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inkmonster21 · 12 days ago

Text

I Don’t Play Anymore

Series Masterlist

Warning: SMUT

A Dinner for Winnners

As you wake up, you're pleasantly surprised to find the Frontman, unmasked and casually passing through the room. You take a moment to admire the sight, sitting up in bed as he heads towards his closet. There's something oddly comforting about his presence, even in these moments of silence, that makes your emotions flutter with a mix of content and anticipation.

"Good morning," he replies, his voice filled with a gentle tone and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The simple exchange between you two carries a sense of ease and familiarity, despite the tension from the night before. He continues to move around the room, gathering his things.

As you stand, the night dress reaches mid-thigh, showcasing your smooth and softly toned legs as you rise to your feet. The soft fabric hugs your curves, revealing more without trying, adding an element of sensuality to your movements.

You stroll past In-Ho, your night dress elegantly swishing around you, and make your way into the bathroom. The gentle sway of your hips adds a subtle, yet undeniable, sensuality to your movements, capturing In-Ho's attention for a moment as you disappear into the bathroom.

As you walk past, In-Ho gazes at you, his eyes unable to resist following your every move. The gentle sway of your hips catches his attention, causing a subtle smirk to play at the corners of his mouth. He can't help but appreciate the elegant way you move, his own emotions stirred by your presence.

As you enter the bathroom, you reflect on the events of the previous night and the actions you took in pursuit of your desires. The memory of your desperate act plays on your mind, and you feel a mix of vulnerability and curiosity.

Returning from the bathroom, you bring up the incident, feeling the need to address it. "And last night," you say, your tone carrying a hint of vulnerability, "sorry for the act of desperation."

In-Ho smirks at your apology, his tone filled with amusement and a subtle understanding. He appreciates your effort and doesn't dismiss it as mere desperation. "Don't be," he responds, a playful glint in his eyes. "I enjoyed your little act. If that's what you want to call it." His words convey an admiration for your boldness, a hint of appreciation for the way you expressed yourself and pursued what you wanted.

As you stand in the kitchen, watching In-Ho approach, you can't help but notice the subtle change in the atmosphere. You flash a smirk, ready to engage in another round of verbal banter. "What would you call it then?" you ask, the corners of your mouth curling up in a playful and teasing gesture. The smirk on your face adds a layer of challenge to the conversation, as you await his response.

In-Ho takes a step forward, his movements are deliberate yet smooth as he closes the distance between you two, "I would call it... alluring curiosity. Or perhaps, seductive determination.” The proximity is palpable, the air growing thick with tension. He positions himself in front of you, effectively trapping you against the counter, a gentle yet deliberate move that leaves your heart racing and your body on edge. His presence is a mix of dominance and an underlying sense of protection.

With a hint of mystery and anticipation, In-Ho suggests, "But we can discuss it over dinner." The promise of conversation and the opportunity to delve deeper into the events and emotions of the night before fills the air. There's a blend of intrigue and subtle excitement in his tone. Despite his controlled demeanor, there's a sense of anticipation and anticipation in his gaze as he awaits your response.

As you raise an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and mild surprise in your expression, you respond, "Dinner?" The idea of spending more time with In-Ho, potentially discussing the events of the night before, fills the air with a mix of anticipation and hesitation. You consider the proposition, the promise of conversation, and a shared meal adding a layer of intrigue to the situation.

In-Ho looks at you with a mixture of reassurance and challenge, his tone carrying a hint of confidence. He understands your hesitation and is eager to persuade you.

"Dinner," he repeats, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "just the two of us," he says, his tone both inviting and filled with the subtle suggestion of a promise for more.

In response to In-Ho, you offer a silent nod, signaling your agreement to his invitation to dinner. The decision hangs in the air, and a mix of anticipation and uncertainty settles in your mind. The idea of dining with In-Ho, away from the complexities of the arena, holds a certain mystique and carries the potential for something meaningful.

In-Ho leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, the brief touch conveying a mix of tenderness and familiarity. As he pulls away, he can't help but smirk, his voice oozing with a hint of amusement. "Now look who's speechless," he says, his tone playfully teasing, highlighting the shift in your usually confident demeanor. In-Ho steps back, creating some space between you, and you can almost feel the electric tension still lingering in the air.

