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planetaryupscaled · 28 days 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.

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.

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.

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?”

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.

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?”

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

1K notes · View notes

yeostinys · 3 months ago

Text

Cry For Me

Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, slight angst, PWP, Office!AU

Notes: Cheating (don’t do it yall. this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (wrap it up!!! do not try this irl, it is pure fantasy!), explicit language, dacryphilia kink, humiliation, degrading, power fixation, Hongjoong lowkey manipulates (but for the better ig lol)

Word Count: 13k (condensed some ideas to bring down the word count LOL)

Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

———————————————————————

As you stepped into your apartment, the night sky cast a deep blue glow through the windows, shimmering like a vast ocean. The warm glow of the sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the entryway and casting soft shadows on the walls. You paused for a moment, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room.

It was the fifth time this month that your boyfriend had canceled on you, and each time felt like another nail in the coffin of what once seemed like a blossoming romance. The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, making each step toward the kitchen feel more burdensome than the last.

With a determined resolve, you made your way to the fridge, the familiar chill greeting you as you opened the door. Your fingers closed around a half-filled bottle of wine, the label slightly crumpled from the many times it had been hastily put back. You pulled it out, and reached for a glass. You stare blankly as you poured the wine, watching as the dark liquid rose to the rim, glistening in the soft light. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, taking a few deep gulps, each swallow both comforting and numbing. As the warmth spread through you, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a familiar sensation that you had tried so hard to push away.

The memories of the past 2 years flooded back—Siwoo’s laughter, the shared moments that now felt like distant echoes. But lately, he had become a stranger, his warmth replaced by an impenetrable distance. You had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing gap, but each time ended in disappointment. Now, standing in your quiet apartment, you felt a profound sense of loss that had settled deep within you, leaving you feeling numb, as if you were merely going through the motions of life without truly living it.

You quickly wiped your tears away, the salty tracks on your cheeks feeling foreign yet familiar. With each brush of your fingers, the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm you twisted into something sharper—anger.

*Ding.*

The sudden sound pulled your attention away from your thoughts. You turned your head toward your phone, its screen lighting up with a notification. The sight of Siwoo's name, accompanied by a little heart, made your heart sink further.

Siwoo <3: I’m sorry I cancelled again. Please don’t hate me. I’ll see you on your lunch tomorrow.

You stared at the message, the words blurring momentarily as your vision wavered. Another empty promise. With a shaky hand, you raised your glass to your lips, the bitter taste of the wine filling your mouth as you took another long gulp. It was a poor substitute for the warmth you once felt from Siwoo's presence.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond—not now. You needed a few moments to gather your swirling emotions, to avoid lashing out with the hurt and anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The silence of the apartment enveloped you, amplifying your racing thoughts and making the weight of his message all the more suffocating.

Once you finished the rest of the wine bottle, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction. You turned away from your phone, not wanting to see another message or another reminder of the chasm that seemed to grow between you. With heavy steps, you made your way to the bedroom.

You plopped down onto the bed, the soft sheets cradling you in their embrace. As your body sank into the mattress, fatigue overtook you, pulling you into a deep slumber. In the quiet darkness, you hoped for dreams that could somehow soothe the ache in your heart, if only for a little while.

———

The next day dawned with a muted light filtering through the curtains, the world outside still waking up. You rolled over, disoriented for a moment, before the reality of the day ahead crashed over you. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the remnants of last night’s indulgence weighing heavily in your mind.

As you shuffled to the bathroom, the headache from downing that last glass of wine throbbed at your temples, a persistent reminder of your restless night. You cursed under your breath, regretting the decision to finish the bottle in a moment of vulnerability.

You quickly went through the motions of your morning routine. Your job as the secretary for one of the most well-known CEOs in the Creative Arts Institution required precision and poise, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that had kept you up late. You dressed in a tailored blouse and a pencil skirt, the fabric smoothing against your skin as you adjusted the collar. The mirror reflected a professional exterior, yet you felt anything but composed inside.

After applying a touch of makeup to mask the fatigue in your eyes, you gathered your things—laptop, planner, and the ever-essential cup of coffee that awaited you in the kitchen.

———

As you step into the tall building, the morning sun filters through the glass façade, casting geometric shadows across the polished marble lobby. The familiar bustle of your colleagues greets you, their voices merging with the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. You nod and smile as you greet in response. You make your way to the elevator, its silver doors glinting in the light. Pressing the button for the top floor, you mentally prepare for the day ahead, trying not to show your exhausted emotions, mentally and physically. When the doors slide open, you step into the expansive hallway lined with art. At the end of the corridor, you enter the grand office door. You walk to the enormous desk adorned with a gold plaque that reads “CEO Kim Hongjoong” and set down the iced Americano you picked up on your way in. You reach into your tote bag and retrieve a neatly organized file folder. Flipping it open, you scan through today’s itinerary, noting the key meetings and tasks that lie ahead. Once satisfied with your briefing, you close the folder and return it to your bag. You head to the front desk positioned just outside the CEO's office, and begin your morning tasks. Every day in the office has settled into a rhythm, a familiar routine that feels almost automatic.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” “Hello, Mr. Kim!” The greetings echo as your colleagues bow slightly, their respect palpable.

You rise from your chair, straightening your blouse, and offer a nonchalant nod, masking the exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you say as you bow, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Hongjoong approaches, his expression warm yet focused.

“Hello, Y/N. Have you prepared everything for today’s schedule?” he asks, moving past you toward his office.

“Yes, you have a meeting in an hour with a client…” you begin to relay the itinerary, following him inside. He settles into his chair, taking a sip of the Americano and nods in response.

“Also, I dealt with the complaints from the last exhibition. Everything’s been taken care of, just like you wanted,” you add, your tone casual, though the weight of your own issues tugs at your thoughts. Hongjoong looks up, a smile breaking across his face.

“That’s why I have you as my secretary, Miss Y/N. Thank you so much.”

You nod, the compliment momentarily brightening your mood, but it’s fleeting. You bow again before slipping out of the office. As the door closes behind you, you take a deep breath, pushing the worries from your relationship to the back of your mind, ready to tackle the day ahead with practiced indifference.

Throughout the morning, you flit in and out of meetings, accompanying Hongjoong as he navigates a flurry of tasks. The office is a hive of activity, and you move seamlessly between conversations, taking notes and organizing files, but the weight of your personal life hangs heavy in the back of your mind.

You glance at the clock on your desk: just thirty minutes until your hour break. A sigh escapes your lips, and you reach for your phone, hesitating. Siwoo’s message sits unread, a lingering question mark in your thoughts. You know you should respond, but the uncertainty of his invitation makes you hesitate. Is it pettiness that keeps you from reaching out, or a defense mechanism to shield your heart from further pain? You shake off the intrusive thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand.

*Ding.* Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s another message from Siwoo.

Siwoo <3: I won’t be able to make it today. Something came up at work. Sorry.

You scoff under your breath, a bitter taste filling your mouth. His absence stings, but you’ve braced yourself for this—after all, it’s become a pattern.

Just then, Hongjoong’s voice crackles through the telephone intercom on your desk, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. “Miss Y/N, please come to my office.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, rising from your seat with a practiced smile as you make your way into his office.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?” you ask, your tone polite, carefully masking the frustration beneath the surface from Siwoo’s message.

