Do you want to tell the bellboy to bring your bag back?”
“If it’s not…” she growled.
“You’ll cut me, I get it,” I said. ‘Fair is fair, I know. Now, look,’ I said, I looped my arm through hers, “you’re here as my date. So, you have to make believe you’re having a great time.”
“My imagination isn’t strong enough.”
But it was decent enough. I introduced her to my co-workers as Wonyoung, which she was, my girlfriend, which she definitely was not. They all wanted to know what she did and where she came from and she smiled and nodded whenever possible, laughing when she absolutely had to, and only tensed and flinched when I slid my hand down her backside. After thirty minutes of small talk while we waited for the bar and dance room to clear, she bent her mouth to my ear. “Where’s the expensive wine, you promised me?”
“Inside,” I said.
“Your co-workers are boring.”
“Yes… Yes, we are.”
What followed would only be more of the same. My boss came over to ask me who I was with, and I happily told him she was in love with me, a woman who believed in all the great qualities I possessed, who supported me, was faithful to me, who was not necessarily prettier than her sister, but much hotter, and fucked like a wild rabbit. My boss smiled and nodded, drunk off his ass. He had to find it first and Wonyoung sneered at his wife as she gave us both a dirty look and carted him off. “Wine,” said Wonyoung. “He drank it all, didn’t he?”
We were back at the table, everyone loosened up and drinking freely, and Wonyoung was giggling with my co-worker about how smart I thought I was, and I was just laid back enough to let them have at it.
-
The four of us broke away from the group as the night wound down, and we all helped each other find the way to the elevator and up to our floor. They said goodnight and tried to look casual as they strolled off to their room. As soon as they had their backs to us, I pressed Wonyoung up against my hotel door and kissed her.
She kept her eyes wide, watching them down the hall. I could feel her body tense, waiting for them to disappear into the room. And I kept my eyes open too, to drink in the sight of her angry eyes, feel her charged muscles, while I slid my tongue deeper into her mouth.
My hand gently pushed her to the door, while my other found her backside. I fondled one curvaceous ass cheek, almost reaching the hem of her skirt. She reached behind herself and pulled me away, but she didn’t break the kiss.
Her mouth was wet, her lips was puffy. Wonyoung pushed me off. “Ah,” she groaned. She wiped her pink-colored lip with the back of her hand. “You bit me.”
“Thought it would help your concentration.”
She gave me a withering look. “Just let me in so I can get my bag and get out of here.” I smiled in the most diabolical way that I could. Mostly for her displeasure, but the motivation behind it was very real. “You’re not leaving tonight.”
Her brows knit together. “Fuck that,” she said. “I did what you said, showed up to this stupid thing, now pay up.”
“Nope,” I said. “I told you I needed you here for the event. Tomorrow morning is when we leave. How’s it going to look if I show up tomorrow and my date’s high tailed it out of there? They’ll think you were some kind of escort.”
Wonyoung looked furious. Her eyebrows came down over those blazing eyes. I had to wonder if she genuinely hadn’t known, or if my company disgusted her that much. Down below, in my pants, I hoped it was both.
“I’m not…” she started.
“You know what you’re here for,” I said. “Don’t waste my time.”
“Don’t waste your time?” she fumed. “Okay I’m going.”
“Really? You put up with everything tonight to go home empty handed?”
“I’m not spending another second here,” she hissed. “Especially not to…”
I put my hand on the door, barring her way. “I have some of your money in my pocket. The rest is inside,” I said. “You want it, you can look for it.”
She shook her head.
“You can always just tell me no.”
The skin on her nose wrinkled, her whole face joining in to grimace. “No,” she said. “No, I won’t do anything your sick brain wants.”
“It’s not my brain,” I put in. I leaned in closer. Our bodies brushed together against the door. “Do you want the money or not?”
“It’s mine,” she said.
“So, you’re welcome to take it. Inside.”
Her eyes studied mine, the wicked gears inside calculating, maybe ways to subdue me, maybe how to kill me. I could see, though, that tonight had been no joy for her and to walk out now would only compound her fury. “Fine,” she said. “Open it.”
“Not until you know what you’re going in there for,” I said.
“To get the money.”
“To honor our deal.”
“You said I had to pretend to be your girlfriend for the night,” she said quickly, spitting the words out without thinking.
“Oh yeah,” I said.
Before she could protest, I’d swiped the key into the card lock and we pushed inside. Wonyoung’s bag was set primly beside the bed. My suit and bag were on top of it. Wonyoung stalked to the bed, to my bag, and I was treated to the sight of those long legs flashing in the striped light of the blinds, the lamp inside and the hall’s diminishing radiance. The door swung shut, and Wonyoung was at the bed, my bag unzipped, rifling through it.
I let her search, closing the door. Should I lock it? I wondered, and casually strolling into the room. It was a good room the company had provided. There was a bathroom on my left, a small kitchenette behind it and running from the door to the wall. On my right was the sliding closet, with both doors’ full-length mirrors. The bed was on the far-right side of the room and the bathroom was across from it, beside the TV.
Wonyoung’s face only grew darker as she flung my shit further across the room, to no success. A gray undershirt hung from the TV, and one of my socks had even caught in the half-lidded Venetian windows. I savored the movements of her, her bare arms scouring the bag, the fine muscles beneath the skin twitching with unconcealed tension. This was the first time, I thought, the first time my proper girlfriend wasn’t sleeping around the corner or waiting for me to return, the first time her family wasn’t around to threaten me with. We were two people in a hotel room; for all intents and purposes, as far as my colleagues knew, she was happy to be here, doing the things that couples did.
My body stirred, even as I stood motionless in the center of the room. My manhood stiffened. She had stopped going through the bag. She’d turned it upside down, finished with it in a petulant fury, its flattened fabric deflated, just like her hopes to finish this without another word to me. But if her hope was deflated it did not stop her anger. It radiated out of her, making every glistening surface of her shine that much brighter. We were both lightly sweaty from the dancefloor downstairs. Some of it had evaporated in the intervening hours. I could smell myself, sort of, but I couldn’t ignore her. Her perfume and shampoo were still lingering in her hair but her sweat, a pure, natural aroma, filled the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, one leg drawn up under her skirt, one leg heading down, way down, to her white heel in the carpet. Her hemline, which had started low, was drawn up and stuck under her bottom, so half her ass was visible on the bed. Her breasts pushed at the fabric of her top, the deep shadow of her cleavage lined with sweat. Her hair trailed over her shoulders, almost reaching the tops of her breasts.
“It’s not in there,” I said simply.
She was up, she was moving. She was in front of me, breathing in my face. She didn’t shake with all that energy; she kept it bottled and bound inside. I imagined it swirling behind her eyes.
“Give it to me,” she said.
“I will.” My eyes fell over her full lips; the bright eyes that lacked the inquisitive earthiness of her sister but were filled with something more obvious, sinister, and lancing.
“Where is it?” she said. Her lips came together, puckered. “Give it to me,” she said darkly.
“Take off your shoes.”
I did not expect the slap. It came so quickly, one minute I was leering at her, the next I was staring at the floor. I shook myself, and cocked my head back. Wonyoung still looked mad, but satisfied.
“You can do that again, if you want.”
“You…” she started.
“Take them off.”
She remained planted to the ground, a buxom statue, a sweaty, organic embodiment of all my sexual demons. I wanted to peel off her clothes and taste every wet crevice she hid underneath them. My cock only hardened to think I had the time to do it. Provided she didn’t castrate me in the attempt. What tickled me, though, insofar as I could be tickled, was the glimpses of superiority that I caught from her time and again. She knew I wanted to fuck her; there could be no mistaking that; but did she recognize how hard I wanted to fuck her, how strenuously I needed to sink myself inside her, how badly I wanted to hold her, and squeeze her, and hear her curse me and groan? She thought I wanted her tits and ass. That was true enough. But did she know I wanted her, inside her body, her ignorant, evil little heart?
I reached into my pocket. The money appeared, slightly damp from the sweat of my body, but neatly folded in a metal clip. Wonyoung’s eyes registered the cash, but her mouth betrayed her. It was surprise that I saw. I smiled and tucked the cash away again.
“You said that was half of it.”
“No, that’s all of it. I just didn’t know how else to get you inside. And believe me, when I lose my clothes, you’re free to take it all. I’ll keep my word about that at least,” I said. “And you’ll get it. But the night’s not over.”
“No,” she said.
“Take them off, Wony.”
Without taking her eyes off me, she fiddled with her heel beneath her. I didn’t break the stare. I watched her descend, heard the clop of her heel hit the ground, then the other. Her toes slid the shoes from her feet, and slid them behind her. The heels must have been several inches, because now her nose was about level with my chin. We stood there in silence for a moment, her seething, me letting my cock harden against the fabric of my slacks. I could do anything with her, I thought. Malevolent thoughts swirled in my brain, but if I had to be honest, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
“You know what you’re here for?” I asked.
Her lips hardened to a tight line. My eyes led down her chin to the stiff, proud neck, to her deep cleavage, and the sparkling white dress. I wanted to throw her down and make her say my name. She never would, I thought.
“Are you going to say anything?”
“Let’s get this over with,” she said.
I reached out and drew her to me. She came without protest, though still stiffly. I let her feel me against her mound, our bodies still hot from the dancefloor. My mouth went to hers. But I was only kissing her lips. She didn’t open.
“I don’t have to put on a show for anyone,” she muttered into my tongue.
“Just me,” I said.
“Fuck you,” she said matter-of-factly.
I pulled away and nodded. “Go to the wall.” I pointed to the wall between the bathroom and the TV. She went. I waited so that I could watch her ass shift and sway under the shimmering material. How, I thought, how could a man know that was in the world and not want it? And how evil would he have to be to get it?
She turned when she reached it, looking only partly confused. She probably expected me to tell her to take it off. That wasn’t going to happen yet.
“Face the wall, Wony.”
She put a hand on it, then narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?” she said.
“I’m telling you what I want, No more questions. Face the wall. Put your hands on it.”
She did it quickly enough. She turned and laid her palms flat on the wall. But she didn’t trust me — and I couldn’t blame her — so she kept glancing behind, her eyes not failing to show her trepidation.
“Bend over,”
For once she did it without protest. This she understood. This she could see in her mind’s eye. Me, wanting her, plunging into her. Wonyoung’s hand slid down the wall as she bent at the waist. The skirt rode up the backs of her thighs, up to the bottoms of her tight little ass.
I slid the skirt the rest of the way. It nearly took my breath away. Wonyoung’s bare ass was taut, moist from the night’s exertions, the delectable handfuls of her bottom perky, round. And she wasn’t wearing a strip of clothing under there. No panties. Her pussy was shaved bare. I could tell because she bent over far enough for me to see it. I reached for her cheeks and pried them apart, to get a look at her asshole.
“What are you doing?” she growled, nearly sliding off the wall.
Annoying her, I thought. “I said no more questions.”
“Stop,” she said. My fingers dug deeper into her. Was it her asshole she was worried about? I wanted to spread those cheeks to make her uncomfortable. And it was working.
“You can yell out for whoever you want,” I said. “It’s just us tonight.”
She was turned from the wall, her hands still planted on it. “Just take it out and do it,” she hissed.
Almost business-like, I thought. I gently released her, letting her ass cheeks wobble, loving every bouncing inch of them. But I didn’t do it, at least not what Wonyoung intended. I got a good grip on her left hip, and arced my hand back, and delivered a swift smack to her right ass cheek.
Wonyoung let out a choked cry. Her hair whipped as she sank a demonic glare over her shoulder, at me. “Face the wall,” I said. She did. She pushed her hands into the wall and leaned back. I rubbed the reddened skin of her ass and swung back. I laid a second smack on her cheek, making her reel forward on her toes. “Ah!” she gasped.
I gripped her right hip, and raised my left hand. “You got me in a lot of trouble,” I said mildly, and brought my palm down on her thick little ass.
“AH!” She didn’t even try to stifle her gasp.
I slid my hands down her thighs, not stopping the slow journey of my fingertips until I reached the backs of her knees. I bent forward, my nose at her tailbone, and kissed between the fleshy meeting of her cheeks.
“Don’t…” she pleaded.
I stepped back. “Don’t what?” I spanked her again.
The white dress hung off her waist and I had to imagine what her breasts were doing under there. Without a bra, she must be hanging right against the fabric, something I could see if her long hair wasn’t in the way. But she was half naked, from the waist down, all that elegance bundled up and wrinkled at her waist, lower body planted in the carpet, anticipating her next spanking. ‘You knew what tonight was about,’ I said. I grabbed her ass roughly and spanked her hard on the right cheek. This time she swallowed her cry and released a tight exhalation. I could see her calves tense. “Didn’t you?” I said. I spanked her again. She went up high on her toes.
“Nuh!” she said.
“If you were my girlfriend, you’d be enjoying this right now,” I said.
“Fuck you,” she said.
I gave her another slap on the ass. She pressed closer to the wall.
“I asked you to come to my company retreat, and you show up without a bra and panties? Not very lady-like,” I said as I squeezed her cheeks. Then I gave her a sharp underarm smack, right between her thigh and ass.
“Ah!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I bent over her. My lips drank in the sweat on her spine, wending a wet trail down to her tailbone again, down her cheek, to the flushed skin on her rump. “Can I kiss it better?”
She wiggled me off.
I pressed close to her. My hand sunk into the cleft of her ass until I found her labial folds. Without warning, I slipped a finger high up into her snatch. She was soaked.
“Agh!” Wonyoung growled. She peeled one hand off the wall and I pinned it back with my own. My shoes slid behind her heels to keep her at the wall and I bent over her while my fingers rimmed the inner edges of her pussy. “You… shit…” she groaned.
I bent my mouth to her ear. “What did you tell your sister?”
She laughed. This close I could smell and see the sweat running down her face, and from the line in her forehead I knew that my fingers in her were not without their reaction. Still, she laughed, ass out and bent over against the wall. So, I lubed up my thumb in her sticky pussy and pushed the button of her asshole until it sunk in.
“No,” she groaned.
“Push back, Wony.”
She did. My knuckles vanished within her tightness, and she drew herself closer to the wall, her orifices nearly free of my fingers.
“Push back.”
She sank herself back onto them.
The thought of her orifices just made me hotter, and I couldn’t stand the wet mess I was making on the inside of my slacks. With my free hand I reached down and undid my belt, telling Wonyoung not to stop pushing herself back and towards the wall. I pulled my pants and boxers down, my dick flipping up from the waistband, and hurriedly kicked my shoes off, kicking it all in a pile in front of the bathroom. I came up closer, till my cockhead was rested against her butt cheek, and snaked a finger of my free hand across her mouth, until my index broke past her lips. She tried to bite, but I ignored it. And soon she was sucking on my finger, pushing my left hand in and out of her ass and pussy.
“What did you tell her,” I said, returning to her ear. I wrapped my wet finger under her lips.
“I told her you liked to fuck me,” she said. “That you’re a pervert.”
“That’s true,” I said. I rubbed my dick back and forth on her tight cheeks. “But is that what you really told her?”
She laughed again. “Do you actually think you’re getting back together with her?”
It was something I still considered, but hearing Wonyoung say it didn’t make it sound any saner. I shoved my fingers deeper inside her.
“Ah! Don’t!”
“Don’t?” I said again. “Do you not know what you’re going to do tonight?”
She spat back her answer, the only honest answer, the one we’d both known since she’d hit the dancefloor. “I’m going to fuck you,” she said.
“That’s right,” I said. “I think you’re wet enough.”
She didn’t have an answer to that. But her body answered for her. Her juices were running between my fingers and dripping down the inside of her bare leg.
I pulled my fingers out and slid them up to her waist. She shuddered. Her whole body shook. Wonyoung sank lower into her position, the muscles in her back and legs straining, but not giving out. She was built for this, I thought. She was hard in all the necessary places to let me fuck her the way I wanted, to stay bent over against this hotel wall, soft in all the best places to take me standing up, deep. I had no doubt how deep I could go, as hard as I was for her, as wet and wide as her legs could spread. But I refused my aching cock, and that lathered pussy. I reeled back and spanked her again.
Wonyoung let out a shocked growl. “Stop!” she said.
I spanked her again. “You want to be fucked but not spanked?” I said.
“Fucking… asshole…” she growled, but it sounded half-hearted, caught in the lie.
“You were going to tell your dad I raped you when I’m not?” I said. “The knife at my throat. Your pussy on my cock? I didn’t think that was very funny.” I brought down my palm on her firm cheek. Its jiggle gave me a deep satisfaction.
Wonyoung growled again, but she laughed. It was a forced laugh, but still high, higher than the growls she made when my fingers were inside her. “I would have…” she said.
I spanked her again. Her head swung closer to the wall, but she was lower now, expecting to be fucked. She couldn’t pull herself away without falling, and I was locked behind her. She had to take the humiliation.
I pulled her dress farther up her back, exposing her smooth porcelain skin. I trailed my fingertips over her shoulder blades, digging my fingers gently under her ribs, wending down, squeezing her cheeks like I owned them.
“Why don’t you call him now?” I said. I swung back and spanked her left cheek. She rocked forward. “Unh.” I spanked her again. “Do it. Call for daddy.”
“You sick…” she groaned, then I slapped her ass — her shivering, red, tight ass — “Pervert!” she cried.
I squeezed her. My fingers teased, one after the other, the line of her moist pussy. “Say it,” I said.
“Ah!” she hissed as she felt my hand leave her skin, but she stuck her ass further out in readiness. When the spank came, she rolled with it, her hair brushing the smooth wall. “Ah!”