The moment hangs in the air, the silence thick with unspoken words and the underlying undercurrent of anticipation. The kiss and his brief comment seem to add another layer of mystery to the dynamic. You can't help but wonder what the coming evening will bring and what answers or secrets will surface during this shared dinner.

With a confident and almost devious smirk, In-Ho walks toward the elevator, his movements purposeful and self-assured. As he dons his mask, the intricate mask that usually shields his identity adding a layer of mystery, he turns back to you and poses a question, "I'll see you down there,” He poses it more as a statement, his tone carrying both confidence and anticipation. He seems satisfied with how the conversation has unfolded, confident that his words and actions have left an impression, and he prepares to step into the elevator, ready for whatever awaits him downstairs.

The moment the elevator doors slide shut behind In-Ho, you are left standing in the silence of the room, a mix of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Despite knowing next to nothing about him and having only just met, it feels as though you've known each other for much longer than the current timeline. This realization adds a layer of complexity and depth to the situation, further fueling the whirlwind of emotions that has consumed your heart and mind.

As you make your choice of outfit, you select a short black dress that exudes confidence and style. The material clings to your curves, accentuating your figure and adding an element of sophistication to your appearance. You slip on tights to add an extra touch of allure and complete the ensemble with a pair of heels to elevate your stature. As you glance at yourself in the mirror, the look is complete, and the smirk on your lips speaks of a newfound sense of purpose.

With a satisfied smile, you admire your reflection in the mirror, the black dress hugging your curves and emphasizing your features. The tights add an element of sophistication and allure, while the heels bring an extra touch of height, elevating both your attitude and your physical presence. You feel a surge of confidence coursing through your veins, knowing that you're ready to make an impression.

With a final glance in the mirror, you adjust your mask, the elaborate gems covering your features, and step into the elevator. The doors close, the silence of the elevator providing a brief moment for reflection as you prepare for what's ahead.

As you walk out of the elevator and approach the Frontman, your movements carry a graceful and purposeful elegance. You saunter towards him, the heels clicking softly against the floor, adding to the air of confidence and allure.

The room is buzzing with activity, phone lines incessantly ringing, and each call is answered with a varied greeting. Your brow raises in surprise, and you inquire with curiosity, "The players are calling back already?" Your question hangs in the air, reflecting both surprise and a hint of unease as the weight of the situation sets in.

The Frontman looks up, his eyes locking with yours, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "It would appear so," he responds calmly, his tone betraying an underlying sense of authority and control. The ongoing phone calls and the buzz of activity in the room create a sense of urgency and purpose.

As the phone rings you ask, “Can I answer?” The guard glances at you, surprised by your request to answer the phone. There's a brief moment of hesitation before he nods, reluctantly handing over the phone to you. "Yes, Miss," he offers, his tone revealing a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

As you pick up the phone, you adopt a tired and groggy voice, pretending that the call has woken you from your slumber. You sound as if you've just been abruptly roused from sleep, adding a hint of authenticity to your performance. "Hello?" you reply, your tone weary and exhausted, as if you've been pulled out of a sound sleep.

The male voice on the other end of the line sounds somewhat surprised by your response, pausing momentarily before asking his question. "Hello, yes, sorry for bothering you. Uh, my bad," he begins, a hint of hesitation in his voice before getting to the point. "Um, would you mind if I ask you something?"

Amid the conversation, you narrow your eyes, fully immersing yourself in the role of the disgruntled person waking up in the middle of the night. Your voice carries a hint of annoyance as you respond, "Who is this?" The tone of your voice conveys a mix of confusion and irritation as if you're still half-asleep and not entirely awake.

The man on the other end of the line stammers and struggles to form words, clearly uncomfortable and apologetic for the early hour of his call. He manages to articulate his request, "Well, I, uh... sorry to call so early. Could I come to play those games there?"

The question is laced with a mix of uncertainty and a hint of desperation.

As you hold the phone, your smirk lingers on your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. The Frontman watches you closely, his expression unreadable but interested in your response. You respond into the phone with a feigned tone of confusion, speaking with a mixture of sleepiness and genuine curiosity, "Games?"