Hongjoong leans back in his chair, his expression serious.

“I know you have your hour break in twenty minutes, but I just got off the phone with a potential client. They want to meet over lunch in a few minutes, and I need you to tag along to take notes. If you can wait on your break for another hour, I’ll cover your meal if you accompany me now.”

His words feel more like an instruction than a request, and you nod in response, pushing your personal frustrations aside.

“Of course, sir. Shall I call the chauffeur now?”

“No need,” he replies, grabbing his briefcase. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll drive.”

You nod and follow Hongjoong out of the building.

You settled into the passenger seat next to Hongjoong, the sleek interior of the car enveloping you. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal punctuated the silence, while the soft murmur of the news on the radio served as a gentle backdrop.

“Miss Y/N, is everything alright?” Hongjoong's voice cut through the quiet, steady and attentive. You turned to him, slightly taken aback by his directness.

“Y-Yes, sir. What makes you concerned?” you replied, a hint of surprise coloring your voice. His eyes remained fixed on the road, focused yet perceptive.

“My top employee—my secretary—has been unusually quiet lately. You seem a bit off,” he remarked, expertly navigating the car into a parking lot. His concern was genuine, and you felt a flutter of warmth at his attention.

“I apologize if I gave that impression today, sir. I assure you, I’m alright,” you replied, straightening in your seat, trying to project confidence. Hongjoong parked the car and turned to face you, his expression serious.

“Y/N, I’m not just talking about today. You’ve been like this for a few days now. I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, please let me know. You never slack off—well, not that I’ve noticed—but you’re a vital part of our team. If you’re not at your best, it affects us all, especially me. Let’s tackle any issues together, professionally.” His words carried a weight of understanding that took you by surprise.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.

“I… I apologize, sir. It’s just some personal issues in my relationship. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my work,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. You feared that honesty might blur the lines of your professional relationship.

Hongjoong regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his brow slightly furrowing. “Problems in your relationship?” he asked gently. You nodded, keeping your head bowed.

“Yes. I appreciate you asking,” you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude mixed with apprehension.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual professional demeanor. “Let’s get to work.”

The next hour unfolded at a high-end restaurant, its luxurious ambiance creating the perfect setting for a business meeting. You sat next to Hongjoong, across from two potential clients, the atmosphere charged with opportunity. As they discussed plans for an upcoming exhibition, you diligently took notes, your mind sharpening as you transitioned into your role.

Hongjoong exuded charisma, ordering champagne and an array of exquisite appetizers while skillfully guiding the conversation. You admired the way he balanced authority with approachability, creating an atmosphere of collaboration.

———

As promised, Hongjoong granted you your hour break once you both returned to the office. The day had been packed with meetings and conversations, but you had already eaten at the restaurant, so instead of lingering in the bustling atmosphere of the office, you decided to find solace on the rooftop.

Ascending to the rooftop, you pushed open the heavy door, the cool air hitting your face like a refreshing wave. You walked over to one of the bistro tables, the metal surface gleaming under the midday sun. You sank into one of the chairs, letting out a deep sigh that released the pent-up stress from the morning. In your left hand, you cradled an iced Americano to keep you alert. In your right, you held your phone, its screen illuminating your face as you contemplated the text messages from Siwoo.

He should be off work by now, you thought, scrolling through the thread of messages. You hesitated, biting your lip, unsure of how to approach him. The uncertainty had lingered in your mind for days, and it felt like a weight on your chest. After a moment’s deliberation, you resolved to take initiative and give him a call.

You tapped his name, and set the phone on speaker. As the phone rang, the sound echoed in the serene space around you. It rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, you heard his voice on the other end, slightly breathless.

“H-hello? Y/N?” Siwoo stuttered, his tone hesitant.

“Siwoo, what are you doing?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your heart raced with anticipation.

“Mmm, n-nothing much, just working out. I-I went to the gym after work,” he replied, punctuating his words with a grunt that surprised you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Since when did he ever work out?

You decided to push forward, hoping to reconnect. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’ll make dinner,” you offered, softening your voice as if trying to coax him back into your world.

“A-ahh, probably not tonight. I have to finish some work at h-home,” he stuttered again, his voice strained, as though he were struggling for breath.

Disappointment settled in your stomach, but you pressed on. “I can come over then, yeah? I’ll make you your favorite dish?” You mentally kicked yourself for even suggesting it, a flicker of doubt reminding you of all the times he had flaked out before.

“N-no, Y/N. I-It’s okay. A-ahh!” Siwoo grunted loudly, and a chill ran through you at the sound.

“Siwoo, what’s going on?!” You raised your voice slightly, urgency creeping in.

“I told you, Y/N. I’m working out. We can’t see each other tonight; I’m busy. I have to go,” he snapped, the finality in his tone cutting through the air like a knife. The line went dead, leaving you with only the echo of his voice. Your heart sank, a familiar ache running within you.

You stared at the phone in disbelief, the cool metal suddenly feeling heavy in your hand. How could he do this again? A mix of frustration and sadness swirled in your chest, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it did little to quell the rising tide of emotions.

——

You glance at the small digits on your screen, the glowing numbers reading 8:00 PM. Your shift officially ended thirty minutes ago, but here you sat, a blend of dedication and denial keeping you tethered to your desk. Guilt washed over you, a stark reminder of Hongjoong’s earlier words. There was no point in heading home, not when the weight of unfinished tasks bore down on you. The quiet of your apartment would only invite sorrow, while the office, though nearly deserted, offered a comforting distraction.

The atmosphere had shifted; the energy of the day had given way to silence as colleagues trickled out, exchanging soft goodbyes. Each farewell came with a gentle reminder not to work too hard, and you managed a smile, masking the turmoil brewing inside you. Once they departed, you returned your focus to the glowing screen, rifling through files and diligently noting necessary information, your fingers a blur over the keyboard.

A flicker of light caught your eye—a warm streaming light from Hongjoong’s office. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity; you’d assumed he had left an hour ago. Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to wander, you turned back to your work.

“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice broke through your concentration. You looked up at him through your rectangular glasses that rested on your face. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and a black vest that accentuated his shoulders.(What the fuck Y/N; he’s your boss.) You mentally scolded yourself, attempting to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.

“O-Oh, yes sir?” you replied, setting your pen down on the desk.

“Your shift ended an hour ago. Why are you still here?” His brow arched in genuine curiosity, his tone both commanding and concerned.

“I’m just catching up on some work, sir. I apologize. I’ll be heading home soon,” you replied, striving for composure even as nerves danced in your stomach.

“Y/N, come to my office,” he said, his calm demeanor masking the authority in his request. You hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. Why did he want to speak in private, especially when the office was nearly empty?

Despite your reservations, you take off your glasses frames, place them on your desk and follow him into his office. The door clicking shut behind you, a sound that felt like a declaration. The dim light cast long shadows, enveloping the room. He sits at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.

“What’s going on in your relationship?” Hongjoong asked, his tone direct yet oddly informal. The question hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your eyes widened, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck.

“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about personal matters at work…” you managed to reply, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you avoided his gaze.