Pressed up against that wall I knew exactly where I fit. I grabbed myself, forced myself between her cheeks, and plunged my cock as deep into her soaked pussy as she could take me.
“AH. FUCK,” she cried.
Just as lightning fast, I slid out. Her juices came with me. There was a thick sheen of her fluid coating my cock, and a short trail of it that followed when I pulled out. Inside her, even for a moment, I knew my resolve would melt. I wanted back inside her as soon as possible. Wonyoung, however, was shaking, her legs quivering, her body rocking back and forth on her heels and toes. Her ass bent farther, and farther back, her waist gyrating, twisting like she had on the dancefloor, seeking my cock.
To my surprise, she pushed off the wall and reached behind her, pulling at the white dress and clawing it off her head. She was naked in an instant, the dress thrown beneath her. I reveled in the sight of that strong, supine body, braced against the wall.
“Just do it!” she screamed.
“Did you miss it, Wony?” I asked, rubbing my cock in the cleavage of her ass. Her body jerked at its sudden contact. “Do it,” she hissed.
“No,” I said as I put my hand on her ass. “Call for daddy.”
“You…” I spanked her. “Ah!” I spanked her harder on her tight right cheek. I gripped her cheeks possessively and laid another harsh smack on the other.
“Daddy…” she groaned.
“Say you’re sorry,”
“Fuck…” Wonyoung moaned, for the first time sounding tired. She relaxed against the wall. “Sorry… I’m sorry… daddy.”
I patted her rump. Then I gripped her hip, and guided my cock, between her pussy lips, up into that hot, wet lips.
“Ahh,” Wonyoung growled.
“Not so bad, is it?” I said. “When you apologize.”
“I hate you…”
I pulled out of that lovingly tight canal and dragged my wet cock along her leg. “Say it,”
“No,” she whined.
I spanked her.
“Fuck! I’m sorry daddy! Are you happy?”
“Yes,” I said, plunging my cock up inside her.
Wonyoung let out a breathless moan. “Harder,” she gasped. “Oh, God…”
I pulled out. Reeling back, Wonyoung let out a grunt of frustration. When she pushed her ass back to me I spanked it hard.
“Enough!” she shouted.
She whirled. The sound of her back colliding with the wall was loud, a fleshy thud. She tried not to wince when her tender bottom brushed against it. Her eyes were wide, not mad but almost crazed.
Her chest rose and fell. She was breathless, her sweat forming a trail that shined from her cleavage to her clean-shaven pussy. My hands were on her breasts in an instant. Then my mouth was on her.
“Just… do it!” she stuttered between my kisses.
“You don’t want to be spanked anymore?” I said, bending down. I rooted in my crumpled pants until I found the folded bills. I pushed them between her lips until she clamped down on them with her teeth.
I pulled off my shirt, then my socks. I trailed my hands down her arms and dragged them up above her head, then I descended on her chest, slathering her soft skin with wet kisses, popping one nipple in my mouth, balancing her full breasts in my greedy palms. Wonyoung didn’t protest. She kept her arms above her head, the money in her mouth, and I sank lower. I lapped up the sweat between her tits, drank it up from her bellybutton, going lower and lower, until I was at the wet trap of her pussy. Descending to my knees, I attacked her pussy like it was ripened fruit, first sucking up the wetness that collected at the vulva, then suckling at her exposed clitoris. Wonyoung grunted through the cash. Her hands jerked off the wall.
I dug in deeper, using my fingers to open her wet pussy, darting my tongue deeper inside her. Wonyoung jerked again, then sank her fingers into my hair. She had to, I realized. It was getting harder for her to stay on her feet. I listened to her groan again through the cash and let her unconscious sounds guide me further into her vagina.
I drank her up, what came pouring out of her, and it was danker than her sweat, unmistakeable vaginal fluid, thicker and pungent. Wonyoung ground her pussy into my face. I was so involved I didn’t notice her leg on my shoulder at first. But I felt it when the heel dug into my back.
Wonyoung pressed my head deeper between her leg, tilting her hips up to force more of herself into my mouth. She lifted her leg to steady herself, opening herself up wider. The cash tumbled from her mouth and hit me on the head. It fluttered to the ground, forgotten, when Wonyoung gave her first scream.
Like a lot of sounds Wonyoung made, it was hard for me to tell if this one was pleasure or exasperation, but suddenly she was sawing her pussy back and forth on my lips, insistently rubbing her clitoris on the soft indent in my upper lip. My tongue lapped at her, diving into her. The flood of her juice made me spit some back. It washed back over my mouth, covering it with sticky residue.
My cock was stiff as a pole between my legs. I reached down and gave it a firm squeeze, then ran my hand lovingly up the inside of Wonyoung’s knee. She slid down the wall slowly, the leg that was bent over me taking some time to roll off my shoulder. Cock in hand, on my knees, I presented it to her.
“You’re going to suck this now,” I said.
Wonyoung was past the point of arguing. She wiped her hair out of her eyes and leaned forward. I grabbed her shoulders first, her chin. I tilted her face up to mine. What I saw in her eyes was an exhausted sullenness, still the smoldering rebellion.
“Do you want to taste yourself?” I asked.
My tongue was out and her lips were on it, sucking up her own juices, letting her own stickiness coat her soft lips. I broke away and put my palm gently at the back of her neck.
Wonyoung’s lips wrapped around my dick.
I leaned back. I groaned deeply, at every fervid lick. She lapped at the slit, slathering her tongue around the swollen head, then took my member deeper to the back of her throat. Like a pro, she reached down to cup my balls.
I balked at the first sound of a gulp. “Don’t swallow,” I said. “Spit it out.”
She gave a rude noise and suddenly my balls were coated with precum and her saliva. Very soon the wetness was dripping from the base of my shaft to the floor, and Wonyoung’s fingers were massaging my balls, squeezing them just hard enough to make me groan.
She bobbed down lower. Her hand pushed my stomach, and I went back, my knees folding under me. Wonyoung crawled forward until she was on top, her throat opening above my cock until her lips were buried in my pubic bone. I twitched, and my cock bulged, and I had to pull her off or I would have cum right then and there. She came up gasping.
Her eyes were so wide I could see the whites in them under her long black lashes. She was mad, yes, but she was always mad at me; her nostrils flared as much from anger as from having her breath choked off by my wet cock.
“You like that?” she said proudly. “That make you feel big?”
I sat up on the floor, eye level with her. “Get on your hands and crawl to the mirror.” With only an eyebrow she squeezed all her contempt into that look. “Prick,” she said.
“Crawl,” I said. “Let me see that tight ass wiggle when you do it.”
She scowled, but she leaned down to the floor just the same. “Is that what it takes to make your dick hard?” she said.
“You would know.”
Wonyoung crawled, on her hands and knees, to the sliding closet and the full-length mirror. I watched her pass, every sweaty muscle on her lithe, slinking form gliding. When her ass moved past, I saw how red both cheeks were. She would be sore tomorrow, maybe even bruised. I remembered how long it took for the bite on my neck to heal and thought it might have been an even trade. That wasn’t true, but it made me feel better.
Just like it made me feel better to stand up and follow Wonyoung’s slow crawl to the closet mirror. My eyes travelled from her swaying rump to her body in the mirror. And her eyes were watching me. Her full tits were full on display. The tight ass on her rolled each time she drew up a knee to travel closer to the far side of the room. She didn’t say another word when she reached the mirror, just waited on her hands and knees for me to arrive.
I made her spread her legs. Then I kneeled down behind her.
My cock was hard and red, slick with her spit and the cum from her pussy. She was so wet it took little more than an insistent push for me to enter her. And when I did, I got to watch Wonyoung’s face as it filled her up. It made her mouth tilt down, in not quite a frown but a stiff little moue. And she got to see my smile as I kneeled behind her and placed my hands on her ass. I fucked her, and mounted her and mounted her, slowly, slowly wedging myself in. Wonyoung’s mouth widened, her shoulders broadening, her chest jutting out. The muscles in her neck and clavicle pulsed, then became more prominent as she took the weight on her arms.
I liked her on her knees. I would have said as much to her, but she knew that already. “See? That’s hard.” Then I spanked her.
She hadn’t expected it, but this time she got to see it. Her body rocked forward; her tits bounced against her arms. And I got to see, to my surprise, her shut her eyes and press her lips together, not wholly from pain but from something else, something that made her frown very much like pain, cross her brows very much like she was trying to expel my cock from her body, but something very much like she endured as much knowing what came next.
“Fuck me,” I said.
Her eyes opened slowly in the mirror. She leaned towards it, slowly pulling herself off my dick. Her thick pussy lips eased from my cock, leaving a glistening coat on my naked shaft. She pulled herself slowly and slowly, all the way until my head was just hanging on the tip of her pussy lips. She left it quivering there, her bent back shivering; not from the cold; there was enough heat radiating off the both of us to make a whole new layer of sweat burst from our bodies.
I spanked her.
Wonyoung cried out and drove herself back down on my cock. The jolt to my senses radiated from the base of my member to all the nerves in my body, and Wonyoung let out another cry when her tailbone impacted with my pelvis. Her eyes weren’t open anymore.
“Fuck me,” I said.
Wonyoung slid off my cock, this time on unsteadier limbs. She tried to speed it up, and it would have felt so much better if she had, but I gripped her hips fiercely and made sure she did it slow, slower even than the first time. This time I held her at bay, with my cockhead balanced at the outer edge of her pussy. With my other hand I wet my middle finger in her leaking sex and plugged it into her asshole. She bit her lip, but didn’t protest. I shoved it farther in, almost losing it up to the second knuckle. I let go of her hip and spanked her again.
Wonyoung cried out. She nearly bounced forward on my dick but I held her hip and pushed in tighter, grinding my dick deeper and deeper inside her. She barely muffled her breath, suddenly letting out a sharp, “Ah. Ah!”
“Fuck me, Wony” I said.
She slid off my cock like an uncoiled spring. I spanked her hard, my finger deep in her asshole. She drove herself back down on it. She buried me in her sopping sex. She was so wet now that her fluid was dribbling down my balls. I wormed my finger deeper into her asshole, until the only thing stopping it was the rest of my fingers. I thrust my hips, and Wonyoung thrust back until her ass mashed against my palm.
I pulled my finger out to sink my cock deeper inside her. She gasped when I curled my fingers over her hips. She pulled herself towards the mirror and shoved her body back onto my cock. She thrust so hard her breasts shook, her hair snapped, but the eyes stayed shut, clamped. I spanked her.
“Harder,” she grunted. I spanked her again.
“Harder!” She pulled off me and slammed her pussy down on my cock. I slapped her ass so hard my hand stung. ‘Ah!’ she growled. “Harder!” I spanked her again and she backed up on my cock, until she was drawing it in and out of her, and the thick sound of our mingling wetness made rude squashing and smacking noises.
I barely thrust, letting her do all the work, pistoning herself back and forth on me. Her hips were locked under my palms, ensuring that she always came back to my hard, straining member. I slapped her ass, spanking her with every downthrust. Wonyoung’s screams for harder melted into guttural cries that built in intensity. She was bouncing herself on my dick, lost to the world, moaning, screaming.
“Is this what it’s like to be your girlfriend?” she hissed.
I held onto myself as long as I could, letting the girl work her wicked power on my body, trying to hold myself back as well as I could, but it was only a matter of time. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore her pace dropped off, and she arched her back, driving herself up and then down on my cock, instead of back and forth. She whipped her face up to the ceiling.
“Don’t…” she said. “Don’t pull out…”
I did the exact opposite. I lunged forward, forcing Wonyoung up on her knees. Her hands wildly thrust out in front of her, bracing herself on the mirror. Suddenly we were pressed together, up against the full-length mirror. I slid my hands around her chest and squeezed her breasts, hard. I had enough strength left to angle my hips and shove up, deep into her pussy. Wonyoung cried out.
“Open your eyes,” I said. Wonyoung’s eyes fluttered open; her mouth wide as she watched my face. I thrust her again and again against the mirror. Her body fell back against mine.
“Watch me cum inside of you,” I said.
“Ahh.” She moaned.
The rest of her response rose higher, breathlessly higher, as I came hard, and spilled my seed. She felt my balls twinge and I unleashed my thick ejaculate deep inside her pussy. Wonyoung was grinding herself down on me with extreme prejudice. For every spurt she pumped down harder, bouncing herself on me without ever pulling up too far. She kept me in her, rolling her hips around the base of my cock to milk her own panting climax.
“You never ask,” she moaned.
I sunk my teeth into her shoulder. She arched her neck back. Our bodies rolled in twisted motion, our sweat mingled, the stench of our bodies burning together steaming up the mirror. Her hair was thick and matted stuck to the skin of my neck, and her bare pussy lips ate up my cock, pressing harder and harder, her legs opening wider to fit me further inside while my balls clenched and continued to force my ejaculate up her canal.
“I’m going to fill you up,” I breathed into her ear, “and when you get my cock hard again, I’m going to do it again…” My dick swelled as I thrust. Her breath caught in her throat. “And again…” I pulled down and plunged up again. “And again…” Wonyoung’s hands left sweaty smears down the mirror’s face. The closet wobbled each time we pushed. “And again,” I said, and she grunted. “And again,” and she moaned.
Each time I spoke I thrust harder, and my dick stayed ramrod straight in her body, even as the cum dripped out of her and ran thickly off her lips and over my aching balls. I spanked her.
“Unh,” she groaned.
Her ass tightened and tingled under my palm. “Unh!” I spanked her again, my other hand leaving her breast to wrap around her stomach, forcing her down on my cock each time the spanking bounced her to the mirror. ‘Unh!’ she grunted. “Ahn! Ahh. Ahn. AHHN.”
Together we slid off the mirror. The perspiration on her tits and belly were enough to smear our reflection on the glass. She dropped to all fours again, me firmly planted inside her. I had begun to soften, but I wouldn’t leave her sopping pussy.
I let my cock slip in and out of her as I continued her spanking, letting them land rhythmically, gentler than before, in time with her breaths. All the while I watched the soaked space between her legs, the base of her pale ass cheeks red and smeared with sweat and our cum. At length I popped out, my dick softened but far from flaccid, still half-turgid at the sight of Wonyoung prone beneath me, and the grace of her body’s lithe muscles. I reached down to caress the thick fluid that collected at the lips of her pussy. Wonyoung hissed and leaned forward. I slid my fingers in. Her pelvis rocked back against my hand.
“Hard again,” she said.
I could no longer see her face in the mirror but I could practically hear the sneer that came with it. “Like you could get it up. You just blew your load inside me. You’re done. Let me get up and wash your cum out of my pussy.”
I rolled my fingers inside the front of her pussy lips. She shivered, her ass jiggling. “No, I think I’m going to let you squeeze me out one drop at a time.”
Without another word Wonyoung’s butt cheeks clenched and she thrust her hips out. I watched her pussy lips tighten over my hand, and squeeze a thimbleful of white cream from her slit. Her legs relaxed, and then she did it again. Both times she released a soft sigh as her tight pussy clenched on my fingers. Despite her orgasm, her body was still aroused.
“If you’re going to wash, I’m going to make sure you wash every one of your dirty little holes…” I murmured.
I pulled my fingers from her snatch and drew my fingertips up her crack. Her skin twitched, dancing away and then to my glistening digits. I found her anus and teased it with my fingered until I could shove two fingers inside with minimum difficulty. Her rectal muscles clamped down, but I was lubricated enough to slide deeper, and deeper.
Wonyoung let out a low mewl.
“If you’re so obsessed with my ass…” she groaned. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? You’re done. Let me go wash so I can get the fuck out of here.”
“I got a better idea. Why don’t I put my mouth where your money is?”
I pulled my fingers out of her. I leaned down, gripped her ass cheeks with both hands and spread them apart. While Wonyoung was still yowling about that I brushed the tight bud of her asshole with my lips, and then I kissed it.
Wonyoung jolted forward as if I’d stuck her tailbone in an electrical socket. But my fingers bit into her soft flesh and kept her from wriggling free. My tongue darted out — and I won’t lie, it didn’t taste like peaches and cream; but the tight squirm of her muscle, the sudden reeling of her hips, the bewildered tone of her screech, was worth it. “Eugh!” she cried. ‘You pervert!’ She said it once more; hissed it, rather. “You sick pervert! You like that? You like to eat my ass? I bet you want to stick your dick in that again.”
I gave her asshole a big fat kiss and pulled back. “I know that’s right where you want me, Wonyoung.”
“Not gonna happen,” she said. She tried to pull away again, on her hands and knees, but I held her hips. It didn’t really seem like she tried that hard anyway.
“Your limp dick couldn’t even if you tried.” She said.
But she was wrong about that. Her pussy was wet and her body writhed at my touch and already I was hard again. I wiped my mouth on the back of my wrist and angled my cock towards her juicy ass. Lovingly, I brushed it up that winding curve.
“Is that right?” I said. “Tell me, do you think you can take the whole thing?” The muscles in her back rippled like a startled pond where I brushed my palm against it. I was growing even harder, and Wonyoung’s shoulders were shaking.
“Your little dick?” She laughed. “Please.”
“Yeah?” I said. I grabbed hold of my dick and slathered the wet head in the clear honey that dribbled from her slit. “My little dick huh?” I slid it between her tight, puffy pussy lips. I pushed and pushed, filling her again, taking my time, letting my blood course through my cock and widen me to my full girth again, straightening my cock and getting it tight and hard as I led it, slow inch by soaking inch, to the top of her uterus.
“Ah. Fuck...”
“Since it’s just a little dick, you shouldn’t have a problem fitting inside your big ass.” Wonyoung’s face suddenly appeared over her shoulder. My fresh bite marks were just beneath her burning eyes. “I do NOT have a big ass.”