“Uh, yeah. See, games are my thing, you know. I'll play all the games you ask me to. I'll do the best--“ The man's words are met with a pause, and you cut him off, “Hold on.”

The Frontman directs the guard to trace the number. You watch intently as the live call feed appears, revealing the man calling from the police station. Your tone shifts dramatically, filled with a mix of annoyance and anger as you snap into the phone, "Why are you calling me with this nonsense? If you want to play games go to an internet cafe, you pervert!" The words escape your lips with a mix of frustration and finality, your tone sharp and unwavering.

The Frontman, ever the astute and vigilant, listens intently to the unfolding situation. He swiftly issues a directive to the guard, "Keep track of that surveillance," he commands, his tone calm and authoritative. There's a sense of urgency and concern in his command, as he makes it clear that he wishes to keep tabs on the unfolding events at the police station through the surveillance feed.

In the midst of the intense and charged conversation, you abruptly change the topic with a mischievous smirk, shifting the focus of the conversation as you bring up the matter of the tour. Your voice takes on an air of mock curiosity and a hint of challenge. "You know, I haven't been given an official tour yet," you comment with a playful lilt in your voice, the words leaving your lips in a mix of sarcasm and genuine inquiry.

“Would you like me to take her, sir!” The guard's offer to take you on the tour catches the Frontman's attention, and a subtle smirk plays at the corners of his lips as he declines the offer. Without diverting his gaze from you, he responds with a firm tone, "No," his voice carries a hint of decision. His answer is short and direct, conveying his intention to keep you under his close supervision for the time being.

As the tension in the room increases, the Frontman steps in, issuing a command to the guard in a calm and collected tone. His words carried authority and a strong sense of control over the situation. "Keep monitoring the calls," he instructs the guard. "Block the number when the call back rate reaches the 90th percentile."

With a confident and controlled movement, the Frontman gestures for you to walk ahead, allowing you to lead the way. His actions and demeanor exude a sense of politeness, yet there's an underlying aura of authority that hangs in the air. As you move forward toward the doors, he remains behind you, following closely, his gaze fixed on you, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

As you walk, the click-clack of your heels echoes in the empty hallway, he gives a simple direction, "Take a left," his voice holding a subtle touch of command. His words carry a mix of expectation and intrigue, as he guides you through the maze of corridors.

With his guidance, you make a sharp left turn, your footsteps now echoing in the hallway as you continue on the path laid out by the Frontman's instructions. The clack of your heels against the floor adds a rhythmic undertone to the silence, echoing your movement and the growing tension between you.

The air was thick with anticipation as you stepped through two large doors, sand crumpled under your heels. This was one of the many sets for the games, a large playground, complete with colorful equipment, designed to entice and deceive its players.

You giggled softly behind your mask as you glanced at the large creations. In-Ho had leaned into this little game of yours, a private tour of the game rooms. He loved to watch you tease and tempt, and you couldn't resist the opportunity to do so.

"Welcome to the playground," The Frontman's deep and commanding voice resonates through the air, carrying a captivating charisma that sends shivers down your spine. His warm breath brushes against your ear, the closeness sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. As his mask, elegant in its sleek design, conceals his face, you can't help but feel the intensity of his gaze locked on you. "What do you think?" His question lingers in the air, the weight of his presence pressing down upon you, demanding your attention and response.

Your eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint as you turn to face him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. Your fingers trail along the lapel of his jacket, the smoothness of the fabric beneath your touch sending a shiver of anticipation through your fingertips. Your voice oozes with charm as you utter the seductive words, “I'd much rather play with you.” Your gaze meets his, a mix of daring and invitation in your eyes, as you challenge him to indulge in the playful game you have in mind.

The Frontman's deep, throaty chuckle reverberates through the air, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His words, "This is just the beginning of the tour. I have so much more to show you," echo in your ears, laden with a tantalizing promise. With a gentle yet firm grasp of your wrist, his touch sends an electric jolt through your body, awakening the nerves beneath your skin. His confidence and assurance are palpable as he hints at the joys that lie ahead. You feel drawn to him, your curiosity and interest piqued by his assurance of an enjoyable experience.

Despite the tension in the air, you feel an undeniable spark of anticipation as you stand side by side with him in the elevator. The door closes with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the private space, a palpable sense of seclusion and intimacy settling around you.