“It’s after work hours, Y/N. You can speak comfortably,” he said, his voice calm and soothing, yet imbued with a sharpness that conveyed he was not one to be easily dismissed. “I can tell something is wrong.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to formulate a response. A swirl of emotions crashed over you—fear of crossing professional boundaries mixed with the realization that perhaps he genuinely wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Colleagues had often joked about how you and Hongjoong were like a married couple at work, a notion you had always brushed aside. The title felt cliché, almost childish, and you had preferred to maintain a strictly professional atmosphere.

But as you looked at him, a flicker of understanding passed between you. Maybe he wasn’t just playing the role of the CEO tonight. Perhaps he truly wanted to understand what you were going through. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you considered opening up.

“We have… just been distant lately,” you say hesitantly, the words slipping out with reluctance. “Our schedules don’t seem to be aligning, and our communication is off. That is all, sir.” You glance at him, searching for a response.

He hums thoughtfully, nodding in acknowledgment. “Shall I… cut your hours? Maybe find a second secretary to fill in while you get to spend more time with your significant other?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“N-no, sir!” The words escaped your lips almost too hastily, an instinctive reaction that made you feel slightly embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckled, his head lowering momentarily before he lifted it again, locking eyes with you.

“So, is it his schedule that’s not cooperating with yours?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded in silence, the weight of your emotions pressing down as you considered the truth behind your answer.

“Mm… interesting.” Hongjoong tapped his chin thoughtfully, the wheels of his mind clearly turning. Curiosity prickled at you; what was going through his head? You couldn’t help but wonder about the direction this conversation was taking.

“Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what does your partner do for a living?” he asked, his tone calm and inviting.

“He’s a professor at the university located downtown,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.

“A professor?” Hongjoong mused, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone. “I doubt their schedules are that busy compared to yours—a full-time secretary for a well-known company.” He dropped his hands into his pockets, his gaze intent and probing.

“Are you sure you should be concerned about his schedule? Maybe… it’s something more?” Hongjoong added nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the seriousness of his implication.

You felt a wave of confusion wash over you. What was he suggesting? Your mind raced, trying to decipher his words. Was he implying that the distance in your relationship could be rooted in something deeper than just busy schedules? The thought unsettled you, but a part of you was intrigued by his concern. You hesitated, caught in a web of uncertainty as you considered how to respond.

“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir…” you murmured, your gaze dropping to your black heels, the polished tips reflecting the dim light of the office.

“Come here, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice a blend of softness and authority that sent a shiver down your spine. Almost instinctively, you found your feet moving toward him, the rhythmic click of your pumps echoing softly against the floor as you approached. You stopped just in front of his black loafers, your heart racing in your chest.

“Closer,” he instructed, his voice lowering, deepening with an intensity that made you catch your breath. You stepped forward, positioning yourself between his slightly parted legs, the air thick with unspoken tension.

His hand reached out, a gentle yet firm grasp settling on your waist. You gasped in shock, the unexpected warmth of his touch flooding through you. This is wrong, you thought, panic stirring within, but something deeper held you in place, a pull that made it difficult to consider pulling away. Instead, you stood there, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Maybe…” Hongjoong began, his thumb rubbing softly against the fabric of your blouse, the gentle motion both soothing and unsettling.

“your partner is being unfaithful…?” The words hung heavy in the air, a sentence that felt like a blade slicing through your gut.

A part of you recoiled at the thought, refusing to believe it. Yet, as you stood there, something nagged at you, a whisper of doubt that you couldn’t shake. The realization that he might be right crept in like a shadow, darkening your thoughts. Stupidly, your heart leaped to defend Siwoo, the man you cared for, even as uncertainty gnawed at you.

“Mr. Kim, I don’t appreciate you assuming that,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared between the gap of Hongjoong’s legs that revealed the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You don’t know our relationship, so please do not accuse him of such acts…” you added, your tone a fragile mixture of firmness and vulnerability. As the words left your lips, you felt your eyes begin to well with tears, confusion and anger swirling within you. You trusted Siwoo; you had to. But the doubts Hongjoong had planted took root, and you didn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this.

You wanted to leave, to escape the charged atmosphere and the unsettling intimacy of the moment, but your feet remained stuck to the floor. Deep down, beneath the rising tide of panic, you recognized that you craved the odd comfort Hongjoong provided, a warmth that felt so different from the turmoil in your heart.

Suddenly, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that surprised you as tears began to cascade down your cheeks, dropping onto Hongjoong’s lap.

“Oh, baby…” Hongjoong cooed, his voice laced with a tenderness. You gasped at the sudden pet name. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his unoccupied hand reached toward your face, lifting your chin slightly so that he could wipe away the tears that streamed relentlessly down. Your eyes however, still refusing to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your heart raced at the intimacy of the moment.

“You defend him, yet you’re crying,” he observed, his voice low and soothing, but his words only added to the turmoil within you. It was as if he could see right through the facade you had tried to maintain. As his hand, previously resting on your waist, moved to the other side of your face, you felt the weight of his palms cupping your cheeks, an act of reassurance that both calmed and stirred your emotions.

“Look at me, Y/N” Hongjoong softly demands. Your pretty eyes look at him. Sparkling from the tears that are still streaming down your face slowly. Hongjoong bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure, though he couldn’t help but think how fucken pretty you look when you cried… how vulnerable.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he continued, his tone tender yet firm. “It was unprofessional of me. I was just trying to express my concerns.” His fingers brushed against your skin as he gently cupped your face, his thumbs softly stroking away the remnants of your tears. “I don’t want to see you cry anymore, okay?”

Confusion swirled within you, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. What was Hongjoong doing? His touch sent conflicting signals through your mind, making it hard to decipher the intentions behind his kindness. You felt your heart race as he held your gaze, searching for answers that remained elusive.

“Let me take you home. It’s getting late.” He reluctantly withdrew his hands, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Hongjoong lightly tapped your waist,

“Okay?” he asked again, his voice softening as he sought your approval. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes, those doe-like orbs filled with an innocence that belied the complexities of your situation. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching out as you found solace in his presence, even amidst the confusion.

———

The car glided smoothly along the quiet streets, the only sounds breaking the stillness were the gentle notes floating from the radio and the rhythmic tapping of Hongjoong’s fingers on the steering wheel. Each beat resonated with the unspoken tension lingering between you, a subtle backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind.

As the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, you felt a mix of relief and reluctance. The evening air was cool against your skin as you unbuckled your seatbelt and gathered your bags, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. It was a gesture of politeness, but it felt more like a shield, protecting you from the warmth of his soft smile that you could sense even without looking.

“No worries, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you Monday,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with an unshakeable confidence. You heard the warmth in his tone, even as you turned away and walked towards the entrance of your apartment building, his farewell echoing in your ears.

The elevator ride felt interminable as you ascended to your floor, each ding of the buttons amplifying the heaviness in your chest. Finally, you stepped into your small apartment, the familiar space offering little comfort. You dragged your feet toward your room, exhaustion pulling you down, both physically and emotionally.

Once inside, you kicked off your heels, the sharp clack against the floor a welcome relief. You stripped off your clothes with a mindless haste, leaving only your undergarments as you collapsed onto your bed. The cool sheets enveloped you, but they couldn’t ease the confusion swirling in your thoughts.

With a deep, resigned sigh, you sank into the mattress, your mind replaying fragments of your conversation with Hongjoong.