“No,” I said. I pulled out of her. Her pupils temporarily rolled back inside her head. With my hand, I guided my cock up to that tight brown button hidden between her cheeks. ‘You have a beautiful ass though’ I said. “But I think it’s just the right size.” I rubbed the head against her asshole. “Why don’t we give it a try?”
Wonyoung’s hips must have been on a different wavelength than her mouth, because her pelvis curled and fell, rising like a sultry snake.
“Fuck you.”
I gripped her haunches and pushed. Her asshole was tight. “C’mon Wony. Don’t make me beg.”
“I do NOT have a big ass.”
“Why don’t you let me and my small dick decide on that?” I said. “Maybe you’ll barely even feel it.” With enough pressure I had managed to squeeze my head partway into her asshole. Her hips shook beneath my steadying palm.
“Anh,” Wonyoung moaned. “You’re obsessed with my ass.”
“Sure am,” I said. I pushed harder; she leaned back on her knees. “I’m obsessed with your tits, your ass, and your dirty little mouth. Open up.”
“Give it up,” she said. “I can still taste your cock at the back of my throat. Pull it out and get off me.”
“Not yet,” I said. “I haven’t given you the ass fucking you wanted.”
“I don’t…” she started, but I had my first inch inside her, and that choked off the rest of her words. “Ah…”
I squeezed her buttocks. “Ease up,” I said. “Let’s see how much you can fit.”
“Nuh…” she said. “No…” Her sphincter relaxed slightly, letting another half inch of me slide up her butt.
“I’ll push in,” I said, “and pull it out. And when I’m done, I’ll cum up your ass, and you can wash that out too.”
“No…” she groaned. She lowered her head. All that wet and tangled black hair fell over her shoulders, sliding off her neck and hanging to the ground. Her anus relaxed a little more and I plunged my wet cock further inside her tight rectum.
“Ah. Ahhn…”
“Think you can take the whole thing?” I said as I pushed in deeper.
Wonyoung grits her teeth and pushed air through her cheeks. She didn’t say another word. She bent forward on her hands and leaned back, and I retreated some, gave her tight ass a reprieve and a caress, and then gently slid forward again.
“Your sister said you were a real slut for an ass fucking,” I said darkly, watching my cock disappear inside Wonyoung’s butt cheeks. Her sweltering tightness was making my dick even harder. With the flat of my palm, I scooped the sweat from her back towards her cheeks, letting it trickle down her crack, then using it to soak my shaft as I held it and jerked myself into her asshole.
“Ah…” she whimpered. “She didn’t… tell you… shit…” she said.
“Pretty trusting of her,” I said, “telling her boyfriend what a slut her little sister is. Do you want me to stop? How’s that little dick?” I was halfway inside her and I could now let go of my shaft, letting Wonyoung’s muscles squeeze me deeper. I laid my hands on her ass and gave her another gentle spank.
“A-ha…” Wonyoung gasped.
“Good thing I’m such a gentleman,” I said. I reached up between her legs and found her clit. Slowly… I rolled the engorged button back and forth with my fingered, her juices soaking down to my knuckle. I slid my thumb lightly over the line of her slit. “Otherwise, I might take advantage.”
“Shut up,” she groaned. Her head rose with each push of my cock, each circle of my finger, and each gentle grazing of my thumb. I laid another soft spanking on her right buttock. “Stah-stop…”
“Do you really want me to stop, Wonyoung?” I said. “Or do you want me to fuck… your slutty…” I squeezed into her with my hips, “little ass. Can you take the whole thing?”
“I can take it…”
“Deeper?”
“Deeper…” she groaned.
Her whole body shook like she was about to have a fit. I couldn’t stand seeing those perky tits in the mirror, so I leaned forward and cupped them. They rose in my hand, the nipples zig-zagging in my palms. I bucked my hips, gliding my shaft up her colon. “Anh… f-fuck…”
“Deeper.”
“That’s a good girl.”
My stomach finally rested against her buttocks. She’d taken me all the way, the full length of my cock, every inch now stuffed securely in her quaking, writhing anus. I flexed my penis inside her, feeling the precum squirt, and Wonyoung uttered a sharp cry. We both rested for moment. I massaged her tits, rubbing them up and down her moist chest. Her nipples were hard as diamonds. I tweaked one; Wonyoung bit her lip and groaned. Then I pulled myself gently out, about halfway, before guiding it back into her hot depths. ‘Good thing your sister was wrong about you,’ I said. “I’d feel bad if I was fucking the slutty sister. She couldn’t help herself.”
Wonyoung seemed to struggle to find her words. My left hand still groped her tits but my right hand gone back between her legs to play with her pussy and clit. Wonyoung’s hips were alive with squirming sharp and herky jerky twists.
“I am not a slut,” she said.
I spanked her for that. “Where can you taste my cock, Wonyoung?” When she didn’t answer right away, I spanked her again when my cock was as deep inside her ass as I could fit it. I felt the spank resonate on her skin, and the vibration made my cock buzz inside her. Taking the cock and the spanking at once made Wonyoung’s ass writhe beneath me and her upper body swing lower to the floor.
“In my mouth…”
“Who went up to my hotel room without a bra or panties?” I drove my cock inside her and spanked. We both shivered.
“I’m not… a slut” she whined again, taking me up her ass.
“Whose cum is that I can feel leaking out your pussy?” I spanked her.
“Yoursss…”
“Whose cock is up your butt?”
Wonyoung whipped her hair back. She nearly screamed the words to the wall.
“My sister’s fucking boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” I said. “Does that turn you on?” In response to my push, she opened up her anal muscles and let out a throaty groan. “Do you like that I can’t keep my dick out of you?”
She growled. “I don’t care where you stick your dick.” I thrust hard and she bent her elbows. “Ahn… fuck!”
With an audible squelch I pulled out of her. The thick coating on my cock was from the cum I’d unleashed inside her pussy, the new precum slathering my head and glans, her vaginal juices and sweat and more than that. I watched it drip off my cock and from her anus for a moment while she remained prostrate on the floor. I grabbed her hip; she tried to swing me off but I pulled her to the side. It didn’t take much strength at all to roll her on her back. She hardly fought it at all. Her perky tits were heaving, her body covered in sweat, her hair plastered to her face.
I crawled up on top of her, my dick slapping against her tummy. My mouth found hers, and we kissed furiously. Her hands found my dick and started jerking me. Hard and faster. “Not yet,” I groaned into her mouth.
“You’re gonna cum,” she said. “I can feel it...”
“Get up on the bed,” I said. “I’m going to cum in your ass.”
“No,” she groaned.
“You’re going to take it, Wony.” I growled back.
“You’ve cum enough,” she said, refusing to let go of my cock. She pumped it faster, and faster in her hand. My fingers wrapped her wrist like a vice and flung her off. She didn’t miss a beat, grabbed me with the other hand and kept pumping, a cruel smirk on her face.
I swatted the hand away. Panting, I got up on my knees. Her chest heaving, my eyes barely able to tear themselves away from the sight, I grabbed her arm. She didn’t come easily. I had to pull her; I had to heave her up, and she slapped at me and tried dodging me all the way; but I got her up on the bed and I rolled her on her back. She locked her legs together.
“Make me,” she said.
I pried them apart. That beautiful tight pussy looked sweet as heaven with its vertical smile but I was after the road less travel. I tilted her hips up until I saw her brown eye. I gripped my lubricated dick in my hand and rubbed it against her asshole. “Unh…” she groused.
I could actually see the twisted upturned nose this time, her folded brows. Her hands still pushed against me but her anus opened up. Before long I was pushing up inside her like her muscles were coated in grease. More or less, they were.
I rolled it up inside her until my balls were dangling on the mattress edge. Wonyoung grunted all the way. “Unh… uhh… unnh.” This position was a lot more uncomfortable for her, and her angry eyes told me so, but there was a hunger in those angry eyes that jolted and flared each time I retracted and slid myself back in. And from this position I now had full access to her pussy.
Better than that though, best of all, was that on her back, my dick up her crack, Wonyoung no longer could brace herself on her hands and knees. Her legs were in the air, her arms wide open on the bed. She couldn’t claim submission here; her limbs were free to flail and strike me as she pleased. But both arms and legs stayed open and limp, as she watched me spit and apply them, in vibrating circles, to her engorged clitoris.
“Fuck… you…” she groaned.
My balls were begging for release. My shaft was thick and tight inside her. But I nearly made myself blind trying not to cum. I slipped a finger and then two, up Wonyoung’s streaming cunt and she kept screaming, groaning, taunting me, gyrating her hips to pull herself up and down on my cock.
“Just cum… I know you wanted to.”
All pretense to gentleness in her ass was gone. I was thrusting myself in and out of her rectum like a racer pounding for the finish line. Wonyoung’s legs widened, her thighs clung tightly to my sides, her toes curled suspended above the bed. The bed slammed the headboard, the coils squeaked. And she reached out to brace herself, her palms on my stomach, not to stop me, to keep her body steady while her belly rolled and undulated. Her irises rolled back in her head till I saw the fluttering whites of her eyes.
“You first, Wony,”
“N-no…” she stammered out.
Then, sweat coating her forehead, her hair fanned wildly all about her head, she cracked a twitching, feeble grin.
“Jinyoung… said you were… such a nice guy.”
I thrust deeper up her asshole. “I do,” I panted. I was coming to the edge as I watched Wonyoung’s juices flow over my knuckles.
“Balls deep in my ass,” she grunted. ‘You want to see me cum?’ Her mouth hung open, her tongue bright pink beneath her white teeth. A trail of clear saliva left the corner of her lips. “You want to see me cum on your fucking cock?”
“Cum for me, Wony.”
“Grab my tits,” she groaned. I slowed my strokes and reached out, my hip pistoning slower to bend forward. I took two handfuls of those perky tits. Wonyoung’s hands splayed flat on top of mine and she arched her back.
“Harder…” she grunted. I plunged deeper, not faster, pulling out, then bucking my hips against her pelvis.
“Ahh… It hurts,” she grunted, but didn’t tell me to stop.  “Squeeze me,” she said. She repeated it: “Squeeze me.”
I squeezed her tits. Sweat burst from under my arms and on my forehead. I was at the end of my rope. I had to cum in this girl. She was gorgeous, wet, writhing, legs wide open and her butt plugged tighter. “Cum...” I said.
“Can’t… force me,” she said.
“Cum with my cock up your ass, Wony.” I arched my hips up. Her feet twitched, toes curling…
“Not a… slut,” she grunted.
I squeezed her tits. “Cum for me,” I said. “Show me what a good slutty little sister you are.”
“Anh,” Wonyoung grunted as I slid my left hand down her flat tummy and laid my thumb gently on her fat pink button. She hissed and bit her lip.
“Give your sister’s boyfriend a show, baby. Cum for me.” I punctuated each word with a smooth thrust into her tight asshole.
“Ah. Ah-ahhhh,” Wonyoung cried, rubbing her pussy against my hand and the fingers dancing over her clit.
“You know how badly I want to cum inside you. Just give it up,” I groaned.
Wonyoung shoved the fingers of her right hand into her mouth and began sucking and biting on herself. Her left hand cupped her breast. “Ahh god, you fucker…” she groaned. “Don’t…” she started. “Don’t stop. Don’t… don’t… don’t—”
“Give it to me, Wony,” I grunted. “Be my little slut.”
“Nah…”
“Be my pretty little slut.”
“I’m not… a slut,” she muttered, back arching, forehead shining.
“My slut.”
“Oh God!” she gasped. “Annh!”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Yes— Yes— Yes—” She grabbed my hips, and grabbed my sides. “Now,” she commanded. “Cum in my ass, you asshole!”
When she felt the initial spurt of my cum, she let out a full throated scream. It wracked her body and made her belly dance. She threw my hand off her clit and ground her ass way down on my cock, her ass tensing, toes curling. My ejaculate was nothing compared to the first, but her climax came like an operatic crescendo. She wriggled on me, letting the weight in her rectum tingle in her tightness, her clitoris engorged, and she screamed. She tightened every muscle on her body, every beautiful muscle. And she came. She came so hard I was almost frightened. But I’ve got a soft heart.
After I pulled myself out, she practically ran to the bathroom. It shut hard and stayed closed for a long time. I heard the shower, I heard her washing, and I heard the toilet flush. And I sat on the bed, stinking, wet and my balls limp on my inner thigh.
After more than a half hour, she emerged from the bathroom, steaming wet, wrapped in a towel with another wrapped over her head. She picked her way, queen of dignity, over the mess of clothes on the ground and pulled the money from the pile. She counted it.
“The bathroom’s free,” she said simply.
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure she would be there when I finished, or even that my clothes and bag would be. But I was coated in enough residue to never mind that for the moment, and took my time cleaning, took my time in the shower thinking about Wonyoung, her body, and us — whatever that was.
I emerged from the shower to a quiet room. The one lamp was on, giving off a dirty yellow glow in the corner, and it smelled now of a mixture of dirty sex and freshly washed bodies. Wonyoung was a dark shadow under the covers, her wet hair on the pillow furthest from me.
I sat down on the bed. “Are you sleeping?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. Soon, I was too.
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Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up. There was a warm body beside me, almost curled against me. The breasts rose and fell on my ribs, the nipples rolling. And she felt good, whoever she was. So I slid my fingers down her back and grasped her tight buttocks.
“No. I’m so sore…”
“Did I hurt you?”
“You always hurt me,” she said. “You’re always rough with me. That’s how you fuck me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, you’re not.”
I noticed that she hadn’t pulled away from me, even as drowsy as she was. Tentatively, I slid my hands up her shoulders, up her back. “Don’t,” she warned.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I said. “I’m just…”
“Just go back to sleep,” she murmured. “I’m staying here because I’m too tired to leave.”
“I am sorry,” I said adamantly. “I don’t mean to… actually hurt you.”
“Yes you do. Stop being an asshole,” she said.
In the solid darkness of the hotel, I could see absolutely nothing. All I could sense of her was her breath on my neck and the weight of her body. And her voice, rising up from the sheets.
“Rough sex is rough,” she said. “And that’s how it is.” Suddenly she bit my chest so hard I shrieked. “Jerk,” she said, when I’d tumbled back to the mattress. I leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away. “I said go back to sleep.”
“This might be the last time I ever see you,”
“Probably.”
“I didn’t…” I searched for the words. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
She gave a mordant little laugh. “Yes, you did.”
“Okay, yes I did,” I said, “but I didn’t—”
“What are you trying to say?” she said. “Do you always babble like this after sex? Jesus Christ, and this is what my sister got.” She was unnaturally quiet. When she spoke again it was after she shifted against me under the covers. Her thigh draped over my cock.
“I’ve got my money back,” she said.
“So, this is the last time?”
“Probably,” she said. “Do you know what I actually hate about you?” She was quiet for a moment, then let loose a husky laugh. When she resumed speaking again, she was quieter.
“I wanted to fuck you,” she said. “That’s what I hate about you. I wanted a nice guy. I guess I didn’t want my sister’s nice guy. I wish you were a nice guy. I wish you were a better guy. If you were, you’d still be with Jinyoung and you never would have fucked me. But I wanted you to fuck me. I could have told you no. I didn’t even need the money. But it was wrong to fuck you, so I wanted to fuck you. I wanted you to show me how bad you had it. And you had it so bad, and then when you fucked me, you fucked me like you owned me, fucked me like you had to, like you couldn’t stand not being in me. All the teasing, your selfish arrogance. I really did hate it. I hated it so much it turned me on.”
“And it would be fine,” she went on, “if we met each other and it was like, hey, we hit it off or something. But I never would have met you if you hadn’t been fucking my sister. And you never would have fucked me if you hadn’t fucked my sister first. So, you are a scumbag. And you made me cum. You made me cum.”
“Wait,” I interrupted. ‘Maybe,’ I said, “maybe this works. Maybe that’s what it took to—” She cut me off with a harsh laugh.
“Are you serious? You don’t want to be in a relationship with me. You just want to fuck me. You don’t even know me.”
“I could start,” I said.
“No,” she said, laughing. “No. This is the situation: we have freaky stupid sex, and that’s it. Every time you tried to make it something more than that, it never was. If I hadn’t been into it from the beginning it never would have happened. But I am into it because… I don’t know.…Because, I did like you, actually. And when I found out you were just the same as any other guy, well, Surprise, surprise…”
“But you still fucked me.”
“You blackmailed me.”
“You said you didn’t need the money.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I also didn’t need the fucking. But that didn’t stop you from taking what you wanted. I took, too.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “So do you like me or not?”
“You’re useful for one thing, at least. Jinyoung never went overboard talking about your sex life but I know for a fact you never fucked her like you fuck me.”
“No,” I admitted.
“Why? Cause I’m the other sister? Cause I’m hot? Don’t answer that. The answer’s yes.”
“Yes and no,” I said. “There’s something in you that I recognize, something in me. I’m not that nice of a guy, fine, but I was never honest with myself or with Jinyoung. I kept putting up a front.”
“You think you don’t do the same thing with me?”
“You do the same thing with me,” I shot back.
Her breath was hot on my face. “So, what’s your point?”
“Just that I do want to fuck you.”
“Great, I’m glad we cleared that up.”
“And I do… sort of… like you, in a weird… not entirely practical way.”
She was quiet. “Remember when I said you’re not as smart as you think you are?”
“Okay, fine. I don’t understand what this is but I don’t want you going away thinking this was all about just fucking your—”
“—my tits, and my ass and my pussy—”
“And your mouth, too. Yes, I wanted you, but I shouldn’t have ever asked you to demean yourself for me.”