With a voice that barely reaches a whisper, you share a tantalizing secret, the words slipping from your lips as if meant for his ears alone. "You know," your voice laden with sultry allure, "if I would’ve known you were going to come into the bedroom this morning, I would’ve slept naked." Your confession hangs in the air, a seductive challenge that tempts him to let go of his restraint.

As the tension between you escalates, he moves closer, closing the distance between your bodies. His desire for a kiss is palpable, his hands tightening around your waist, the grip holding you against the wall. The pressure of his touch threatens to unravel the delicate fabric of your dress, the gloves clinging to the material. The weight of his presence presses into you, the air charged with an undeniable intensity.

Your gaze fixed on him, a hint of a mischievous smile plays at the corner of your lips. You wanted him, desperately craving the taste of his kiss again. The thoughts of him consume your mind since you woke up, the memories of the previous night fueling your desires. The air between you crackles with a mixture of lust and anticipation.

The moment is suddenly shattered as the elevator doors slide open, revealing your father standing there, frozen in shock. His presence is an unexpected interruption, breaking the heated tension between you and the Frontman. Your heart skips a beat, caught in a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

With a swift and fluid movement, the Frontman steps away from you, his composure quickly returning. Your father remains stunned, his gaze fixed on the two of you, his mouth slightly agape. Your eyes widen as you meet his gaze, the surprise evident on your features. The awkwardness hangs in the air like a heavy blanket, the unexpected moment leaving everyone momentarily speechless.

With a calculated step, your father steps into the elevator, his gaze still fixed on you and the Frontman. The atmosphere inside the elevator has shifted from one of intimacy to one of discomfort with the sudden intrusion. The tension lingers, swirling around you all, the unspoken questions and emotions filling the air. The Frontman remains composed, his mask concealing his true feelings, while your mind races to find the appropriate words to break the silence.

As your father steps into the elevator, you respond with a polite greeting, your voice carrying a subtle hint of formality. "Good afternoon, Father," you utter, your tone laced with a mixture of caution and politeness. The air in the elevator feels charged, the tension lingering in the space between you all. Your heart races as you try to gauge your father's reaction to the unexpected encounter. Anticipation hangs in the air, making the silence seemingly deafening.

Your father glances at you with a knowing smile, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Seems that way, doesn't it?" His words carry a double entendre, leaving room for interpretation. The look in his eyes suggests that he is teasing you about the situation, while his subtle smirk implies that he may have more on his mind than he's letting on. The atmosphere is laden with a mix of tension and anticipation as you consider the hidden meaning behind his remark.

Your father breaks the tension with a hearty laugh and a friendly pat on the Frontman's shoulder. His words, loaded with a mix of humor and casualness, help to diffuse the awkward moment. "Don't be so serious!" he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. His actions showcase a desire to make light of the situation and move past any lingering awkwardness.

Your father steps out of the elevator on his designated floor, and directs you with a firm tone, "Come with me." His words are laced with a sense of urgency and authority, compelling you to follow him. With a polite nod to the Frontman, he adds, "Won’t keep her long. Promise." Your heart races as you step out of the elevator, unsure of what your father has planned. The anticipation builds as you follow him, your thoughts swirling with curiosity and apprehension about the upcoming conversation.

You follow your father into the dining hall, your steps echoing softly on the polished floor. He takes a seat at the table and gestures for you to do the same, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. "Sit," he commands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. You take your seat, your senses on high alert, as you prepare for the conversation that is about to unfold. The atmosphere is heavy with anticipation, the weight of the unspoken words weighing down upon you.

"I can explain," you assert, your voice carrying a calm and composed tone. The words hang in the air, a subtle hint of the weight of the situation. You take a deep breath, preparing to offer an explanation for the unexpected encounter in the elevator. The tension in the air is palpable, as if the very atmosphere holds its breath, waiting for your next words.

The atmosphere in the room changes as your father waves a hand and speaks with a hint of sarcasm. "I'd rather you not. Just don't fuck it up." His smile takes on a slightly mocking tone, his words carrying a subtle jab at your understanding of the situation.