In a moment of desperation, you reached for your phone, dialing Siwoo’s number. The ringing felt like an eternity, and when it went to voicemail, a knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at the clock—10 PM. Another attempt led to the same unyielding voicemail. Frustration filled within you, mixing with a pang of anxiety that settled in your chest.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The coolness of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of your thoughts. Slowly, memories of Hongjoong flooded your mind—his perfect figure leaning casually against the desk, his strong hand lingering on your arm, the gentle caress of his fingers against your face.

Your heart ached, not for Siwoo, but for Hongjoong. You suddenly craved his comforting and reassuring voice. His lingering touch on your skin. Your legs close together as you feel a wave of warmth between your thighs. Your hands moved down your soft skin, reaching towards your heat…

You gasp softly, shaking your head, trying to dismiss these feelings. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hongjoong is your Boss. And plus you have Siwoo. Your… loving boyfriend.

The weight of silence wraps around you like a thick fog, pressing down on your chest as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. You can’t shake the feeling that these spiraling thoughts. In frustration you convince yourself that you’re probably just deprived of touch from your significant other.

With sudden resolve, you push yourself up from the tangled sheets, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine, and head towards the bathroom. Turning on the water, you let your thoughts drown in the hot water. Making your way back to your room, you slowly dry off and change into pajamas.

As your head hits the pillow, a sense of calm envelops you, pulling you into a deep slumber. The world outside fades, and for the first time in ages, you allow yourself to drift away, hoping that tomorrow will bring a spark of connection back into your life.

———

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your home office. You’re working from home today, since Hongjoong isn’t in office on the weekends. You sat your desk with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, you let the aroma fill your senses, the rich, dark liquid fueling your focus as your fingers typing across the keyboard.

The rhythmic sound of your typing created a serene atmosphere until it was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the apartment door.

Setting your coffee down, you pushed back your chair and stood, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, you swung it open, and your heart dropped. Standing there, looking both sheepish and regretful, was Siwoo, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry for flaking out on you so many times,” he said with a fake pout.

A year ago, you would have melted at this display. You might have accepted his half-assed apology with a smile, the flowers a token of his remorse. But today, your mind raced with reminders of all the times he had done this before. The constant stand-ups, the empty promises, the fleeting moments of connection overshadowed by disappointment.

Your heart ached, not with the sweet pang of love but with the heavy weight of frustration. You stood there, staring at him, emotions swirling within you like a storm. Hurt and upset battled against the tenderness that still lingered for him. You could feel the walls you had carefully built in the past months tightening around you, whispering that this was a cycle you were tired of repeating.

But your heart, foolishly hopeful, betrayed you. Before you could think it through, you found yourself reaching for the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh blooms. Then, without a second thought, you pulled him into a tight embrace. As his arms wrapped around you, the familiar warmth flooded back, and you felt your resolve waver.

In that moment, you wanted to believe that this time would be different. Yet beneath the surface, a deeper ache throbbed—a desperate question lingered in your mind: why do you keep doing this to me?

As the hours unfolded, Siwoo settled into a chair across from your desk, his laptop open and papers scattered around him. The familiar hum of shared work surrounded you, a scene that once brought you joy. He would glance up occasionally, flashing you a smile that was meant to soothe the tension in the air. Yet, despite the comforting proximity, your heart was locked in a battle against the memories of hurt he had inflicted upon you.

You tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. Still, they lingered like unwelcome shadows, flitting in and out of your consciousness. Each time Siwoo laughed at something on his screen or leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a part of you wanted to bask in the moment, to let yourself feel the happiness he once brought. But the other part—a weary, wiser part—reminded you of the countless times he had let you down.

Your mind already flooded with so many issues, decided to remind you of last night’s conversation with Hongjoong—the way he spoke to you, his touch… The longing for deeper connections hung heavily on your mind, teasing you with confusion.

You caught Siwoo watching you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking through your reverie.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”

———

Throughout the day, with Siwoo at your side, a disquieting realization settled in your chest: you felt less like his girlfriend and more like a maid. He moved to lounge in your living room, casually asking for snacks and drinks while you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on your work. Each request chipped away at your patience, drawing a line between the intimate moments you once cherished and the mundane reality of this interaction.

Glancing over, you caught sight of him: relaxed, almost carefree, tapping away on his phone with a soft laugh escaping his lips. Maybe it was Hongjoong’s words playing tricks on you, but a knot twisted in your stomach as you watched Siwoo, feeling an unfamiliar ick wash over you. It felt as though he was taking advantage of your hospitality, oblivious to the growing frustration bubbling within you.

“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow some money?” Siwoo asked, his voice casual, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to chuckle at whatever amused him.

“May I ask why?” You replied softly, a frown creasing your brow as confusion settled in.

“I need to buy new materials for work. It’s required for all professors, and I’m just short by a few bucks,” he explained, his gaze still firmly fixed on his phone.

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Doesn’t the university cover materials for professors?”

“Mmm, not this time. Please?” he said, finally looking up at you, his irritating smile brightening his face as if he expected you to fold under the charm.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the tension in your chest tighten, but you nodded anyway, wiring him a sum that was likely more than he needed. Maybe it was an act of guilt or an old habit of wanting to keep the peace.

“Thanks, honey. You’re the best!” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The grin on his face widened as he returned to his phone, engrossed once more in whatever had captured his attention.

“Y—you’re leaving so soon?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, a mix of desperation and disappointment. “I’m almost done with work. Let’s have dinner…”

He turned to you, his expression unchanged. “Maybe another day, Y/N. I have to head back to the campus.”

With that, he walked out without a backward glance, leaving you standing there, a swirl of emotions crashing against one another. As the door clicked shut, the weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart, mingling with the irritation that had been building all day.

——

The weekend slipped away in a blur, its fleeting hours vanishing like sand through fingers. As you stepped into the office on Monday morning, you glanced around the workspace, filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the faint rustle of papers, and realized you wanted to be here. The thought of Hongjoong entered your mind unbidden. You couldn’t help but remember the conversations that had left you feeling confused but wanting more.

But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, chastising yourself. This wasn’t the time for daydreams. You were his secretary, bound by professional decorum. It was crucial to maintain composure, to focus on your tasks and responsibilities. After all, any semblance of personal feelings could only complicate matters.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing slightly from your desk as he entered his office, and you follow behind him. The air felt charged with unspoken tension, a remnant of the incident that had unfolded just days prior, a moment you both seemed to ignore.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Hongjoong replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he settled into his chair behind the desk. His eyes flickered momentarily to the iced Americano you had picked up for him earlier, the cool condensation glistening against the glass.

“What is the schedule for today?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, but you could sense the sharpness in his gaze as it remained fixed on you.

Clearing your throat, you began to relay the day’s itinerary, focusing intently on your notes. “We have the marketing meeting at ten, followed by the conference call with the investors at noon.” You spoke steadily, but your heart raced, memories of that night creeping back into your mind—a fleeting brush of his hands, the way his gaze had pierced through the façade of professionalism.

Hongjoong listened, nodding occasionally, but there was an air of distraction about him, too. He was acting as if nothing had happened, and you were determined to do the same, though it felt like walking a tightrope. You maintained your composure, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and professional as you continued.

His expression remained neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you. You stole a glance at him, noting how the light caught the edges of his features, the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him.

“And finally,” you added, pushing the memories further down, “we have a team meeting at four to discuss the new project timeline.”