“No,” she agreed. “But that’s what you wanted. And that’s what I wanted. And we let it happen. If I didn’t care more about fucking than about my sister, I would have told her a long time ago. You think good sex is enough to break up a relationship for? No. But it wasn’t my relationship. Jinyoung’s good at lots of things, lots of things that aren’t about fucking.”
“So, you’re saying I made the wrong choice.”
“Yeah.”
“Because it felt good.”
“Of course it did,” she said. We lapsed into a hot silence. Cautiously, I stroked the back of her head with my palm. She didn’t push me away.
“So where does that leave us?” I asked. “I mean, if I want to see you again, do I just call you up?”
“You really think you can fuck me whenever you want?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“Well, we don’t have to find out. My sister would kill me if we dated. And I don’t want to date you.”
“So, I lost both of you.”
“Yeah,” she said, ‘but I was only in it for the sex.’ She rubbed her thigh against my cock. During our conversation it had grown until it pressed into her skin.
“Do you want to…” I started.
“No. I told you I’m so sore… you’re not getting another fucking from me tonight.”
“Yeah, well... How about a blowjob?”
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aireia · 2 days ago
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LOVE... YOU'RE DRUNK. — In which Jing Yuan decides to ask you to marry him while he's drunk out of his mind.
tw/cw: gn! reader, drinking/ alcohol consumption, mild crack, overall so fluffy my teeth are rotting. Beta read? What's that? OOC.
note: Rewritten// reposted from my old account (@ rrxaiky)
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“Marry me.” 
“Jing Yuan, love, you’re drunk,” you sighed, taking a small sip of the drink you had ordered. Your lover had one of your hands trapped between his own, and had asked you to marry him with full confidence in his voice. When you opened your eyes to look at him again, you could see the sadness in his eyes, feeling rejected… Before you even rejected him. He let out a yawn and placed his head on your shoulder, letting go of your arms before he circled his own around your waist.
“Look, Yuan- I’m not saying I don’t want to marry you, but you’re not in your right mind right now, so let’s talk about it in the morning, yea?” you gently pulled away from him, carefully setting your drink down before patting his head and ruffling his hair. 
Jing Yuan, however, didn’t seem too happy with your response. He placed his hand on his chest, and dramatically sighed. “You’re quite a cruel lover, my dear. Tell me,” he slurred into your ear, his tiredness slowly getting to him. “Would you marry me if I weren’t drunk?” You spared him a glance and noticed his now half lidded eyes, usually a sign he was about to fall asleep on you and make it your problem.
You pretended to think for a while before responding. “Maybe.” Your response made him frown a little, which earned a chuckle from you. “Okay, okay, fine, I will. Let’s go home,” you added, not wanting this conversation to last until the effects of alcohol wore off. You quickly finished your drink and paid your tabs off before half dragging him out of the bar.
Back in the comfort of your shared home, you sat Jing Yuan down on the bed before changing him into more comfortable clothes– While silently cursing him for one, being drunk, and two, being uncooperative and trying to drag you down and fall asleep right then and there. He’d fallen asleep sitting up by the time you finished, so you laid him down on the bed and covered him with a blanket, chuckling to yourself when he reached over to your side of the bed, a few creases appearing on his forehead when he realised you weren’t beside him.
You headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower before you finally joined him in bed, where he happily pulled you closer the moment you laid down. You felt your eyelids growing heavier and heavier as you brushed your hands through Jing Yuan’s soft locks. 
Just before you fell asleep, you gave your words another thought. Were your words technically an affirmation to him that you’d marry him if he proposed? Okay… Now that you think about it, it was probably best to also leave that thought for tomorrow. Sure, the two of you had been talking about getting engaged, but it’s past midnight, and you just don’t have the energy to think.
Or, not.
“Yuan..?” You mumbled as your eyes fluttered open when you felt something on your hand. Once you adjusted your vision, you could see Jing Yuan holding your hand up to his lips, gently pressing his lips onto your ring finger. He was kissing the promise ring he’d gotten you a while ago, only leaning down to kiss you good morning when he realised you were awake. 
You sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as Jing Yuan pulled you into his lap, placing his head on your shoulder once again. He held your hand up for you to stare at the pretty band on your finger.
“You said you’d accept if I proposed when I weren’t drunk,” he said, stretching a little before he leaned over to grab something. He then held the box up beside your hand and opened it, revealing a pair of engagement rings.
“So, may I have your hand in marriage, dearest?” He let go of your hand and let it wrap around your waist, bringing your back closer to his chest.
This man was going to be the death of you, you swear. 
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by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.
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shouyuus · 2 days ago
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very 18+, vi-shaped, modern underground fighter!au tw: in which vi uses a vibrating strap d1ldo and also fucks ur throat
popular underground fighter vi! x reader in which vi "soft launches" your relationship with this photo posted on instagram with clear red nail marks down her back and just the caption "post fight ritual 💋" and it's obvious that her knuckles are still bruised, but someone else made those marks on her back and they're definitely not from any fight she's ever been in.
and it's not like she's a stranger to people thirsting over her posts -- she kinda knows she's hot. or at least, she's been told enough times to know it empirically, but it still stuns her a little when she catches you staring, or when she sees the way your pupils literally dilate in her presence; it's not something that she grew up hearing, always being told that she's too tomboy or that she's not feminine enough, even though her own family never cared, and they've always supported her no matter how she wanted to dress or what she wanted to do.
you, though. she doesn't know how she got so lucky with you.
she might call it a chance meeting, but later on, you'd admit that you'd had your eye on her for weeks, thought she was so, so pretty, even with all her black eyeliner and her choppily cut hair (she does it herself; oh, you could tell? why? what gave it away? the weirdly uneven buzz or the fact that she totally missed a patch at the back of her head?), and you'd put yourself squarely in the line of her sight and hoped (prayed, really) that she'd notice you.
and notice you she did.
wearing that pretty little sundress of yours, leaning up against the bar of her favorite lesbian haunt, the one she goes to nine times outta ten after her fights, the adrenaline's still high, eating through her veins, the tattoo of her pulse pressing against her ribcage.
she'd pushed off the far wall and caged you in against the dark wood of the bar, turning her charm up to eleven and hoping against hope that she wasn't just imagining things when she saw your gaze run up and down the length of her body (she wasn't).
"hey pretty. thought you might wanna take a closer look."
you'd grinned then, caught someplace between bashful and triumphant.
"but... it's so dark and so... loud," you say, letting your hand linger on her shoulder even as you put up the very convincing front of uncertainty, the blatant tease of your words the only thing cueing her off that you were picking up what she was putting down.
"yeah? then... wanna go somewhere quiet where you can... take a better look in peace?"
vi's apartment, despite all the winnings from her fights, was a modest place, a small studio in the heart of the city, though the floor the ceiling windows are really what caught your eye that first time she brought you over.
that, and the giant mirror that covered the length of an entire wall opposite the windows.
"so i can check my form," vi says when you ask, running a tall glass under the tap water, holding it out to you afterwards.
and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been expecting a hookup. and honestly, so had you. but somehow, the pair of you had just ended up curled on the couch, sitting face to face, sharing stories and laughing. the next you looked up, the pink of dawn was teasing across the far skyline and vi was frowning at the dying phone in her hand, her eyebrows hitched.
"holy shit... it's 6am."
you bury your face in the cushions of the couch, your hands still wrapped around a half-empty cup of spiked apple cider (a bottle of martinelli's at the back of her fridge, along with a half-empty thing of grey goose she'd found, tugging the cap out with her teeth), feeling the tiredness drag at your eyelids.
"oops... sorry," you grin sheepishly at her, "usually, when i keep people up all night, it's not like this."
vi laughs at your tired little innuendo, but her eyes soften when she catches you watching her. and for some stupid, unfathomable reason, she feels her cheeks heating up.
"yeah peaches. i figured. but... i don't mind being kept up like this."
your brows furrow even as a grin threatens your lips as she nudges you with her hand. you shift back, making room for her as she sits down in front of you, close enough for you to feel the heat rolling off her skin.
beyond the windows, a brilliant sunrise is peering out over the city, and the sharp, shard-drawn light of it pierces vi's studio as she reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her thumb and forefinger trailing the line of your cheek till she's coaxing your chin up towards her.
"peaches?" you ask, your breath a bit short.
"yeah," her eyes flicker towards the tiny little stud earrings you'd put in, truly miniscule peach-emojis that you'd picked to match the shade of your dress. and you laugh, the tiredness making the air around you both effervescent.
and that was the first of many nights you'd proceed to spend at vi's, though eventually, she does drag you forward to kiss you, her lips insistent against yours, with you pulling back to gasp -- "took you long enough --" against her only for her to sink her teeth into the bared skin of your neck, letting her fingers curl around the delicate pulse-point nestled there as she says --
"they say good things come to those who wait."
neither of you can truly pinpoint the moment where this... thing became something more. something that neither of you had the words or will to deny any longer.
it might've come up the first time vi pressed three fingers into your sopping cunt, her eyes fixed on the way your expression goes slack, how your hips kicked up at every curl of her expert fingers. or perhaps the first time you'd pushed her back and kissed a line down her front, lavished her body with your lips, teasing and nipping at her tits before making your slow, arduous way down to her clenching cunt, licking up the wet slit before latching your mouth around her clit and sucking hard enough for her eyes to roll out of her eye-sockets.
or maybe the first time she'd pulled out her bright pink strap, the base equipped with a vibrating function and an opposing dildo that hooked into vi's pussy as she rucked her hips into yours, fucking into you so hard that tears had creased in your lashes after she was done with you.
"fuck peaches -- you just look so good cumming on my cock, don't you?"
and that's all it takes these days, a smirk, a slap on the ass, and her voice saying peaches for you to feel your body clench over nothing, for your stomach to curl with heat, even if she's just coming over to press a kiss to your cheek or murmur against your skin, asking how your day went, though sometimes, you'd get shy and your voice would get a bit too quiet.
"c'mon, speak up, doll. and look at me when i'm talking to you, yeah?"
her fingers squeezing your jaw, just tight enough to make you gasp.
and no one questions it; bc why would they? her coach is ecstatic -- not like vi's ever been an unfocused fighter, but these days, she's in such tip-top form that he's not got much feedback for her after her long training sessions.
"whoever she is," vander says, grinning even as vi flushes and sighs (she knows it's useless to lie, vander's known her for way, way too long), "she's good for you."
he presses a hand to her shoulder, shaking her slightly, "and my advice? when you find a girl like that -- you grab on with both hands and you don't let go."
so that's what she does, and what she's still doing now. it's been months -- almost a full year since you've made it all "official", though neither of you have posted much about it online (her fans have been speculating for a while though, specially the hardcore ones, the ones who have been with her long enough to know her, to spot how she scans the crowd before and after every right, how her smile's just a bit different these days, how there seems to be one particular girl she's always winking at, always hidden in the shadows but she's always swiveling around the first thing after a fight, win or lose).
"f-fuck -- that's a good girl --" vi groans, her hips jerking against yours as she fucks you through your third orgasm of the night (she'd wone her fight that night -- as she does most nights -- and you'd come over to celebrate), your nails biting into the skin of her back, dragging down the expansive tattoo there.
she feels the burn in her own thighs, her arms flexing, the veins popping blue as she drags you down the length of the bed by your hips, fucking into you, her eyes trained on the sticky white ring at the base of her pink strap, the sight in and of itself enough to send her over the edge.
"c'mere -- open your mouth, peaches," she says, guiding you towards her even as she pulls out of you, a thick string of cum slicking off the head of her strap as she inches up the bed to position herself over your chest and shoulders.
you let your jaw fall slack, moaning thick as she presses the tip of her strap to your tongue. you blink up at her, lashes fluttering as she sinks her fingers into your hair, hissing out a long breath as you swallow around her length.
"sweet fuck that's hot..."
she pulls you over her cock in shallow thrusts, her breath growing quick as she watches the way you eagerly clean your own cum off of her with your tongue, the completely fucked out, blissed out look in your eyes as you look up at her, so utterly besotted and at her mercy.
her feels the coils twist in her gut seconds before she shoves you down over her, the combined sound of your gagging and the pinpoint vibrations of the dildo sending her right over the edge.
"shit, shit -- shit oh -- fuck... mm..."
her fingers fist in your hair as she jerks around the dildo end of the strap, tugging out of your mouth with a lazy, lopsided smile.
"such a good girl for me, hm?" she says, tugging you up for an open-mouthed kiss. you mewl against her lips, so soft, absolutely melting into her arms as she shifts the both of you into the center of the bed.
it's not till she goes to shower later, with you sound asleep in her mussed up blankets, that she sees the marks -- red and raised on her back, scratched over her tattoo. a soft smile lifts her lips as she stares at her own reflection in the mirror, her neck twisting over her shoulder to get a good look.
and before she knows it, she's grabbing her phone and turning around to snap a pic, with the full intent of keeping it just to show you in the morning but... well, she thinks as she stares down at the photo with a dopey sort of grin, her heart thudding dangerously close to her mouth.
maybe the best gift she could give you on your one-year anniversary is this -- telling the world that she's yours.
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seichv · 3 days ago
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˖ ࣪⭑ CERTIFIED FREAK !
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☆ sum: sunday, gallagher, aventurine, and sampo's kinks.
contents: (MDNI!!!), f!reader, bdsm, dacryphilia, exhibitionsim, orgasm denial, slight degradation, praise, p in v, fingering, creampie, squirting, daddy kink (gallagher) sampo is subby and whiny, choking, just... freak shit hehe ;)
note: writing slump: 0 ellie: 1 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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SUNDAY - BDSM
yeah, he can indeed fool someone with those angelic looks, can’t he? he can easily deceive with them. giving you the impression that you could get away with just about anything under his watch, huh? you were simply wrong. little did you know the things he was capable of.
who would’ve thought you’d find yourself tied up, bound, hands clasped together by ropes, ankles tied to the ends of the bed, with sunday looming over you like a tantalizing, impending, dooming shadow, his sharp gaze like daggers, like frosty ice, boring into you, boring deep. 
“should i have brought a gag along with me too, darling?” he teases, inching his face closer and closer to you as your pussy pulsates with a brutal need, drenched in your arousal. he can practically smell it on you. smell your surrender, your submission. 
and oh, how beautiful the sight of your naked form is… trembling, goosebumps tickling your skin. it’s purely art to him. a masterpiece. and it's all for him and him only.
you vigorously shake your head in response, watching him slowly stroke his cock as he aligned it just barely at your weeping entrance, and you impetuously rut your hips up, desiring friction, attention, any sort of contact, as you writhed in agonizing desperation, deprivation. "n-no, please… please, fuck me…”
he hums at the sound of your frail voice, a smile spreading along his face. "such a pretty mouth uttering such filthy words… hm,”
and before you can say anything else, you suck in a deep gasp, the intrusion of his length taking you out in one go. he buries himself to the hilt in one thrust, and slowly, tormentingly begins rolling his hips, watching your expression like a hawk the entire time. he can’t help but hiss, your spongey, melting walls encasing him, sheer blankets of your slippery slick smearing along his cock. this couldn’t be mere pleasure anymore, this was euphoria.
and he’s already lost his sanity,
“o-oh, yes, yes,” you gasp, the thump of your heart skyrocketing in speed, as his pelvis starts smacking into yours faster… and harder… the woody material of the bed frame beneath you creaking, and ramming into the walls. you simply can’t understand how he can possibly feel so good. reaching places inside you you never knew you could feel, as if he were attempting to merge the two you into one.
"i want you to tell me,” sunday whispers breathily, glacially, almost like an eerie rustle of wind, like a whoosh of arctic air blowing right through every inch of your weakened, restrained body. he reaches out, takes your jaw in his slender hand, his penetrating stare not moving an inch from your beady eyes. “how good does it feel, darling?”
your vocal cords are giving up on you, being pulled at with every labored mewl and sob running off from your quivering lips. you can barely form a response, a creeping warmth scratching at your skull, making you feel dumbified. “s-so good! c-can’t… last long…”
and neither can sunday, not with how pretty you look, not with how the sweet, harmonic melody of your sounds makes the ache in his cock escalate overwhelmingly. all the sensations are getting sharper, more vivid, his pulse syncing with his rapid panting.
"cum with me,” he permitted, his tone close to urgent, almost like a plead. “let go for me. together.”
and it all happens quick. sunday grabs onto your waist, tightly as if for leverage or grounding, his eyes going wide as he’s met with his climax, his cock twitching inside your cunt before dumping his load inside, strained groans breaking out his throat as you gush all over him simultaneously.
yeah, he’s addicted. addicted to basking in the blissful pleasure of your body, basking in it with you.
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GALLAGHER - EXHIBITIONISM
oh, the things you do to him.
he’s on a shift. but you, being the damn minx that you are, decided to prance on into the drink lounge with your pretty ass, giving him that look, seductively licking the rim of sugar that coated the top of your glass, while looking him dead in the eye.
you little tease,
would it be shocking for you to end up pressed up on the wall in the employee room, that gratuitously short skirt (that you very much wore on purpose) hiked up around your waist, with his thick cock drilling into you? he shouldn’t even be indulging in this, since you’re such a brat. you shouldn’t be getting what you wanted. but he can’t fucking resist, not when you play with him like that.