As you finished, a heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of his drink being set down on the desk. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of the unacknowledged moment hanging in the air. “Thank you, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice smooth as he rose from his chair. The brief moment of gratitude hung in the air between you, creating a small, intimate space in an otherwise professional atmosphere. You bowed slightly in acknowledgment, the familiar gesture a part of your daily routine, before you turned on your heels, ready to leave the room.

“Wait a moment,” he called out just as you reached the door. You paused, your heart skipping a beat, then turned back to face him.

“Yes, sir?” you replied, your voice steady but your mind racing.

“How are you doing?” he asked, the question casual yet layered with an unexpected warmth. The simplicity of it took you aback, a small flicker of surprise igniting within you.

“I—I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.” You stumbled over your words slightly, an involuntary shyness creeping in. “How about you?” You returned the question out of politeness.

“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he replied, his soft smile breaking through the formalities and lighting up the room. “I’m doing fine as well.”

You nodded, the warmth of his expression lingering in the air as you took in the moment. “I’ll get back to my work then,” you said, turning once more to leave.

As you stepped out of his office, the door closing softly behind you, you made your way back to your desk, the echo of his words and that fleeting smile still resonating within you.

——

Once you stepped out of Hongjoong’s office, he sank back into his chair, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders as his thoughts turned inward, swirling around you. He couldn’t deny the fondness he felt. From the moment you had started working as his secretary, you had made it clear that you were in a serious relationship. He respected your loyalty, admired it even, but it didn’t erase the growing complexity of his own feelings for you.

As he gazed out the window, memories flooded back, particularly the recent lunch meeting on Friday. You had accompanied him at the last minute, and during the drive, when you admitted to him about your relationship struggles. The admission struck him deeply—he felt a flicker of triumph at your honesty, a selfish part of him celebrating. Yet, mingled with that spark was a simmering anger; the man you were with was clearly causing you distress.

After returning to the office, you took your promised hour break, and Hongjoong found himself drawn to the rooftop. He hadn’t intended to pry; he simply wanted to offer words of encouragement, to lift your spirits. But as he approached, he overheard your phone ring and the familiar cadence of your voice pick up the call. A sinking feeling took root in his stomach when he recognized the voice on the other end—Siwoo, your boyfriend.

He paused at the steel door, unable to resist the urge to listen. Siwoo’s breathless tone was unmistakable, the hurried speech revealing more than mere exertion from a workout. Hongjoong's heart raced as he deduced the truth— Any man would know, this was not the voice of a faithful partner. The realization struck him like a punch; this man had the audacity to take your call while clearly entangled in something inappropriate.

A rush of guilt washed over him as he retreated to his office, grappling with the anger that grew beneath the surface. How could someone hurt you, an innocent, kind, and beautiful person? He felt torn, wanting to protect you while recognizing the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.

In the hours that followed, a storm of thoughts brewed within him. It was reckless, perhaps, but the idea of bringing you into his office after hours began to take root. He wanted to voice his concerns casually. But when you began to softly cry, that’s when he felt the line blur. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your pretty doe-like eyes glistening with unshed tears— (fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like that).

Hongjoong pulled back from his reminiscent thoughts, deciding it was best to let you navigate this situation on your own. Maybe you would uncover the truth about Siwoo, perhaps the pieces would fall into place. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and as he sat in his office, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could contain his feelings, how much longer he could remain a silent observer to your heartache.

Fuck it? Hongjoong thought to himself. Siwoo deserves a taste of his own medicine.

Hongjoong scoffed to himself at his idea as he sipped on his coffee.

———

The workday unfolded in its usual rhythm, a blur of emails, calls, and the occasional paperwork that seemed to multiply by the hour. You navigated through the tasks with a practiced efficiency, though your mind occasionally drifted to the flurry of messages buzzing on your phone. Each notification from Siwoo felt like a weight pressing down on you, filled with meaningless apologies, and pleads to wire money for some other things, god knows what he needed it for.

With a deep breath, you made the decision to ignore his messages for now. You turned your focus back to your work, fingers typing over the keyboard, pouring your energy into the tasks at hand.

As you typed, the sound of footsteps drew your attention. You looked up to find Hongjoong standing before your desk, his presence commanding yet familiar. He had a way of drawing you in, and for a moment, the chaos of your personal life faded into the background.

“Miss Y/N, please come to my office after work hours,” he said, his tone smooth yet imbued with a seriousness that piqued your curiosity. He turned and strode into his office, leaving you with a flurry of thoughts.

“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him go.

With a sigh, you returned to your work, the clock ticking steadily toward the end of the day. Each keystroke felt heavier as the minutes dragged on, and the anticipation of your meeting with Hongjoong lingered like a sweet ache in your heart.

———

As the final colleagues trickled out of the building, the quiet hum of the office began to settle into an echo of solitude. You sighed as you recalled Hongjoong’s instructions. Straightening your buttoned blouse and smoothing down your skirt, you prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in his office.

You knocked softly, the sound barely breaking the silence.

“Come in,” Hongjoong’s voice resonated through the door. You opened it slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.

Hongjoong was seated at his desk, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms accentuated by a dark tie. The sight of him brought a swirl of emotions; he exuded an effortless charisma that both intimidated and drew you in.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said, your gaze fixed on the floor, an attempt to hide the mix of anxiety and curiosity swelling inside you.

“Yes, please come here, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm and low. As you approached him, the familiar sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor echoed in your mind, reminding you of the similar situation a few days ago in this very spot.

“Please, sit,” he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, positioning yourself at the edge, an instinctive reaction born from uncertainty.

Hongjoong rose from his chair and began to circle around the desk, a pen spinning effortlessly between his slender fingers. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, and it pulled your attention as you tried to read his expression.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, pausing for a moment, “you’re one of my smartest employees, correct?” His gaze remained focused elsewhere, a slight distance in his eyes.

“Th—thank you, sir. I—” you started, but his voice cut through your response.

“A person with an important job like yours requires a lot of skill, attentiveness… and have the ability assess the environment around the office, Correct?”

“Yes… that is correct, sir,” you replied quietly, maintaining eye contact,

“Would you agree that you have been lacking some of these skills, Y/N?” Hongjoong stopped infront of you, sitting at the edge of his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, revealing the strong veins that ran along his forearms, an unconscious display of his physicality that made your heart race.

“I—I haven’t noticed, sir. I apologize if I haven’t been performing well…” The words tumbled out, anxiety creeping in. Were you about to get fired? The thought sent a chill through you, and you mentally recoiled at the prospect of your life spiraling further down.

“I’m not going to fire you, Y/N,” he said, and your eyes widened in surprise; it was as if he had plucked the thought straight from your mind.

“I’m not really following this conversation, sir…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to fidget with your fingers in your lap, seeking any distraction from the mounting tension.

Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh, and suddenly he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, stepping toward you slowly. His strong arms landed on the armrests of your chair, effectively trapping you in place. He leaned in closer, the proximity forcing you to lean back into the seat, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden intimacy of the moment.

The air between you thickened. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the sharpness of his gaze holding you captive.

He scoffed, the corner of his lip turning into a smirk as he looked down. His eyes landed on the unbuttoned opening of your shirt. He sees your chest breathing up and down in anticipation. He looks up, gazes at your lips quickly before looking into your eyes.