"showing up to the lounge, teasin’ me like a little slut, huh? while i’m working?” he snarls, his deep, gruff voice snaking up from behind you and right into your ear, making your knees give out. gallagher peers down, before lightly pushing at your ankle with his boot, urging you to spread those pretty little legs wider for him, his hands grabbing at your bubble ass, fondling and spreading the globe-y flesh. he wants a nicer view of that pussy swallowing him whole.
and god, it’s like a fucking glove. a sleeve,
your pussy is crying for him, hugging him, holding on like you can’t bear the thought of letting him go. you’re coating him in that creamy, syrupy slick, and every stroke has the static in your mind playing more and more frenzied. and he’s just so big, that thick head of his cock bullying your cervix with every sloppy, rough smack of his hips against that ass… fuck.
"hngh— n-needed you… so bad…” you’d whimper, choking on every whiny noise that you try to suppress, as you’re still trying to keep in mind that you are indeed in public. not that you’d admit that it turns you on more. you can’t help yourself. not when you’ve got him on your mind all day, his musky scent that engulfs your senses in flames, his perfect body… those muscles that you’re always ogling at.
oh, and speaking of muscles— your eyes suddenly roll right back into your skull the moment his beefy, rock-hard bicep curls around your throat, manhandling you in a chokehold, pulling your head back and making you arch against him, his dazy gaze right up in your fucked-out face, and he chortles. 
"yeah, didn’t you? can’t go a little while without some dick, huh?” gallagher practically growls, his teeth gritting hard with his jaw taught and set in a firm clench. if anyone could get a glance of his expression right now, they’d think he fucking hates your guts, like he’s fuming. with the way his sleeves are pushed up his arms, the veins in his forearm are visible, throbbing and bulging just like the veins of his cock inside you, the veins that your pussy can map out perfectly,
"w-with no haah— panties underneath this fucking shit,” gallagher groans, before his free hand lands a sharp smack to your ass, leaving behind a delicious sting. he’s not even surprised that you like that shit. like the naughty, cock-hungry whore you were. 
“daddyyy…” you whine, your tongue lolling out dumbly as you went limp, every part of you going numb except your pussy, throbbing and aching harder and harder the more he plowed into you with ruining force, as if he was trying to make you crumble apart entirely.
”gonna cum for daddy, huh?” gallagher huffs, his tone of voice nearly mocking. “yeah… how ‘bout you shut the fuck up and take it? k-keep milking my shit dry f’me… f-fuck.’
and that’s when it hits, your orgasm. it’s like a freight train, like a harsh blow, knocking you out in a blink of an eye. there was no way you could hold it anymore, not with the authority in his voice combined with his unmatched fervor and strength—
it’s splattering, your juices squirting out your pussy like a fountain, your mouth agape as your nails claw at his arm that stayed put around your throat. gallagher groans out loud at the sight, his own eyes rolling back as a rushed, ‘fuck, fuck,’ rasps out his strained throat. thick, hot streams of his seed plugs your wet heat up to the very brim, and he stays there, panting hard with you pressed against him.
"f-fuck, sweetheart. made a goddamn mess—"
"gallagher?! whaddya’ doin’ in there, man? you disappear on me, or what?” aaand there’s siobhan… fuck.
you can only glance back at gallagher with a cheeky little giggle. hehe… whoops.
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AVENTURINE - DACRYPHILIA
“don't you take those eyes off of me.” aventurine coos, his gaze flickering back and forth from your pussy, then back towards your face. he’s got you prettily sprawled out on the bed, two of his slender fingers pistoning inside your drooling cunt, curling at just the right angle, reaching nice and deep. his vigor is just relentless, you’re desperately trying to clamp your legs together, your face shying away as your eyes squint and your eyebrows curl inward, a squeal escaping from your throat.
“oh, i don’t think so,” aventurine grunts, his free hand roughly spreading your legs back open, his forearm shoving against the back of your thighs so that they stay pushed back. “you are not running from me, darling. take it like a good girl, won't you?” he purrs, and you gasp, dragging out a hoarse whine as he picks up the pace, the wet sloshes that your cunt produces getting progressively louder. even flecks of your juices were flying out with every thrust of his hand at this point, and fuck, was it lewd…
“gonna cum—!” you’d croak out, warm tears flooding your vision and pooling up along the waterline of your eyes as you’re unable to sit still, creaks and rustling ringing out from the bed as you desperately attempt to thrash around, despite aventurine holding you in place. that familiar tingle in your lower tummy was brewing up, and quick.
and oh, were those tears he saw?
the ache and the strain in his pants only hardens at the sight, serving to drive him even crazier. he can’t help it. you look so helpless, so vulnerable, yet so needy, so desperate. and it’s all because of him…  fuck. makes him wanna devour you whole, like he’s lost every train of thought, every bit of composure…
“my, oh my,” he snickers, shaking his head incredulously as he keeps his gaze glued to you, his violet orbs bordering a feral look to them. he loves seeing those crystal streams trickling down those cheeks that are prominently coated in a deep, rosy flush of color. you look like a doll.
his doll,
and he can tell when his doll is close. that adorable look on your face gives it away, eyes wide, gazing up at him, your mouth dangling open, hands grasping at the sheets for dear life. “gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone low, almost taunting, so velvety, so smooth, it's practically spine-chilling, and that alone makes your walls clench around his digits once more. as if you hadn’t done that enough already.
"y-yes, gonna— fuck!” you’re cut off as aventurine’s thumb meets your clit, rubbing the swollen nub with skilled precision, causing your pleasure to soar up to insanely imposing heights. its as if he’s trying to coax your pussy into orgasm, trying to lure you into cumming. and fuck, is he doing a good job at it. a good job is an understatement. his hands… it’s like they could cast a motherfucking spell on your pussy…
“cum, pretty. make a mess all over my fingers. go on,” he urges, the smirk on his face flashing brighter as one last whimper rips out from your throat, until you’re squirting all over his hand, and his mouth drops open, his pupils blowing and darkening.
"oh, yess,” he groans, eager to milk every last drop out of your pretty pussy, continuing to finger fuck you through your high, elongating it, even as you’re a shaking mess, trying to pry away from him. 
“mhmm, would you look at that,” he huskily purrs, sliding his creamy, sticky fingers out your pussy with a squelch, licking them clean with a smirk, before your pussy throbs at the contact of his hand meeting it in a mean slap, spanking your pussy and sending a jolt through your body. 
"made my pretty girl cry from both her eyes, and her pussy, hm? poor thing…”
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SAMPO - ORGASM DENIAL
sampo is a mouthy one, there’s no doubt about that. roguish, cocky, cheeky. you can't help but feel this itching urge to shut him up. to put him in his place.
hence why you’ve got him in between your legs, his back to your chest, one of your hands pumping his cock while the other is over his mouth, muffling his needy moans.
he’s bucking his hips up as you stroke his cock, fucking up into your hand, his eyes rolled back,
”ohh, baby,” you coo with a sly grin, your warm breath fanning against the shell of his ear before you give it a small nibble. “don’t tell me you wanna cum already, hm? its too early for that, silly boy.”
you lift your hand off of his mouth, only to gently wrap it around his throat, and he lets out a hoarse whimper, shaking his head. “n-no… w-won't cum yet… won’t cum…” he whines, and it practically pains him to say that, as he’s just dying to cum, his angry tip flushed bright red, his balls heavy and aching, desperate for release.
"good boy. you just sit still and take it.” you giggle, your words alone making him even needier by tenfold, his legs shaking, his hands grasping at your legs like lifelines. 
you’re pumping harder now, schlick after schlick, sticky and creamy, his arousal making a mess out of your hand.
he throws his head back against your shoulder with a loud moan, his hips bucking more frantically before you land a soft spank to his balls, earning a sound from his throat that almost sounded close to a shriek. 
“didn’t i just tell you to sit still?” you resume your quick, rough stroking as sampo has to hold back from literally throwing himself around, his consciousness practically out the window at this point. “you were doing so good f’me, sampo. what happened? don’t you wanna cum?”
"yes!” he’s quick to respond, burying his face in your neck as he sniffles, shaking hard like a leaf. “y-yes, please… ‘m sorry, so sorry… w-wanna cum so bad—!” he whines, hearing that buzzing begin to ring in his ears, his vision a bright white light. his limits are being pushed and pushed and pushed, about to burst like a balloon. its too much for him.
"p-please… c-can i cum for you? n-need to cum for you…” he whimpers, lifting his face to look into your eyes with a pleading, almost teary gaze. his cock is solid, and he needs this release so bad it’s close to paining him. “s-so much… h-have so much for you…”
"mm, wanna make a mess all over me, don’t you? all for me,” you giggle, pumping especially harder at the tip, making the twitch in his thighs quicken.
"go on, then. cum for me. let me see how bad you need to,” pfft. you didn’t need to tell him twice. like jets, his cum splurts out, shooting straight up and all over his hand as he’s whimpering, and whimpering fucking loud. his jaw falls slack, fat beads of sweat running down his temples, his eyes going straight back into his head yet again as he thrashes back against you. you gasp, chuckling softly as you keep your gaze glued to his twitching cock, leaning in to gently pepper kisses along his neck, making him shiver harder. 
”lookkk at that, baby,” you purr, your hand that was around his throat sliding up to brush his hair away from his face. “there you go, easy, baby,” you whisper, and he chuckles breathily, whimpering small little, ‘thank you’s’ before his eyes flicker back open and fall upon your tongue licking his cum off your hand.
yeah. that’ll do it for him. now he’s definitely gonna slurp your pussy off the bone.
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whokilledsamara · 2 days ago
Note
Hello! I don’t usually make requests but i have one could u pretty please if u have time? 🥺
Anyways the request would be like homocipher boys (especially my bbg Mr Crawling) pussy drunk. Pls.
PUSSY DRUNK
a very short fic for a few of the Homicipher boys. {Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood}. Homicipher x afab!reader.
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warnings! : each are different so a bit of violence, neediness, switch!reader, smut, porn, PORN NO PLOT!!! almost all of them are cunnilingus
{an: if you meant a fic with all of them in a gangbang sense, you can send in another request}
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MR. CRAWLING
"Not now Mr. Crawling, im busy." you say softly, gently petting his head as he tugs at your skirt. "Please..", he practically begs, his lips turned into a pout. he was always so desperate to please you, stopping at nothing as long as it made you happy. his eager face made it so hard to resist, and with a sigh, you gently part your legs before continuing to use your hands with what you were doing. almost as soon as you do so, his face is shoved as far as it can go, a whine leaving his lips as he has to pull away to remove your underwear. a giggle escapes you while you watch.
...
"mngh.. fuck, please.." the words slipped so effortlessly from your lips, Mr. Crawling's head so deep between those legs of yours that you couldnt think straight. your hand was fisted in his hair, tugging often. whines left him almost constantly, his hands holding up your thighs on his shoulders and off the chair. "Me want, More" he states softly, his voice muffled as he stares up at you, the lower half of his face still stuffed between your thighs. as you nod softly, he hums and shoves two of his long and slender fingers inside of you, effortlessly curling them upwards towards your g-spot. "a-ah..!" your voice hits a high peak at the sudden intrusion, legs trembling as yet another orgasm rips through you, despite how many you had previously. as overstimulated as you were, the man between your legs gives a few more licks to your clit, slowly pulling away. as he sits up, Mr. Crawling stares up at you with a cheeky grin, his chin covered in your juices. "Good." ..... "Big, Good."
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MR. SCARLETELLA
as usual, he was feeling needy. every since you pretty much marked him as your "slave", he has been near you at all times, getting upset whenever you interact with others instead of him. this time in particular though, you watched tears fall from his eyes as he stared up at you with a desperate expression. despite the cold look on your face, and the amount of times you rejected him, he still pleads. "Please." he whines, his hands trembling against your thighs. "Please what..? not this again." you ask, glaring down at him. his hands grab at your raincoat, face a pleading mess. "Need, You." he begs. you think for a second, a long exasperated sigh leaving your lips before you finally do what he always dreamed of. you roll your eyes, head tilting to a nod. that was all the conformation he needed.
hours had gone by, your unfortunate yet aching cunt so desperately clenched around his tongue, his hands clawing at your thighs. his skilled tongue circled your clit an uncanny amount of times, his pace never slowing. "A-ah wait.. wait i cant.. fuccckk.." another orgasm ripped through you and then, only then, did his pace falter. "You, Like?" he asked, pulling his face up from your legs with an uncanny glare. you nod many times, his smile only growing wider. his lips lean in and press against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. as much as you denied your feelings for the man, you couldn't think of anything but how good he felt and tasted. with a thoughtful groan, you wiggle your finger at him, signaling for him to stand. immediately he obeys, face flushed and juices dripping down his chin. your eyes are locked on his for a second before you speak in a demanding tone.
"Take off your pants."
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MR. SILVAIR
he was NEVER needy. so why was today different? one of the other residents had managed to piss him off so much that he couldn't think straight. his usually calm demeanor shifted completely dark, not even a hint of his usual smile on his face. even Mr. Chopped seemed worried, asking softly if he was okay. Mr. Silvair ignored him, his gaze fixated on your eyes. he nods his head to his "research room", silently instructing you to go. he follows closely behind you, the heavy door slamming shut and locking you both in the room.
...
a huff leaves his lips as his hands angrily lift you up and slam you on his examination table, ass up for him, with little to no way for you to escape. "W-what are you doing? Whats wrong?.. Mr. Silvair-!" you ask hurriedly, hands scrambling to find something to grab. he ignores your pleas and hikes up your raincoat, forcing off your panties with one quick motion. you couldn't see him as you tried to look behind you, but you felt him sink to his knees."H-hey- ah..!-" your words are cut off with a moan as his long, snakelike tongue slips between your folds. Mr. Silvair's strong hands keep you spread with ease, giving him full access as he greedily eats your pussy like its the last meal on earth. "Stop Squirming." his usually calm voice turns dark, his fingers digging a touch deeper into your hips as he keeps you held up for him. as hard as you can, you attempt to keep your hips still. his tongue reaches as deep as it can reach, making you harshly bite your lip and see stars, juices running down his face as you finally orgasm. "A-ah right there--fuck! please.." your begs go unnoticed as he releases you and stands, walking out of the room without another glance. seemingly, this little outburst would hold him down for a while.
be glad it was only his tongue this time.
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MR. GAP
a while after you got used to your residency at the complex, you learned your lesson about walking near the gaps. the man who always seemed to appear at the worst moments, would mainly only mess with you. usually, it would only be a small poke as your ankle as you walked by, a tug at your hair when you had your back turned, or small scares he would pull off. eventually you learned to ignore it, or altogether stay away from the walls, but unfortunately for you, today was a day you slipped up. as careless as it seemed, you were walking on your own, tiredness taking over your expression. the day was hectic, having to deal with more than one entity at a time.
a sudden yelp escapes your throat as you are yanked by your arm into a small opening in the wall. your back ends up pressed against the nearest wall, Mr. Gap's face level with yours with that sick, uncanny expression he always has. you huff and use your hand to push at his face, the ever so sassy man rolling his eyes and grabbing your wrist. "You're No, Fun." he grumbles, hands fumbling with your shorts. "The fuck are you doing?" you mutter as a hushed yell, eyes glaring at his. the grin on his face grows wider as he shoves off your pants, before suddenly dissolving into nothing. your eyes dart around, confusion evident in your expression until a sudden whine leaves your lips at an unknown feeling hits your core. looking down, you find Mr. Gap nose deep in between your legs, eyes locked on yours as he smirks into you. your hand shoots down to grab his hair, attempting to pull him away as embarrassment fills your expression. though unluckily for you, or luckily depending on how you take it,, he doesn't move. instead, he groans into your hand, his hands tighten on your thighs as he pushes his face deeper, licking and sucking anything he can manage.
after many failed orgasms, and many tears from his constant edging, finally after everything he lets you cum, sucking hard enough on your clit to have a loud moan escape you, thighs clenching around his head.
though something tells you he isnt done.
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MR. HOOD
as mono tuned as the man was, and as little as expressive as he was, he couldn't help his built up tension. while no, he didn't understand the concept of love, or at-least he wouldn't admit it- he knew and felt the need for touch. he often would allow you inside of his coat, usually just chilling in there or whatever you called it- but you never saw it as anything more than companionship. or so he figured. the moment he felt you experiment by placing your hand just above his crotch, his views changed.
with little to no effort, Mr. Hood plucked you out of his coat, setting you gently on the nearest table. he stared at you for a second, chest heavy. he could definitely sense your confusion- but as he kept his gaze on you, he reached out to grab your leg, his oddly feeling hand sat calmly on the inside of your thigh. "May, Touch?" Mr. Hood asked, an almost worried tone in his words. quicker than he could get his words out, you were nodding. his body stilled for a second, almost as if he was debating his life choices, but ultimately decided to continue. gentle fingers reach under your raincoat, tugging down your panties with ease. and while he would never admit it, he quite greatly enjoyed the small sounds you made when his fingers traced your lips. he hesitates for a second, before pushing a single ghostly finger inside. it was oddly cold, but felt so good inside of you as he worked his way in. a long moan leaves you, your hands reaching out to grab his arms. one of his tentacles shoots out, replacing his finger that instead opted for your clit, rubbing in tight, hard circles. "Oh fuck.." you breathe out, legs trembling at your embarrassingly close orgasm. "I-im gonna c- mmngh!!" a hushed scream leave you as the tentacle curls, thrusting hard at your G-spot. it sends you over the edge, your juices flowing down your thighs and around the appendage. with a sigh, he pulls out, seemingly pleased.
"Turn Around."
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{ made by @whokilledsamara }
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nochepsicodelica · 2 days ago
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NSFW
Just some thoughts of you and Toji sharing a hotel room with Shiu when you go on a trip. There are two beds, you and Toji share one, and Shiu gets the other one to his mopey self, because his wife won't be there until the next day. He gets to warm the bed up on his own and he hates every minute of it, because one: he's third wheeling you and Toji, and two: you and Toji act as if he's not there when it's time to go to sleep.