“For someone so pretty and smart, you’re quite naive” He chuckles. A rush of heat seeps into your cheeks. You’re at a loss for words. You don’t know how to respond, so you opt to stay silent.

“Miss Y/N” Hongjoong says sternly in a soft voice.

“Yes, Sir?” You quietly reply back.

“Can you assess the environment in this office right now?” His voice is a whisper.

“U—Uhm…” you stutter, not knowing what to say. Hongjoong chuckles at your flustered expression.

“Let me give you a hint, Y/N” Hongjoong whispers and leans in closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm wave. Then, in a moment that felt both thrilling and terrifying, his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes widened in shock. This is wrong, a voice in your mind screamed. You shouldn’t be doing this. But as much as you tried to summon the strength to pull away, your body betrayed you.

His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle as they molded against yours, igniting a fire that swept through you. The worries around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in this unexpected moment. It felt as if time had stopped, your heartbeat loud in your ears, drowning out the rational thoughts that screamed for you to stop.

As he finally pulled away, the distance felt electric, charged with a lingering intimacy. His gaze searched yours, earnest and intense. “Do you understand now?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You nod slowly.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks softly as he looks at your plush lips. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. All you know is that you want whatever lingering feelings Hongjoong has bestowed on you. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t help but crave him.

In response to his question, You shake your head in protest. His thumb caresses your chin tilting your head to look up at him.

“Use your words baby.” Hongjoong’s voice is low as he stares into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Please… don’t stop sir.” You say quietly. Hongjoong smirks and pulls way from you. You look at him confused. His position is sat back onto the edge of his desk.

“Show me you want it too Y/N” He’s teasing you. Wanting to see how far you’re willing to go. Knowing that deep inside, as much as you want this you still feel a tiny ounce of guilt from being unfaithful to your partner. Regardless, You rise from the chair and make your way to Hongjoong. You position yourself between his legs that are slightly spread and place both your arms on his shoulders. You lean forward and kiss him. Hongjoong returns the kiss almost immediately. He can feel himself already growing hard as his lips move against yours. His hands are securely gripped onto your waist bringing you closer to him. He deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue over the bottom of your lip. In response your mouth opens as you release a whimper. Both of your tongues now move together skillfully, resulting in a moan from both of you. As the heated make-out session continues, you notice Hongjoong’s arm pushing away some papers and other items on the desk behind him.

Smoothly, Hongjoong moves your position, his strong arms swiftly carry your body onto the desk. You are now sat on top of the cold wood, arms wrapped around his neck, as he continued to devour your lips. You slightly pull back in attempt to catch your breath. You’re a panting mess, and so is he. Hongjoong however doesn’t want to stop. He pecks your lips, before leaving a trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your soft cheek, and finally to your slender neck. Shivers were sent throughout your body as Hongjoong left soft warm kisses on your neck.

“A—ah Sir…” you whimpered quietly. Hongjoong hummed in response as he began to leave opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, your skirt already slightly hiked up from him placing you on the desk moments ago. Revealing your exposed thighs, Hongjoong’s hands moved from knees, and traveled up your soft plush thighs, causing you to close them in an instinct, but his strong arms prevent you, keeping them open.

His lips trails up to your ear nibbles on your lobe before whispering softly, “I want you to say my name okay?” You nod in response.

His hands moved dangerously closer to your heat that was radiating from your exposed thighs, but he stops, he was teasing you. His hands caressed your inner thighs, not daring to move closer as he continued to kiss your neck and face. His lips found his way back to yours and takes it in softly.

You whimper against his mouth and he slowly pulls away.

“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is so soft, sending another heat wave down your body.

“Please… touch me, sir” you say sheepishly.

“I told you Y/N, I want you to say my name.” Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs tighten, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.

“H—Hongjoong…” your soft, angelic voice echoed in his ears as his name rolled off your tongue.

“Yeah baby?” He tries to hold back a groan, already so turned on by you calling his name.

“Hongjoong, touch me… please?” You plead with your doe eyes staring at him. Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your pretty, desperate face.

“Fuck, Y/N… you make me do stupid shit” He curses under his breath before devouring your lips once again.

This time, his hands finally touch your warm clothed pussy. You moan at his touch. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, creating a friction against the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck tighter. Moaning into his lips as he continues to rub you.

Unexpectedly, tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. Not in pain, not in discomfort, but in a frustrating pleasure.

“Hong—j-joong, stop teasing please” You whimper as he slightly pulls away. He looks at your face, tears slowly falling down. He smirks, “Mm such a dirty brat, crying for me…” He degrades you in a low tone.

His hands find the hem of your underwear, and he skillfully pulls them down. They rest at the ankles of your legs, stopped by your heels that restricted them from falling to the floor. Hongjoong’s left arm cradles your back, as his right hand pushes up your skirt more to reveal your bare wet pussy.

“Fuck… so wet already just from me kissing you, and barely touching you?” He teases you, even though he too is already so rock hard in his slacks, from just kissing and touching you.

His hand makes his way to your clit. The soft bud of his middle and ring finger gently rubs circles, causing you to hold back a moan. Skillfully, his fingers dip down to your entrance, not fully going inside you, just enough to collect your wet fluids, and bring them back up to your clit. He rubs it again, slowly picking up the pace.

Your right hand drops behind you as it land on the desk, supporting your weight. You slightly throw your head back and cover your mouth with your unoccupied arm trying to hide your moans.

“Let me fucken hear you moan baby. No one is here. Just you and me” Hongjoong groans in your ear. His voice turned you on so much, resulting in a soft moan slipping from your lips.

Hongjoong’s fingers make their way to your entrance. Slipping in your tight folds. You gasp and grab onto his shoulder. He pumps his fingers slowly, as he studies your facial expressions. Your eyes are sparkling from the previous tears you shed. Your glossy lips slightly parted as you released soft moans.

“So fucken pretty” Hongjoong moans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. The gentle gesture, mixed with his lewd actions makes your stomach turn in a good way. He begins to pick up the pace. The office room is silent, with only the sounds of your mixed moans, pants, and the wetness of your folds fapping against Hongjoong’s hand.

Your mind begins to get fuzzy as you feel an orgasm near by. Hongjoong feels your pussy tighten around his digits, he chuckles before he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You whine in protest, frustration builds up in you, you were so close. Your arm around his neck tugs him closer, reaching for his lips, wanting to feel some sort of physical contact. But he pulls away from you. Completely. He steps back and looks at your figure.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, an unsettling knot tightening in your stomach. Why did he stop? Just moments ago, the air had felt charged with lust, and now it hung heavy with an unspoken tension. A flood of negative thoughts surged through your mind, drowning out any remnants of clarity. Embarrassment crept in, a heat rising to your cheeks, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Guilt wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, its weight almost suffocating. You could feel the sting of tears pooling in your eyes, the familiar ache of despair threatening to spill over. In a swift, instinctive motion, you cast your gaze downward, as if to shield yourself from the world around you. Your heart raced as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.

Hongjoong watches you as you softly cry. He tries not to loose his composure. The cute look of confusion on your face makes him feral.

“Aww baby… why are you crying hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy. He tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your flushed face. You can’t find yourself to respond, only sniffles and soft whimpers can be heard.

“You know… to be completely honest Y/N…” the sound of Hongjoong’s belt unbuckling fills the air. You glance at him with your doe eyes.

“When I told you… I don’t want to see you cry anymore…” He slings his belt off his pants and drops it to the floor. His hands moving towards the button of his slacks. He shifts towards your body, and leans close to your face.

“I actually meant… I don’t want to see you cry for anyone else but me.” Your eyes widen at his statement. He chuckles at your expression and grabs your hands. He brings them towards his hard mound covered by the soft fabric of his pants.

“You look so fucken pretty when you cry. It turns me on so much. Knowing that you feel so good, you can’t help but shed a few tears” He moans as you begin to instinctively rub your hands on his huge hard on.

“Help me out baby. Be a good girl” Hongjoong whispers to you, and you nod. He smiles at your response. You make your way off the desk, and position yourself on your knees. You slowly unzip Hongjoong’s pants and pull them down along with his trousers. His hard, long cock springs out and softly hits your face. You gasp at the sudden sight. Earning a chuckle from him.

“Open your mouth.” He demands softly. Your lips part, tongue slightly sticking out, as you take Hongjoong’s length in. He releases a loud groan. Cursing under his breath as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down. You twirl your tongue a few times over his tip, causing him to tightly grip onto your soft hair.

“F—Fuck baby…” Hongjoong throws his head back.

“… damn, your boyfriend is this lucky and can’t even fucken appreciate you” You freeze at the sudden statement, and Hongjoong smirks as he scoffs. In response, he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You moan on his cock as he begins to shove himself deeper into your mouth. You tap Hongjoong’s leg, and he pulls you off him instantly. You gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to his cock, as you begin to cough. Hongjoong chuckles, caressing your hair.

“Stand up” He demands. And in an instant you’re on your feet. Hongjoong swiftly lifts you up and places you back onto the desk. His hands are hastily unbuttoning your blouse as he kisses your lips. You moan, furrowing your brows, still thinking about the humiliating statement Hongjoong said. Something about his touch is so intoxicating, making you want more. Making you not care about anything in your reality.

As Hongjoong releases the last button on your blouse, he quickly pushes your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra filled by your perfect plush breasts. His hands grace over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses the exposed skin of your breast. His hands moving towards the straps, as he pulls them off. He reaches behind you and skillfully releases the clasps of your bra. The black lace drops swiftly revealing your perfect boobs.

“So fucken perfect for me baby.” Hongjoong whispers as he gropes them with his hands. You moan at his touch. He takes one in his mouth and laps at your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“H—Hongjoong” you moan his name, he hums in response, still working on your breasts.

“Want.. m—more” you stutter under his touch.

He pulls away from you and pants, trying to calm himself down.

“Want more what?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. You pout, too embarrassed to verbally say what you want from him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll leave you here” Hongjoong threatens as he begins to pump himself, already knowing what you want. But he still wants to hear the words from your mouth.

“I want… you inside me… please?” You whimper in embarrassment. You look at him and you see a spark of excitement in his eyes as he smirks at you.

“Atta girl. Wasn’t so hard to say right?” He teases you as he brings himself closer to your pussy. Your breath increases as he places his tip right at the entrance. He only inserts his head before pulling out, repeating the gesture a few times. You whine as a tear falls from your eyes.

“Quit being a fucken brat” Hongjoong hisses at you bringing a gentle hand to your face as he wipes the tear away. Finally, He pushes his whole length inside you, earning a loud yelp from you. His cock instantly hits your sensitive spot and you cling onto his arms. He pauses inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. You’re definitely not used to his large length and thick girth, he’s stretching you out so good.

“Damn baby, you’re so tight? Your boyfriend isn’t big enough huh?” Hongjoong snickers at you. You whine at the sudden mention of your boyfriend again. It’s like he wants to remind you of him on purpose. To humiliate you. Hongjoong begins a slow pace inside you. Grunting as he moves against you.

“Answer me…” he demands, his hand cups your chin to force your gaze on him.

“H—he isn’t big enough. Y—you’re bigger Hongjoong…” You moan as he thrusts deeper.

“You… make me feel s—so good” You close your eyes as you take in the pleasure running through your body. Hongjoong manically smiles. Ecstatic at your response.

“Yeah?” He teases. Picking up his pace. The sound of your sweet moans heighten, the wet sounds of you two slapping against each other fill the room along with Hongjoong’s dirty words.

“Bet you, he doesn’t fuck you this good huh? Look at you. A fucken mess on my cock.”

“N-no! He doesn’t.” You whine, another wave of tears begin to fall from your eyes. The overstimulation of Hongjoong pumping into you along with his degrading words overwhelms you. You don’t want to admit it, but you fucken love this. Your body is enjoying every fucken moment of this dirty, lewd affair.

“F-Fuucckk” Hongjoong moans loudly. “Look at me while you cry, baby. Let me see that pretty face” you listen to him without hesitation. Your eyes locking with his. You feel yourself closer to reaching your high. Until you’re both interrupted with a sudden ringing.

You both turn your heads to the chair you sat on when you first entered Hongjoong’s office. The sight of your bright phone screen illuminates the dim room.

*Siwoo <3 is Calling*

Your heart drops at the name. Anxiety suddenly filling your body, replacing the pleasure you felt before. Hongjoong notices and smirks at you. He reaches over and grabs your phone.

“Answer it.” He demands. You shake your head no.

“I said fucken answer it. Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don’t be a fucken brat now. Do you want me to stop?” Hongjoong’s words are harsh. You instantly shake your head in protest of him stopping.

“Then fucken answer it” Hongjoong shoves the phone towards you.

You hesitate as you grab the phone from his hands and click the green button. You bring the phone to your ear, but Hongjoong pulls your wrist, and clicks on the speaker button. He cocks his head at you, signaling you to continue,

“H-Hello? Siwoo?” You begin. Hongjoong resumes his pace. Fucking you in and out.

“Hey Honey. What are you doing?” Siwoo’s voice is calm, in contrast to what you’re feeling right now.

“A-Ah.. I’m j-just finishing up some w-work” You stutter as you try to keep your composure. Hongjoong makes it harder for you as he begins to lick your neck.

“You’re still at work?” Siwoo questions.

“M—mm, Yeah. Don’t worry. I—I’ll be home soon” You bite your lip trying to contain a moan.

“You okay Y/N? why do you keep stuttering?” Siwoo’s voices a concern.

“I—i’m okay. I-I just don’t feel too well. I think it’s a stomach tic” You bluff, trying to find an excuse.

“You don’t feel well? Shall I come pick you up from work-?” Siwoo suggests

“No!” You cut him off. You curse to yourself. Hongjoong smiles against a your neck and softly bites it as he continues fucking you senseless.

“Oh- okay then. Just be careful. take some medicine” You roll your eyes. (why the fuck does Siwoo decide to be sweet right now out of all days?) You mentally say to yourself.

“Y-yes I will…” You reply softly.

“Anyways, did you see my text? can you wire me some money?” Siwoo asks nonchalantly. You scoff, earning a vocalized chuckle from Hongjoong. Your eyes widen as you pull him closer to your neck, trying to muffle his laughter. You bite your lip, in hopes Siwoo didn’t hear anything.

“S—sorry, Siwoo. I don’t get paid till this Friday.” you manage to get out.

“Aww please? just a few bucks” Siwoo whines. In annoyance, you roll your eyes once again.