"Why aren't you sleeping, pretty girl? Do I need to go down there and put you to sleep or what?" Toji murmurs.
You giggle, quietly. "Maybe. I do get pretty tired after you make me cum."
"Yeah, you do," he says, proudly. "You wet, right now, mama?" Toji asks, already unknotting the drawstrings of your shorts.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" You say, your voice too soft for what you're inviting him to do. Still, Toji bites and leans in to kiss you as his hand slides down the front of your shorts and beneath your panties. His hand meets your pelvis and continues its downward path, until his fingertips reach the messiness of your slick-ridden cunt. He teases you with barely there flicks of his fingers to your clit.
Shiu's eyes widen the slightest bit, before his eyebrows furrow. He swears he just heard a moan coming from the bundle of blankets on the right side of the room.
"Stop touching each other," he says, irritation heavy in his tone. "Jesus," he grumbles. The one time he didn't bring his headphones, the one time his wife isn't there to let him do the same things to her, that Toji is doing to you. And you both just continue to ignore him.
Your hand comes down to palm at the prominent bulge in Toji's boxers. You can feel his clothed cock twitching in your hand after every gentle squeeze you offer to the thick length.
"Fuck, don't tease me like that, doll. Touch it." His body jerks slightly when you slide your hand down his boxers and wrap it around his sticky length. "Shit, your hands are freezing," he whispers, hissing at the coldness that meets his warm skin.
"You want me to keep going or not?" You ask, teasingly, not stopping the movement of your hand as you wait for him to respond.
"Nah, nah, you're getting warmer. Keep going."
You both think you're doing so well at muffling each other's sounds of pleasure with deep kisses, but the sounds of heavier breathing and constantly rustling sheets in the otherwise steady room, are a dead giveaway to your indecent acts. Shiu has to choose between suffering by being uncomfortably hot with the blanket bundled around his head to shut out the sounds, or being comfortable and suffering with the clear sounds of your sexual antics.
"Shh," Toji hushes, when you let out a little whimper. "Just keep kissing me."
Despite how intense the sensations are, you both keep going. Toji's fingers don't stop rubbing your clit, and your hand doesn't stop gliding up and down his cock. You're both treating the act of sharing a bed as you usually do when you're alone, despite the poor man trying to sleep one bed over.
It takes hearing an uncontained high pitched gasp for Shiu to kick off his blanket and jump out of bed with a grumble. He grabs his car keys off the table and puts on his slippers, directing himself towards the door. "Going to the store. You two better be done by the time I come back."
The second the heavy door shuts, clothes are being pulled at through impatient, all consuming kisses. It gets to the point where you actually have to slow down to get them off, because you aren't making any progress, but once it's all discarded of, absolutely no time is wasted. Your legs find refuge hooked over Toji's shoulders, and his hands home to your hips and your waist. You both freely make as much noise as you want as you indulge in each other like you really are home alone. Minutes unknowingly turned into an hour and after four intense orgasms, you've tired each other out. Toji gets out of bed to grab a towel to clean you and himself up, and once the cleanup process is done, both of you fall asleep, soundly.
Shiu comes back half an hour after you both fell asleep. He's empty handed, looking a little more disheveled than when he left the room, because "going to the store" was code for sitting in his car and having phone sex with his wife. He tip toes further into the room to see if you and Toji are sleeping, and when he sees the way Toji is spooning you with his face pressed to the nape of your neck, and the way your hand rests on the arm he has slinged around your waist, he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle.
"Rabbits."
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luvyeni · 3 days ago
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( drabble ) intoxicated ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 방찬 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ chan comes home drunk with only one thing on his mindヾ
boyfriend!chan・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ sex under the influence, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy talk wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
request. can you make one of Bangchan? please, he is drunk and horny after a party and he is obsessed with getting her pregnant ?
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i loved writing this idk why i hope you like it <3
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looking at the clock it was way past midnight when you heard the door open. “baby!” you heard your boyfriends slurred voice. “baby where are you!” you shook your head — shrieking when he came bursting through the door. “baby!” he yelled out. “hi baby!” you laughed at how drunk he was. “hi chan.”
“hi baby.” he smiled, face flushed as he stumbled over his own feet. “not that drunk i swear.” he said, but his actions said otherwise. “i missed you so much.” he kicked his shoes off; unbuckling his pants. “wished you would’ve came out tonight.” taking his shirt off, tossing it. “it was fun.” he clumsily climbed into bed, falling flat on top of you. “bang christopher chan!” you yelled, slapping his bare back. “get off you are heavy.”
“why.” he whined , wrapping his arms around you. “why are you being so mean?” his face pressed against your stomach. “i love you so much and you’re being so mean.” his eyes closed, you shook your head, thinking he was going to fall asleep. “chan let’s lay down now.” you tapped his cheek. “come on baby.”
it was silent; you thought he had actually fallen asleep — that was until you felt his hands lifting up your shirt. “channie what are you doing?” he hummed. “just wanna feel my girl.” he rubbed all along your waist. “you smell nice.” you chuckled. “it’s your body wash.” you ran your fingers through his hair. “i know, but im talking about your natural scent, smell so sweet.” he kissed your bare stomach. “ch-chan.” you warned.
“what?” he said softly, slurring his words. “let’s lay down.” you said, trying to get him to sleep, even though he was slowly turning you on. “o-okay.” he said, before sitting up, quickly pulling you down, your head hitting the pillow. “let’s lay down.” he kissed your neck. “ch-chan you’re intoxicated, we’re not having sex tonight.” he whined against your ear. “you’re not taking advantage of me , i know you feel how much i want you right now.” he took your hand, running it down his abs, down past his waist. “see.” he groaned, placing it on his cock.
“ye-yeah but you’re still not in your right mind.” you didn’t want to egg him on, but he wasn’t having it. “im well in my right mind to know how much i want to put a baby right here.” he pointed to your stomach. “wanna fuck you so full that it has no choice but to stick.” the air was too thick, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. “let me finally put a baby in you.” his hand working into your panties. “chris.” you moaned. “see you’re so wet, you want this, you want to be fucked full of my babies.” he groaned. “let me do that.” his fingers slipped into your dripping cunt. “gonna get you pregnant tonight.”
chan was insatiable when he was sober, but it was nothing compared to when he was drunk. you were on your 4th orgasm, chan on his second; the clock beside you was almost at 2:30 am, but he didn’t plan on stopping — determined to have you swollen with his kid by the end of the night. “fu-fuck baby.” he groaned, his hips snapping against yours. “fuck i love this sweet pussy so much.” he groaned, his face flushed. “chan.” you moaned out. “so fucking tight , taking my fat cock like the good girl you are.”
he was pinning you to the bed as he plowed into you. the squelching noises from your previous orgasms filling up the room. “fuck you hear that baby -fuck- you pretty pussy is talking to me.” he huffed. “she wants to be bred so bad , she crying for my cock.” his necklace dangling in front of you. “you wanna cum for me?” you nodded dumbly, you were now intoxicated but not like alcohol, but his cock, you sobbed out. “so bad.”
“cum for me.” he whispered in your ear. “fuck chan!” you screamed out, you sweet juices spraying all over his abdomen. “ye-yes fuck baby.” he groaned. “fuck cum all over me.” he continued you to fuck you. “that’s it -fuck- fuck me im gonna cum again.” he moaned, cock twitching as his filled you up for the third time that night. “fuck im gonna breed you , fill you with my seed, give you a pretty baby.” he groaned. “fuck i love you so much.”
feeling his warm cum pouring inside you, he sighed falling against you, your bodies sticking together. “chan , channie get up we have to clean ourselves.” you could feel his heart beating as he softly snored on top of you. you ran your fingers through his sweaty wet hair. “told you , you were tired.” you kissed the top of his head. “you big goof, you know you can’t hold your alcohol.” he wrapped his arms around you , holding you close. “sleep now.” you chuckled. “fine.” you said, finally drifting off to sleep.
almost a week later the two of you were standing over the sink in your bathroom , a positive pregnancy test sitting right in front of you.
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©️LUVYENI
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lqvesoph · 1 day ago
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My Sweetheart || LN4
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lando norris x dcc!reader
summary: you are part of the dcc’s, who perform at the formula 1 austin grand prix, what a coincidence that your secret boyfriend is a racing driver competing in said event
a/n: I promised y’all this like two weeks ago i’m sorry it took so long🫠
masterlist
“Girls, you ready?”, your group leader called, receiving thumbs up from all of you.
You put on your nicest smile and followed the other girls out on track, immediately spotting Lando next to the other drivers. He sent you a cheeky wink when your eyes met as you were dancing towards your designated spot to start ‘Thunderstruck’.
Here was the thing, Lando had never watched you perform. Of course in the comfort of your living room, but that was something different, never when you were fully dressed in your uniform with your hair and make up done and next to the other girls.
And you truly hadn’t thought that I’d be so difficult to focus on your steps and not the way his eyes followed your every move, sometimes dipping down to your chest.
Once you were done with the kickline, a roaring applause sounded off the track.
You exchanged proud smiles with the other girls, catching your breath while waving with your poms.
Your eyes darted back to Lando, who had his arms crossed in front of his chest, making his biceps pop, and boyish smirk on his lips.
You thought back to the conversation Lando and you had last night.
“How about after the parade, I’ll just kiss you?”, Lando proposed, laying down behind you. You looked back at him to see a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Paul would probably remove your arms from your body faster than you can accelerate”, you giggled, thinking about your bodyguard who took all of the girls‘ safety extremely serious.
"Also true”, Lando chuckled, secretly loving how safe you were when you were with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.
He pressed you closer to muffle his nose into your hair.
Still, your heart raced at the thought. Since meeting in Miami, coincidentally where he took his first race win, it had been an exciting, hidden part of your life. Both of our agreeing to keep it under wraps for a few months.
Now, almost five months later, you still haven’t told a lot of people. Only your families and Carlos knew, though you were almost sure Carlos was considered part of Lando‘s family as well.
You walked past the drivers and the second your eyes landed on Lando, a rush of adrenaline caused you to make an impulsive decision. “I’ll be back in a second”, you told Sophy before running over to your boyfriend, who was nudged by Carlos next to him. Lando’s head turned just when you came to a halt in front of him. “Good luck today!”, you spoke breathlessly and quickly stood on your tiptoes to lean forward to press a quick but lingering kiss to his lips.
Thanks to his ridiculously fast reflexes, Lando put one hand around your waist to pull you closer just when you wanted to pull back. The crowd erupted again, but for a different reason this time.
He smiled into the kiss before allowing you to retreat.
“Gee, thanks I feel honored”, he joked, making you roll your eyes. He chuckled, eyes sparkling. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You shrugged, biting back a smirk as you noticed the Dallas girls gaping from the sidelines. Your best friend jaw had practically hit the floor.
"Go, your girls are waiting on you”, he said and tapped your butt cheek twice, causing Paul to clear his throat next to the two of you.
Lando glanced over at your team’s bodyguard before pulling his hands back.
You tapped Paul’s arm to signal him, that it was okay and nodded over to the exit where the rest of the girls were standing.
“Next time give me a little warning, that would he nice”, Paul muttered as you walked back. “Sorry, that was pretty impulsive right there”, you chuckled.
“Okay, girl WHAT???”, Sophy called when you were in reach, grabbing your arm and shaking you.
With a smile, you glanced over your shoulder to where Lando was now the subject to subtle teasing from Carlos and shock from Oscar next to him. “We’ve been seeing each other. Met back in Miami, actually, it was right before I moved to Dallas to try out for DCC. My dad was invited to the race by Mclaren because of a sponsorship deal and took me with him“, you explain as you walked back to the paddock guest section.
"So he just asked for your number??“, Kleine butted in, buzzed with excitement. "Uhm, no actually. We met obviously at the race and it was his first ever win, so he went out to celebrate and uh-", you stopped for a second, thinking back to that rather wild night in Miami.
"Oh no girl!", Sophy could practically read your thoughts. You shoved your head into your poms as the other girls around you started realizing what your indication meant.
"So, anyway, I woke up with his phone number in my phone the next day"
and him naked next to you, but you left that part out.
"We‘ve been seeing each other since. Well, we mostly facetimed at the beginning, I told him I‘m moving to Dallas to try out for DCC. He immediately was incredibly supportive and uhm… actually spent his summer break in Dallas with me, so like basically all of August", you giggled.
"Wait!", Charly called, getting your attention. "Was he the guy in your car? Who picked you up from training?" You nodded with a slight smile. "Yeah, so you technically have met him before", you joked, causing the girls to laugh.
It sort of felt surreal to have that out in the open right now, and you were sure if you were to open any of your socials right now, they would explode with messages and new followers.
Back in the paddock, you changed into your navy blue training suits and watched the race with an intense focus, hands clasped as Lando carved his way through each lap.
He held steady, kept his line, and defended like he was born to win today. Watching him maneuver the car with the precision and confidence you’d seen a thousand times over on your home TV (or your phone, depending on where you were) was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once.
Finally, when he crossed the line in first, a flood of cheers echoed around you.
"Your man‘s great!", Kelli smiled next to you, causing a giggle to escape from your lips. "Thanks, Ma‘am!"
Lando had won. And this time, you were here to see it.
Beside you, Paul, the Cowboys’ assigned bodyguard, nudged you. “You’re clear to go to the podium,” he said, a faint smile under his otherwise serious expression.
With a breath of excitement, you nodded, feeling your pulse pick up as you followed Paul through the crowd, navigating your way to the podium. The fans cheered as you approached, and finally, you spotted Lando. He was celebrating with his team, arms thrown up in victory, a radiant smile on his face. When he saw you, he froze for a second before his face broke into a grin.
Ignoring the team and press around him, he ran over to you, grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you closer to him over the barrier.
He didn’t hesitate to press a kiss to your lips, wrapping you close despite the sea of cameras and fans catching every angle. "You did it, baby", you smiled, stroking over his sweaty cheek. "This one’s for you", he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, still breathless from the race.
You smiled, hands still tangled around his neck, feeling the world fade away for a moment. "Congratulations, champ!"
Another smile spread across Lando’s face and he pulled you back in for a gentle kiss.
📍Circuit of the Americas
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tagged: dccheerleaders, f1, landonorris, oscarpiastri
liked by: landonorris, dccheerleaders, sophylulaufer and 1.628.592 others
yn_yln: Thank you, Austin🧡
comments:
landonorris: MY sweetheart💙
yn_yln: 🥰
sophylulaufer: SURPRISE I GUESS???
avamarielahey: Seriously girl, we NEED to talk about this!!
sophylulaufer: I second that🤚🏻
annakatesundvold: I third that🤚🏻
reece_christinee: So happy for you my girl!!🥰
dccheerleaders:
carlossainz55: So happy, I don’t have to pretend I don’t know anymore
yn_yln: I actually only did it for you, Carlito🫶🏻
carlossainz55: See I knew why I liked you more
landonorris: Heyyy!!!
user1: Them using the heart color of the other, IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS
user2: Him spelling the ‘my’ in capital letters😭
user5: Whats so special about that??
user2: The dcc’s are called ‘America’s Sweethearts’, so he basically said she’s his
user3: The most unexpected crossover???
user4: Isn’t she totally way to young for him??
user6: That’s what I’ve been saying, like isn’t she 19?
user1: It’s their life so kindly stfu, and she’s 20
user7: How did that even happen????
load more comments…
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deathbxnny · 2 days ago
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hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!
Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader
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Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3
Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》VI
"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.
Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.
"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.
"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.
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》EKKO
He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.
It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.
"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.
"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.
The festival was going to be great, to say the least.
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》JINX
You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.
Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.
And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"
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archangeldyke-all · 3 days ago
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imagine Jinx survives and just pops up on readers's doorstep, and she's like, "...yay! I uhm..survived!" And sevika and reader are dumbfounded
ok lemme make up for that sad shit i wrote earlier today
also fuck it i'm gonna make it so isha's alive too don't ask me how
men and minors dni
nice as it is to live in a healing zaun, your new life comes with a few anxieties you never had to experience in the undercity.
the pressure of the entire city's infrastructure being overseen by just sevika is crushing. as much as the city is flourishing under her say-so, there are nights where you have hold her through her anxiety attacks.
there's the ever looming threat of an attempt on her life. she's made a lot of powerful rich enemies, and there have already been a few attempts.
and then there's just the grief. sometimes it paralyzes her, and you worry one day you won't be there to talk her out of the dark place she gets lost in.
so when you get home from the markets to the sounds of your wife sobbing in the living room, you picture the worst.
the eggs splatter to the kitchen floor as you drop your grocery bags to sprint through the house, dread coursing through your veins.
"sevika!? sevika, what's going on!?" you ask, horrified when you enter the living room. she's on her knees near the front door, her back shivering as she sobs. she's clutching something close to her chest and shuddering. "what is it!? sev, what's happening?!" you grab her shoulder and give her a tug, and your heart stops.
two matching heads of blue hair, one natural, one dyed, lift up from sevika's arms to look at you. "hey, sweetcheeks." jinx greets with a watery smile.
you collapse to your knees, sobbing and crawling forward to reach your family. "i-is this a dream?" you ask, grabbing isha's face in your hands. the girl smiles, in your grip and reaches up to grab your hands. sevika's arm wraps around your back.
"we... had to get away for a while. figure some things out. i'm sorry i didn't tell you-- i thought i'd have time to say goodbye during the war." jinx says. you reach one hand out to cup her face, desprately trying to soak up the sight of her.
her eyes are still pink, but the bags beneath them have lessened. her once shaved hair is now tickling her shoulders, and for the first time since you've known her, she's a little too big for the pants she's wearing.
and isha. isha's gold eyes shimmer just the same as they always have, and though she's taller and older, she's still got the same sweet, innocent smile she always had.
"this is real?" you ask, reaching out to tap sevika's arms.
"i don't know." she admits.
jinx chuckles. "always drama with these two, eh?" she asks. isha giggles and wipes up her snot with a nod.
missed you, ms. baby. she signs.
you pass out.
when you wake up, your heart sinks, and tears well up in your eyes.
a dream.
it was a fucking dream.
you should've known better. you wonder how many fucking years are gonna pass before you stop having these horrible, gut wrenching dreams.
"sweetcheeks? you awake? you hit your head pretty hard there-- can't have you dying right when we got reunited."
you gasp and snap up in bed, blinking owlishly at jinx. she chuckles and waves at you from her perch at the foot of the bed. something stirs beside you and you snap to your side, tears welling in your eyes when you find isha sleeping beside your pillow.
"it's real?" you ask. jinx giggles and nods, crawling forward slowly to wrap her arms around you. you sob in her arms and she laughs. "where the fuck is sevika?"
"would you believe me if i said she passed out too?" she asks. you pull away to gawk at her, and jinx sputters a laugh. "kidding! she's making up the guest room for us."
"not the fuckin' guest room anymore. you two are never leaving again, do you understand?" you ask, clutching jinx's face in your hands. she chuckles.
"alright."
"i'm not kidding jinx. you do that shit to me again, and i don't care if you're actually dead, i will raise you from the dead just to kick your fucking ass."
jinx cackles. "alright!"
"oh my god, i love you so fucking much." you sob, wrapping her back up in your arms. "i'll fucking kill you if you ever do that again i love you so much."
"alright, alright, janna, you're worse than sevika."
"she already gave you this talk?"
"when you were knocked out, yeah." she chuckles.
you huff and kiss her head. tears soaking her hair as you clutch her to your chest with one arm, the other reaching out to hold isha's ankle. "did you... sort all your shit out?" you ask.
jinx nods against you. "most of it. will you help me... stay on track?" she asks. you nod against her.
"there's nothing else i'd rather do in the world."
despite the fact that she's made up the guest room, none of you even attempt to pretend like the girls will be sleeping anywhere but in your arms tonight.
that's to say, the girls sleep. you and sevika stay wide awake, gawking down at them, memorizing their faces.
"they're really... here?" sevika whispers, tracing a finger down the bridge of isha's nose. the girl snorts in her sleep. you chuckle.
"yeah." you say, tears in your eyes. "they're here."
"i don't think i'm gonna ever stop crying." sevika says.
you giggle. "yeah, me neither."
"i love you so much." she whispers.
"janna, sevika. i love you too."
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed
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entitled-fangirl · 17 hours ago
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I feel like Cregan and his wife do a TON of simple intimacies. Wolfmans love language is all of them. He is stupidly whipped for his lovely and EVERYONE knows. Wife taking a bath? Cregan is in the bath with her just because he loves the intimacy of it (even if it doesn’t turn into spicy time which it definitely has) Wife getting undressed for the day? Cregan is on his knees undoing her boots and will help with her dress strings just because he loves to touch her. Mention something she likes at the market? It’s wrapped in a pretty bow that night on her dresser. Cregan feels his lovely getting insecure? Not on his watch! That man worships the ground his wife walks on and you cannot say otherwise.
PREACH!!! 🗣️
.......................................................
Cregan finished the last letter, happy to throw his quill on the desk and be done with his work. His eyes trailed over to his wife.
He had talked her into bathing in his solar so the two could spend time together, even if completing different tasks. It was not the first time they had done so, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 
He stood up and stretched, carefully following along with the story she was telling, her head leaned back against the copper rim of the tub and her eyes closed.
He shrugged off his clothing, piece by piece, throwing it all over his desk with no care. 
"-And then?" He hummed when she went quiet.
Her head tilted, but her eyes stayed closed. "Mmm, there was something else. Can't remember."
"Strange to forget the middle of a nightmare, hm?" He asked as he pulled the last of his clothing off.
"Well, only the end of it was bad," she said with a hushed tone. Cregan's hand came to her shoulder, and she naturally sat up, leaning forward on instinct. He'd wash her on occasion, and she assumed he'd do so again. 
"Move forward," he muttered lightly as she continued to speak about her nightmare. She did so without much thought. 
"And it was Winterfell, but it didn't look like it. It had the same stones and the snow but-" she paused, her eyes finally opening and her head turning to the side. "-What are you doing?"
His leg had entered the tub, the other one following. He said nothing as he lowered his body into the tub behind his wife.
She turned her body just enough to see him. "Cregan! There's not enough room!" She giggled.
As he settled into the tub, he pulled her up onto his lap. He held her close and let his hands run up and down her sides. "Seems to be enough room," his low voice murmured into her ear.
She got comfortable against him. A content sigh escaping her.
"Now," he said with a kiss to her head, "continue telling me about this nightmare of yours."
The moment she began to tug at the laces of her dress, Cregan watched. His eyes stayed on her, looking for a way to assist her. 
He made a quick decision, the mighty northern lord dropping to his knees in front of her and unlacing his wife's boots.
She held her skirt up for him. "Cregan, you don't have t-"
"-Quiet," he softly reprimanded. He made no motion to stop. His hand occasionally came up to brush his hair back when it fell into his face.
With the boots unlaced, he ran a hand up her left leg, forcing her to bend at the knee and lift her leg up. He gently pulled the boot off, leaving a kiss on her shin once he had done so, then repeated it all with the other leg.
Her skirt fell back into place, but Cregan stayed. His head tipped back to admire the woman in front of him. His hands now came to her hips and he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her stomach.
She entered their chamber, feeling exhausted from their day travels. They had spent hours outside of Winterfell at the market, connecting with the people of the north.
Now it was all setting in, the exhaustion, the weariness. She groaned lightly as she shut the door, going to the bed without undressing.
On the furs laid a small package, wrapped carefully with a parchment. It was unmarked but clearly placed with intention. She hesitated but decided to discover the contents of such a mysterious thing.
Taking extra caution to no tear the paper, she unwrapped it with anticipation. The last fold of paper was lifted.
The beads from the market.
The two Starks moved down the pathway of the busy market road. Across from them was an older woman, the vendor of a small collection. On her table laid various ribbons and beads, all created by her.
Most walked by without much thought. The beads were carved by shaky hands and the art showed it.
But it caught the attention of the Lady of Winterfell. As if pulled to it, she crossed the busy walkway, going to the table. 
She had fallen in love with a few of the beads, admiring them fully and telling the woman how wonderful she thought them. 
Cregan soon stepped behind her. "You like them?" He whispered to her.
She looked at him, a hopeful look in her eye. "They're beautiful."
Cregan didn't know much about the commodities of women, but he followed along with what he could. "Aye," he agreed along with her. "You can have them."
A smile pulled at her lips, but the look in her eyes died down quickly. "I have enough," she remarked. 
He had high doubts that that was the reason for her sudden decision. He sighed, "But you seem to like them."
"I do-"
Cregan pulled a few coins out and forced them into her hand. "Then get them," he smiled at her, hoping to encourage her.
She looked down at the coins and stepped around the table to speak closely to the woman. 
Cregan gave them privacy, standing as a guard dog amidst the crowd.
She soon returned with a small smile, not nearly the one he was hoping she'd have.
"Well?" He asked, ready to see her decision on which beads she had chosen.
"I have enough," she repeated, giving one last small smile and moving to the next table.
It wasn't hard for Cregan to piece together that she had given the older woman the money with nothing in return, and it made his heart swell.
Her fingers brushed over the beads, overjoyed that he had managed to get the ones she had loved so dearly.
And though he had done something so kind, he never mentioned it. Only once did he even acknowledge it and it was the first time she had worn them in her hair. He remarked a soft, "how pretty," and twirled the strand in his fingers, before moving on like nothing happened.
That's just the kind of man Cregan was.
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hvbris · 1 day ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Whether Violet would see Evil Theo again or not was unfortunately up to the Horned One. She wasn't naive enough to think that He wouldn't send her back there eventually, but she couldn't help but hope anyway. He hadn't sent her to the cultist timeline in a while, after all. Who knew? Maybe He felt bad that his protegé had thrown her out the window. (Even as she thought it, Violet knew that could not possibly be the case.)
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Civilian casualties? Agents attacking each other? Agents being inappropriate? "I didn't think agents would do things like that," admitted Violet, displaying her young age -though it was perhaps a good thing, that all the things she had seen had not jaded her yet. Between Davidson and her dad, she preferred to think most agents were like her dad. "Why wouldn't they complete a mission?" She frowned. If there was a monster, agents had to kill the monster. That sounded pretty straightforward to her. It didn't help that, at only 14, Violet had killed plenty of monsters.
She shook her head. "It wasn't your fault." It was hers. "And... you didn't scare me. I was just worried about you." It had rattled her, yes. Seeing her dad so broken. But the worst was the guilt. She hadn't managed to shake it yet, despite her dad and Samantha's reassurance. Maybe she never would. Guilt had a tendency to cling to her, like wet fabric. "I'm glad you seem to be feeling a little bit better," she said tentatively, carefully. Afraid that, now that she'd said it, the illusion would shatter.
He had once been exactly the same as far as he could understand, he had accepted the first ticket out of the ward and Theo wasn't going to pretend as if he hadn't done the same. Davidson had got to him first, that was all. Not too keen on pointing it out to Violet in that moment, wanting to be as distant from the other Theo as possible in her mind, he just accepted her insistence with a nod. "You have met him, I haven't." He pointed out with his conceding to her answer. "I hope you never see him again either." He at least gave and certainly hoped that was the case, she was already traumatised by him, he didn't think there was a reason to send her back there.
Not noticing she had expertly dodged asking about the rules, and sensibly so, Theo ran an absent hand through his hair for the thought on what other agents sometimes got up to. "Sometimes they cause civilian casualties, attack each other for no reason, are inappropriate with each other or civilians." He made sure to avoid talking about those with the unhealthy relationship and attraction towards monsters. "Sometimes they don't complete a mission and another group end up with a much bigger and more dangerous task." There was a problem in the North of the country that they knew about but were not sure how to handle yet.
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While it was true he and Samantha had made something of a difference in how Delta Green treated its agents, it was still just a small dent in the wider problem. So many were used up and cast aside once they went insane or died, their families receiving nothing for an agent's sacrifices. It was something he knew would not change in his lifetime but they could work on setting up the foundations of it.
He shook his head at her calling him cool, still not quite able to manage even a poor dad joke at it. However he was pleased to have seen her accept the compliments and he smiled a little for it. "I'm sorry I scared you by the way," he said of his latest episode. Theo tended to get frustrated and embarrassed when his OCD became obvious, but this time it had been different and he was upset that he had caused her so much worry.
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pucksandpower · 5 hours ago
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Malfunction
Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader
Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around
Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣
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The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.
But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.
It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.
Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.
It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.
He wants to see you again. Needs to.
He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.
But the screen stays empty.
“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.
“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”
James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”
“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.
A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”
Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.
Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”
“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”
Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”
“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”
Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”
Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”
Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”
Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”
“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”
Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”
“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”
***
It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.
But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.
Alex.
You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”
“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”
You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”
“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”
You brace yourself. “What now?”
“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”
There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”
“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”
You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”
“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”
You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”
“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”
You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”
Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”
You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.
“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”
“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”
You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.
“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”
“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”
“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”
As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.
You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.
***
Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.
But today, his thoughts are miles away.
You.
Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.
And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.
You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.
Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.
And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.
The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.
“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.
Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.
Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.
“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.
You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”
Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”
Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.
You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”
Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”
You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”
“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”
You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”
“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).
“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.
Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”
You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”
“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”
“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.
“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”
You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”
Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”
For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.
Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”
“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.
Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.
Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”
You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”
“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”
You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”
“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”
“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”
You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”
“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”
You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.
You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”
“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.
“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”
“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”
“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”
“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.
Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.
***
The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.
She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”
You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”
“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”
With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.
And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.
You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.
Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.
Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.
But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.
Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.
It’s Franco.
Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.
Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.
Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”
“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”
He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”
You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”
Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”
“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”
You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”
“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”
Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”
Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”
“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”
“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”
You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”
“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”
“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.
“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”
“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.
You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”
“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”
“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.
He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”
You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”
Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”
“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.
“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.
Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”
“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.
You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”
Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”
“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.
He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”
You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”
“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.
“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”
You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”
You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.
“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”
“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”
You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”
“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.
“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.
“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.
You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.
“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.
As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.
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ariestrxsh · 2 days ago
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જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content warning: smut, masturbation, teasing, use of restraints, use of feather tickler, use of vibrator, degradation/humiliation, sub!matt, sub!chris, mean!dom!reader
જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 author's note: this is one of two endings that i wrote for this fic. enjoy! 🤍
જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 summary: both matt and chris lose the bet you made with them about how long they could last during no nut november, which means submitting to you.
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love potions part two (first ending)
He remembered the nude photo you'd sent to the group chat. He wasn't proud of what he was about to do, but he couldn't fend off the desire any longer. He'd never gone so long without masturbating, and it was more than he could bear.
જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Fifteen
The next morning, Matt rolled over in bed, tangled up in the sheets as the sun started to rise, rays of light peeking in through his curtains. He looked at the date on his phone just to be sure time was moving as painfully slow as he thought it was. It was only the 15th. There was no way he was going to be able to make it another fifteen days, especially with you constantly provoking him.
His thumb swiped a few times across his screen until your picture was staring back at him, and he tucked his other hand into his waistband, pulling out his needy cock. He wrapped his fingers around his girth, which in and of itself, felt incredibly relieving.
He studied your curves, his hungry eyes scanning your voluptuous body parts as he started stroking himself. A sequence of soft moans and profanities fell from his slightly parted, pink lips. His eyebrows crinkled and beads of sweat started taking form on his forehead.
It didn't take long before he was on the heels of his climax, furiously pumping away while a familiar feeling arose that he had greatly missed these past couple weeks. A few more strangled whimpers later, and he came unraveled, his seed overflowing, spilling onto his hand, and making a mess.
He was mesmerized by how much had come out of him and how good it felt to cum again. He laid breathlessly in his bed for several minutes, recovering from his orgasm.
That was when you came bursting through the door. Matt immediately flinched startled by your presence, trying to hide the cum that had spilled onto his tummy. "Unbelievable," you said, shaking your head at Matt as you pulled back his sheets, revealing the evidence of his fragile willpower. "You couldn't even go a month without getting off? Fucking pathetic," you scoffed at him as he scrambled to pull the blanket back over him.
His cheeks were hot with shame, and he couldn't look you in the eye. "Don't look!" He shouted back. "I just caught Chris doing the same thing," you smirked.
You replayed the image in your head of Chris, the way he had been so fixated on your photo that he hadn't even noticed you walk in. You recalled the pretty sounds he had made and how he'd licked his lips right before finishing in his hand as he had urgently fisted his cock.
With every stroke, a rope of cum had ejected from his tip, and just when you thought he'd drained himself, there was more. You remembered that vulnerable smile that had crept into his expression while he came, painting his chest and his stomach in his milky white fluid and staring down at the mess he had made. He had slowed the pace of his pumps to a stop while throwing his head back and letting his phone fall to the bed, revealing your own nude on his screen.
"Wow, that was hot. If that's how much cum you had saved up in just two weeks, it's a shame you couldn't wait two more. Could you imagine?" You had asked him, leaning up against his door frame and watching his smile slowly fall as he became aware of your presence. "Shit," he had whispered out of breath.
"What?" Matt asked you, looking up at you with a shocked expression and bringing you out of your reverie. "Yeah, I actually came in here to tell you that you won, but I guess you didn't," you chuckled, pulling the blanket back once more.
"You know what this means, right?" You smirked down at him. He looked up at you subserviantly with blushed cheeks, but he said nothing. "This means you get to be my little toy, doesn't it?" You cooed, caressing his jawline and your eyes traveling back down to the mess Matt had made on his lower stomach.
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A few hours later, you had both boys right where you wanted them, side-by-side, naked, and each tied to a chair. You stood in front of them, completely naked as well. The shopping bags you'd brought back with you a few weeks prior reappeared, and you started to dig through them.
"You know, I knew when you guys first told me about the No Nut November challenge, that neither one of you would be able to make it. But, c'mon, you couldn't even make it three weeks? You're both fucking pathetic," you scoffed at them, pulling out a long stick with a big, fluffy feather on the end.
"What's that?" Matt asked, growing wide-eyed. "It looks like a fucking cat toy," Chris snarked before you could answer him. "Well, maybe that's fitting, because you're both pussies," you declared, sneering at Chris. "It's a feather tickler," you replied, turning your attention back to Matt.
You started to walk closer to him, and you slowly closed the distance between the feather and Matt's gorgeous cock. Matt couldn't hide his intrigue. His blue eyes locked onto the toy as you started to tease the underside of his shaft. You watched the muscles in his cock involuntarily quiver as you tickled his length, blood rushing to it and his tip starting to swell.
"Oh," a sweet sound of pleasure passed through Matt's pink lips. "Like that? Like when I tease your pretty cock for you, Matthew?" You purred, taking the end of the feather and drawing circles on the head while you watched Matt's expression meld into desperation.
He glanced into your eyes and nodded before locking his gaze back onto the way the feather danced across his sensitive nerve endings, and he let out a few more whimpers. "I don't think you just like it, Matt. I think you're loving it," you observed, your voice dripping with seduction.