“Siwoo, I—I can’t. I have to go” You quickly hang up the call and throw your phone down. Hongjoong detaches from your neck and chuckles before attacking your lips. His pace begins to pick up. He holds onto your waist for support and you hold him closer. Hongjoong pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours.

“Does he take care of you? or do you take care of him?” He teases as he tries to hold back a laugh.

“S—Shut up” You moan in response. Hongjoong thrusts hard into you, earning a loud yelp from you.

“Someone’s suddenly mouthy?” Hongjoong’s hand grips onto your chin as he lightly taps your cheek.

“F—Fuck” You moan as he shoves himself inside you, with long and deep strokes.

Hongjoong then suddenly pulls out of you. Not wanting to waste any time, he lifts you off the desk and flips you over. Your front is pushed onto the cold wood, and he pulls your hips higher. Your forearms hoist yourself for support as you feel Hongjoong enter you once again. His hands grip under your skirt pushing them up towards your waist, giving him a perfect view of your ass. He mentally curses to himself as he watches your butt bounce on his cock at a constant pace. He brings his hand down to caress it before raising it and bringing it back down in a hard, but pleasurable slap. You yelp in response, eyes widen at the sudden contact.

“Such a fucken naughty girl. Fucking your boss, when you have a boyfriend” Hongjoong degrades you as his hand makes contact with your ass again. You whimper at the stinging sensation. Your tears fall onto the papers infront of you.

“Who fucks you better baby?” Hongjoong pants as his speed increases. “Me or Siwoo? Hm?” He asks again taking you in deeper.

“A—Ahhhh~ You, Hongjoong.” You sniffle your tears , “Hongjoong fucks me better!” You scream as his pace becomes sloppy. Hongjoong hears your crying whimpers and quickly turns you around to face him. Your body now lays flat on his desk as he pumps into you.

“Yeah? bet I can be better lover than him too” Hongjoong confesses as he smashes his lips onto yours. Your heart clenches at his statement. A sudden wave of orgasm hits you. Your pussy tightens around him as you come undone. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you release a loud moan. Your face buried in his chest, as he continues to fuck you and chase his high. Hongjoong’s thrust become sloppy, and quickly pulls out of you.

“Let me cum on your pretty face” He hastily demands. You quickly move towards his lower body and he pumps himself quickly on you. Hongjoong looks at your sparkly doe eyes, and bites his lips. His warm thick load releases into your face, along with a loud grunt from his mouth. You gasp as the feeling of the strings of cum landing on your soft skin. Your mouth instinctively opens,

“F—Fuckkk baby” Hongjoong hisses as he continues to pump more of his load onto your tongue.

The office room is filled with the sounds of you and Hongjoong panting, trying to catch your breath. The room reeks of sex. Your eyes are still locked on his. His white cum painted on your face and mouth. Without any other choice, you close your mouth and swallow his bittersweet cum.

“Fuck” Hongjoong whispers under his breath. He caresses your hair and reaches over his desk to grab a few tissue papers. Hongjoong wipes your face gently and kisses your forehead.

"Let me clean you up down there,"

Hongjoong whispered, his voice a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to linger in

the air between you. The earlier intensity of steamy sex had left a palpable tension, but now, a gentle calm enveloped the room. His eyes, once aflame with desire, were now filled with a warmth that reassured you, reminding you of the caring side he often showed.

After the whirlwind of passion, Hongjoong's demeanor had transformed completely. The fire that had ignited between you both settled into a tender glow as he moved closer, his presence both comforting and protective. With a steady hand, he reached for another tissue, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he began to clean you up. The touch was careful and deliberate, as if he were trying to convey his affection through each gentle motion.

You felt a mix of vulnerability and warmth wash over you, grateful for the way he approached this moment. It was as though he understood the importance of transitioning from the intensity of physical connection to something more nurturing and intimate. You appreciated how he took his time, ensuring that you felt cared for, both emotionally and physically. As you two began to help each other back into your clothing, you couldn’t ignore the lingering feelings.

“I’ll take you home” Hongjoong smiles gently at you and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. You nod and follow behind him out of his office. As he approached your desk, Hongjoong gathered your bags. You instinctively reached out to grab them, but he gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Let me handle this,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. With that, he took the lead, guiding you toward his car.

As you followed behind, your legs felt wobbly, you could sense him glancing back occasionally, ensuring you were still keeping up.

At the car, he paused, opening the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. You slid into the seat. He placed your bags in the back with care, then turned to you, his demeanor softening as he reached for his spare coat. With a fluid motion, he draped it over your shoulders, its warmth enveloping you like a comforting hug.

“Hongjoong—” you started, the silence stretching between you, but he raised a hand to quiet you.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to say anything. Just rest,” he said gently. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

The drive home was silent. The hum of the engine a lullaby in the stillness of the night. You fought to keep your eyes open, fatigue clawing at you, but each passing moment, tried to invite you to surrender to the drowsiness. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, signaling at you from your drowsy haze. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was already gazing at you.

“Y/N…” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “I meant what I said when I told you I can be a better lover than Siwoo.” The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “He doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who truly values you.” His eyes held a raw intensity as he continued, “I don’t think I can go on without you knowing that I’ve always wanted you for myself.”

His sudden confession took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless. The air around you felt charged, and you could hardly process the emotions swirling within you.

“Let me prove to you that I will love you better. Please, Y/N,” he urged, his gaze earnest and imploring. The vulnerability he displayed was a stark contrast to what he portrayed in the office just moments ago. This was a side of him that revealed his deep feelings, and it struck a chord within you.

Your heart raced as you absorbed his words, the truth of them resonating deep inside. You had long felt the magnetic pull toward him, the warmth in his presence that made you feel seen in a way Siwoo never had. You realized in that moment that you, too, wanted to love him—fully and unreservedly.

Compelled by a rush of emotion, you leaned in closer, the space between you evaporating. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a hesitant exploration that quickly deepened as he responded. His hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he pulled you in, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Fuck- if you kiss me like that I might take you right here again” Hongjoong chuckles against your lips. And you giggle in response. However, his expression falls down.

“Y/N… I should tell you that Siwoo has been cheating on you.” Hongjoong sighs as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Who’s Siwoo?” You joke trying to mask your disappointment of him mentioning your now ex. “Y/N, I know I initiated an affair while you are dating him too but, you needed to know.” Hongjoong states in a serious tone.

“I know, Hongjoong.” You say softly. “I figured after our conversation we had on Friday, when he came over to my house the next day. I guess my naive self chose to ignore it… I messaged him earlier when we got to the car that I’m over with him. I’m no longer his.” You look at Hongjoong as he studies your face.

“So… does this mean you’re mine?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. You softly smile and shrug your shoulders. Hongjoong smirks at you and in an instant unbuckles his seat belt and exits the car. He makes his way to the passenger door and opens it. Swiftly, he lifts your body and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp in response and he carries you towards his house.

“You drove us to your house?!” You exclaim as you giggle over his shoulder.

“Let me remind you again who you really belong to” Hongjoong chuckles as he playfully slaps your ass and quickly makes his way through the doors of his home.

Pt. 2 (updated 10/21)

Author’s commentary: Should I do a sequel? 👀. I had way more ideas for this story but decided to cut it short LOLLL. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy😝 feel free to fangirl in my comment section/ ask box🤭.

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