A silky, clear fluid started to drool from his slit, and you gently ran the tip of the feather through it, watching for Matt's responses. He squirmed beneath your light touch, lifting his hips off the chair a bit and tugging at his restraints as you played with him. "So fucking pathetic. You're so sensitive that I'm surprised you don't cum just from putting on pants every morning," you chuckled, taking delight in his humiliated expression.
Matt had been in submissive roles before during sex, but nothing quite like this. He'd always dreamt of being tied up, teased, and being talked down to by an assertive woman, but the reality was almost more embarrassing than he could handle and somehow, he still adored every second of it.
Shy, strangled moans poured into the room as you manipulated his cock like a puppeteer, pulling your invisible strings and making his cock twitch with every gesture of the feather. Matt couldn't hide his pleasure or his humiliation.
More pre-cum gathered at his tip, and he slammed his eyes shut as if that would make it any less embarrassing that he was getting turned on by something so simple and degrading. "I can't believe how close you're getting from a little feather," you mocked him.
Chris couldn't help but watch the way his brother writhed around beneath the gentle sensation, growing curious about how he'd react to it and if it really felt as good as Matt was making it seem.
After a couple more minutes of teasing, you cast the feather tickler off to the side and replaced it with the hum of a small vibrator, resting it against Matt's aggravated tip. "Oh my god," Matt purred, enjoying the new feeling, closing his eyes again.
"Look at me while you finish, Matthew," you ordered him in a serious matter. His eyes fluttered open, but once his gaze met yours, he wanted to hide again.
"Please don't make me," he begged, his voice cracking in desperation. "I won't make you do anything. But if you wanna cum, you gotta look at me," you said, watching the way his pretty cock twitched beneath your control.
"C-can't," he whimpered. "Sure you can, pretty boy. Don't get all shy on me," you said, running your thumb across his bottom lip. He managed to maintain eye contact, a sacrifice he was willing to make in order to finally feel sweet relief wash over him.
His knuckles started to lose color as he gripped the seat of his chair, and his stomach started to ache from how much pressure had built up in his lower abdomen. You had one hand caressing his jawline, tilting his head up towards you and your other hand on the buzzing toy.
Chris couldn't keep his eyes off you either and the way you expertly taunted his brother, eagerly awaiting his turn while his cock jumped at the sight. "That's it. Cum for me like the pathetic little boy you are," you urged him in a seductive tone.
Matt came undone, pulling at his restraints, arching his back slightly off the chair, and looking deep into your eyes while sounds of sexual release filled the air. You watched as his cock pulsated, emitting a pretty, pearly white substance that squirted from his tip and painted the hardwood floor in front of him.
He savored the intensity of his orgasm, the feeling of pure bliss, and the way his climax ebbed and flowed rather than burning out quickly due to how much you'd teased him. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it, baby?" You cooed, admiring the mess he made for you.
"I knew you'd like that. I didn't know you'd like it that much," you teased him, turning off the toy. He stared at you in awe with his heavy eyelids hooded over his pretty, blue eyes as he tried to recover, panting and babbling about how good it was.
You made your way over to Chris who looked at you with a mix of desire and annoyance. He knew that whatever you were about to make him do, that it'd be extremely degrading. You set down the vibrator and picked up the feather tickler again.
You came up behind him and started by running the tip of the feather across his collar bones and his chest. Slowly but surely, you trailed down his stomach, stopping right before you got to his throbbing member. "Awh. Look at you. Already hard, and I haven't even touched you yet," you taunted him.
You could feel his breathing become more shallow, and his chest rose and fell in a quickening rhythm. "What are you waiting for?" He huffed at you, trying to conceal how much he secretly wanted to know what it would be like to be played with by you in such a vulnerable way.
"I'm waiting for you to beg for it," you whispered, your lips curling into condescending grin. "I don't beg," he said in a stern voice, craning his neck to look you in the eye. "Then I guess you're not going to cum," you nonchalantly replied, shrugging and waving the feather around in the air in front of the two of you.
Chris sat in silence for a few seconds before swallowing his pride and letting out a sigh. "Fine. Please," he half-heartedly mumbled. "Speak up, Chris. I can't hear you over your raging erection," you smirked, peering down at his hard-on. "Please," he said a little more sincerely.
"Come on, Chris. I know you need way more attention than you've been getting. Just admit it," you cooed in his ear, wrapping your arm around his strong shoulder and placing your hand gently on his chest. You passionately kissed the side of his neck, pressing your tongue against his warm flesh and eliciting a faint moan from his pouty lips.
"I do need it," he answered you, a bit of desperation seeping into his inflection. "How bad do you need it, huh?" You lasciviously purred. "Please. I need it so bad," he responded, longingly. You placed the feather-end of the rod against his length and started tracing the veins on his shaft. He hissed through his teeth and let out a satisfied, "Ahh."
"Good boy. Let me hear how good I make you feel," you hummed, walking back around to face him, continuing to tease his aching cock. "Always acting like you're so tough. Not so tough anymore, huh?" You asked in a soft, sweet voice. "Fuck," Chris whimpered, peering up at you through his bedroom eyes, not even trying to defend himself as his lips curled into a pretty smile.
Chris was always the dominant one in his sexual relationships, always being the one to dish out the degradation, but finding himself on the receiving end, he liked it more than he thought he would.
You gave him a diabolical smile, delighting in how easily he submitted to you and how much he liked it, still gripping the rod of the feather while you delicately and methodically tickled his length. "Please. I need more," Chris whispered, his eyes locked on the vibrator that was placed on the table behind you.
"I love it when you beg. Keep going," you told him, making his cock dance and watching him shudder as you played with him. "Please. Please give me more," he begged, his voice dripping with desperation while he nodded eagerly at you, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and the toy.
You smirked at him before picking up the vibrator and switching it on. The low hum sounded, and Chris watched in anticipation as you started running the toy up his staff, teasing the veins on the underside of his dick.
Droplets of precum started to pool at his sensitive tip, and his cock jerked as you started to near the head with the vibrating tool. "You're doing so good for me," you responded, running the pad of your thumb over Chris' pink cheek while you looked into his eyes.
"More," he pleaded, and you turned the toy up one setting. The expression on his face was drenched in pleasure, his lip caught between his teeth, flushed complexion, and seduction in his eyes. He started to pull at the rope wrapped around his wrists as he grew impatient. He needed to cum so bad.
"Please. More," he whimpered, his blue eyes glossing over as he approached the finish line. You felt so powerful, pushing the button to intensify the sensation and watching Chris fold beneath the feeling while you listened to his moans become more needy.
"Cum for me, sweet boy. I know you can do it," you whispered, cradling his face and encouraging him. The way you coddled him and called him cute pet names was almost more degrading to him than anything you'd said to Matt, but he couldn't help how much he loved it.
He nodded at you with a smug smile as his body started to tremble. His hips raised off the seat, and he threw his head back as his pretty cock began to pulse, emitting his sticky, white fluid.
His urgent whimpers filled the room as he submitted to his climax, allowing it to wash over him and leave him in a state of peace and tranquility once it had taken its course. Chris peered down breathlessly, a string of drool hanging from his open mouth, studying the way his cum dripped down the sides of his cock. Humiliation started to set in.
"Look at that," you cooed, but Chris could barely hear you over the powerful ringing that flooded his ears. "I think you might have liked that even more than Matt did. You beg like a little bitch," you said, a condescending smile stretching across your lips.
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biteyoubiteme · 2 days ago
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i’m BACK!
clearly i’m a sucker for sub!member…
sub!hyunjin !!!! we need to talk abt him more !!
i’d just love to hear your thoughts !! 🫶
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sub!hyunjin thoughts
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hyunjin x gn!reader
warnigns: 🔞!!! sub!hyunjin, handjob, cum eating, prob forgot some sorry
wc: 0.5k
an: omg I love sub!member so much thank you so much for requesting I hope you like this one !! :))) also answering this one before the beomgyu one im sorry lol hyunjin has just been on my mind so heavy lately
[m.list] [1kevent m.list]
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When you first met Hyunjin you didn't expect him to be so whiny in bed, begging for your touch, your attention. It was so new for you to be wanted so badly in this way. Not the usual pining but the need for which he wanted you was different. Your phone was full of his whimpering voice messages. “I-I can’t stop thinking about you- I need you, please baby- call me please-“ 
he will send you videos attached of his twitching bulge, leaking spots of precum dotting the fabric of his underwear. And when you tell him not to touch himself he will listen, fumbling over his words when you get back to his dorm, desperately trying to keep himself together just at the sight of you coming into his room. First tangled in the sheets, his knuckles bleached from the hold, hips jerking, humping the air. 
You always take care of him so well, so much so that he falls asleep drained in the middle of you cleaning him up. You will wrap up with him in his bed only waking up to the way he's rolling his hips, humping the mattress, half asleep and unaware he has woken you. “Hyunjin,” you draw out his name, your morning voice catching him by the throat. 
“I'm sorry,” he whines, “I just- I dreamt about last night and-and-” he's cut off by his own moan when you slip your hand in front of him, palming him over his sweatpants. 
“You have to be quiet, everyone else might wake up if you're too loud,” and you will snake your arm under his head, pulling him closer to you as you shove your fingers into his mouth.  It's instinctive for him to suck on the digits, moaning around them as you dip your hand into his waistband. He's already so leaky, your thumb rolling over his tip to collect anything you could to help aid your strokes. 
He can't even keep himself from trying to fuck into your hand, writhing against you, the vibrations around your fingers shooting up your wrist. You purposefully keep the drags of your hand slow and languid, “I love when my pretty boy thinks of me; so cute, so hard,” you build up your pace, wrist jerking as you follow his full length. But it's when you switch it up and circle your fingers around his tip, tugging short strokes, that finally breaks him. 
He doesn't need to speak for you to know he's about to cum, his stomach flexing, balls drawing up, and cock twitching, all mixed with his muffled whimpers lead to him spilling in your hand. He's still moaning when you pull out your fingers from his mouth only to replace them with your now cream-coated ones. 
Peppering kissing down his neck, he licks your hand clean, “Does my pretty boy feel better?” 
But he only responds with a whimper, still hard and begging for more. 
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kismetlotts · 2 days ago
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Kinktober 🎃 day nine: Cheating!
cw: cheating, dubcon, noncon, mentions on rape, open relationships? (Johnny and Simon share), rough sex, mentions of blood, mentions of saliva, fingering, oral sex on reader, bruising, voyeurism, ‘don’t get caught’ trope, ignorance, degrading names such as ‘whore’, vocal Simon, creampie, mentions of having a child
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Simon and Johnny who are so used to sharing each other’s little toys: their own girlfriends. It’s a weird bond that brings the two of them together. It’s sick and fucking perverted but it’s something to talk about when the weather turns cold and on a mission.
Sipping on their drinks as they recharge their batteries mumbling a, 'Remember so and so?’ getting a ‘Yeah, they were a good fuck.' in response.
It was more than likely one of the reason why the two blokes struggled with keeping their girlfriends. Most of them rejecting and breaking up with them when they’d bring it up because what woman who was looking for a family, a life, love, would want to fuck their boyfriend’s best friend? Or be tampered with?
The two of them had grown a lot of respect and loyalty for each other from this little routine. A ridiculous amount when you put it against how much respect they gained from each other at war. Protecting one and others lives, killing for each other, just doesn't help the same than sharing some good pussy. Weird logic that not even they understood but with all said, they were tight, close.
So when Johnny got his hands on you, a pretty little thing that refused to fuck until the third date he knew not only was he in danger, but you were. He knew how much Simon would ruin you, take that precious little hole of yours and stuff you so deep you'd feel it for days. Johnny just fucking knew it would happen and when you'd finally let him inside, invited him into your heavenly cunt- he couldn’t let him steal you.
Too delicate and light for Simons heavy way with sex.
"So when's my turn?" The gruff, masked man would ask Johnny. Conversation of you being brought up and the words just tumbled from the cracks of his lips. Normality and need seeping through his tone because as it was such a statement in his and Johnny's relationship, he’d think no other way.
Not once would he even consider the possibility of Johnny turning around and refusing, saying no. Telling him that your pussy- your body- is just for him. Claiming you against his own kind. Barricading and locking you away from him in his designed cell of greed.
It wasn’t going to end well, Johnny was sure of it, so with an awkward laugh and the rub of his neck he spun around facing him, eyes catching Simons through the mask before clearing his throat. Words coming across shakier than intended because he wasn't intimidated by Simon, more fretful of what he’d do knowing that you were off limits.
"Actually, lass is a good' ne. Think she might be a keeper Si." Silence filling the room for about five seconds, the slow click of the clock on the wall the only audible thing. Simons gaze not changing once and it killed Johnny, bugged him harder than a kick to the teeth.
Everything about him yearning to know what Simons brain was thinking or what he was planning, wanting to reach out and shake him, beg him to back off. They were getting old now, it was bound to be called off at some point- when they properly wanted to settle down and have kids and a family, right?
"Oh really?" His accent and words a monotone warning but Johnny was so flushed with relief that he hadn’t exploded and raged at him, his ears missed it. Missed the way his blinks slowed, analysing the man in front of him. Missed the way Simons personally and mindset changed. New thoughts drowning his head so hard he forced out exhales to think straight. Did he think he was better than him? More deserving of your body than gruff ol’ Simon over here? Worthier?
He was fucking seething, the metallic taste in his mouth potent as he bit his tongue, refraining to tell Johnny to go fuck himself, stand up and find you. Go track you down and make you cry both of their names just so he can hear which one sounds better or which one turns him on more.
Moaning your boyfriend’s name so loudly while his friend hits that one part. Choking out, crying out for Mactavish as your eyes roll back, tongue drooping out the side of your lips too. He’d be a liar to say his dick wasn't twitching at the thought.
"Yeah, I'm so sorry Simon-" But he was already shaking his head, hand waving him off with a sly smirk on his face as he told him no worries! Told him that's its alright and that he completely understands. Barely moving an inch the rest of the night as he came up with plans on what he's going to do to you. What he did in fact do to you.
Face down in yours and Johnny’s double bed. Panties damp with your cum from how many times Simon had already made you orgasm, shirt wet with tears and saliva. Rubbing your clit so harshly and fast your body trembled at every little touch. The fine line between touching and fucking, abuse and rape being blurred but you craved it. You longed for it, days of wishing and wondering when he’d come back to please you again.
He’d force your legs apart, holding you by the ankles while he ate like a mad man. Devouring you messily, the noises sounding like a fucking porn movie. Ruining your makeup, your sheets, your body. You couldn’t look Johnny in the eye when he got on all fours, kissing your thigh and humming against the soft skin while asking how you’d got another bruise.
Day and night- when Johnny's downstairs and when he's away. He'd have you begging to stop, pleading him to let you go before you’d lose yourself. His thrusts silencing you, cries turning to moans back to cries to screams of joy- it was mesmerising and so fucking bad of him.
“Oh shut up, babe. You know you want me.” He’d grunt, eyes shutting as he took you in again and again. Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and ignorance for your cries. Knowing it was only a matter of time before you gave in again, joining him and thrusting back against his cock.
What made it worse was the moans that came from this man. Johnny was never vocal- never vocal enough for you but Simon sounded almost in tears. Each thrust like he’s on the brink of orgasm, you felt so good he couldn’t stay quiet- he didn’t want to.
His favourite memory was when he snuck into your window, almost kicking the stupid Halloween decorations Johnny had put up outside on his way up. The sky pitch black and your bedroom likewise but he could see you in his night vision goggles, sneaking behind you as you changed out of your clothes getting ready for bed.
Bending you over the bedframe, peeling down your panties and thrusting into you for a quickie. The sound of Johnny's electric toothbrush coming from the bathroom one room away only adding to his excitement. He could step in any minute by now, luckily from the darkness Simon had an advantage and most likely enough time to hide if he wanted to. If he wanted to leave your pussy.
Gloved fingers slipped into your mouth for you to suck or bite. Anything to help silence your moans. It excited him the fact that Johnny could find him, Johnny could catch him and realise all this time he though you were safe and committed to him you’d gone behind his back. His precious little girl who actually is just a dirty whore. A dirty whore who lets her hole be used. By men she doesn’t even know.
He wonders what you do when Johnny brings him up in conversation, I mean, he figures you haven't spilt the beans to him yet so do you just laugh and nod on along? Hearing his name, acting like you don't know his touch or how his tongue feels. Pretending he's a stranger, just some stranger who's dick is drilled into your memory. He doesn't fuck like Johnny, he's bigger than him, hits all the places that Johnny can’t. You can never get Simon out of your mind.
Filling you up with his cum and laughing deeply at himself. He's got to be careful with it- what if you two were trying for a baby? That would be a shock, wouldn’t it? Gorgeous little kid coming out looking just like Simon- Simons eyes, Simons hair; a little mini Simon left all for you to raise.
Maybe Johnny would be too thick to realise, too slow to pick up on why his son looks so much like his best friend- that the son he’d always wanted actually belong to Simon. Oh fucking hell, he was a dark deluded arsehole- who thinks like this? Slipping back out of the window and shutting it the same time as Johnny walked into the room.
Large soft body crawling on top of you and pushing you further into the bed. Lips attacking your sensitive neck as his already hard cock slips its way inside of your warm, creampied folds. The darkness hiding all the evidence and leaving him to believe it’s just how wet you are for him. How needy and desperate you are for him.
Blissfully unaware that the wetness lubing his cock up, letting him fuck you with ease and making him feel so hot and so good, was no other than his best friends cum. Dribbling out your hole and onto your thigh as he picks up the pace.
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