The anticipation in the room mounts as your father boasts, "Why didn't I think if it?" His words carry a certain arrogance, fueled by the excitement of seizing control. He sees the potential in your encounter with the Frontman as a means to achieve dominance over both games. His ambition is evident in the boldness of his statement, his confidence in your ability to succeed. Your mind races, wrestling with the implications of his plan and the consequences it may bring.

With a firm and resolute voice, you respond, "I'm not interested in taking over the games here." Your words carry a sense of determination, making it clear that you have no desire to pursue your father's ambitious plan. You stand your ground, asserting your independence and refusing to be swayed by his ambitions. Your father's gaze lingers on you, his expression shifting from anticipation to surprise at your unexpected response. The air crackles with tension as you brace yourself for his reaction.

Your father's response is immediate, his words dripping with contempt. "Oh? So then what is all that? A little plea of desperation? Pathetic." His tone is laden with hostility and scorn, as he openly criticizes your actions. The harshness of his words cuts through the air, leaving an unpleasant atmosphere in their wake. Your heart skips a beat, the sting of his insult lingering in your mind as you struggle to find the right response.

Your father's words cut deep, "Just when I thought you'd impress me." The disappointment in his words is evident, his expectations hanging heavily in the air between you. The weight of his dissatisfaction presses down upon you, his gaze piercing through your armor. You feel a mixture of resentment and regret, knowing that you have failed to meet his lofty standards.

The dam of suppressed anger within you begins to crack, the pressure of your father's constant attempts to control your life becoming unbearable. The frustration builds, fueled by years of feeling stifled and smothered by his influence. His words only serve to ignite the fire inside you, the anger bubbling up like molten lava. You struggle to maintain composure, your hands clenching tightly at your sides, as you attempt to contain the mounting fury.

Your thoughts swirl with a dark suggestion - the idea of harming your own father. It's an impulse born from frustration and anger, a manifestation of the deep-seated desire to break free from his oppressive control. The thought is shocking, yet oddly compelling, as if it could provide a sense of liberation and freedom from his tyranny.

Your father's dismissive tone cuts through the air, his words loaded with an air of superiority. "Anything else?" he asks, not bothering to look at you. The lack of eye contact serves only to reinforce the distance and detachment he has created between you. The weight of his indifference feels heavy, adding to the emotional burden you already carry. Your heart sinks, the hope for acknowledgment or connection dashed by his cold demeanor.

As you turn to leave and head towards the elevator, a surprise awaits you. The elevator doors open, and to your astonishment, the Frontman stands there, having not left. Your heart skips a beat, a mix of disbelief and anticipation coursing through your veins. You stand there, momentarily caught off guard by his unexpected presence.

The doors close, sealing you in the elevator with the Frontman. His voice, calm and authoritative, fills the air as he orders, "You go back to the suite, relax. Dinner will be served at 8." The command is clear, and the moment feels like a stark contrast to the intense conversation you just had with your father.

The tension quickly melts away as the Frontman leans closer, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. "I have a special night planned, just for you," he divulges, his words sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The promise of a night filled with something unique and intimate hangs in the air, stirring a mix of excitement and curiosity within you.

You retreated to the luxurious suite, indulging in moments of tranquility. After a revitalizing shower, you slip into a floor-length dress, the fabric soft and smooth against your skin. You meticulously apply your makeup, each brushstroke adding to your allure. The heels you step into complete the elegant ensemble, adding an extra allure to your appearance. With all the preparations done, you take a seat and wait patiently, allowing anticipation to build within you.

With a final approving glance in the mirror, you slip the mask on, the cool metal settling against your face. As you hear the movement outside the bedroom, a mix of anticipation and nerves swirl within you. You take a steadying breath and prepare yourself, your mind focused on the night to come.

Three uniformed Circle Guards busily arrange the table, their movements efficient and precise. The aroma of a mouthwatering meal fills the air, its tempting scent permeating your senses. The table is meticulously set, complete with fine china and silverware, each piece in its designated place. You watch as they prepare the table, your appetite growing with each passing moment.

At precisely 8 o'clock, as though on cue, the elevator doors slide open, and the Frontman strides into the suite. With a graceful and commanding presence, he enters the space, his eyes momentarily pausing to observe you. Then, almost without a word, the three guards dutifully exit the room, leaving you alone with the Frontman. The door closes behind them, sealing the two of you in intimate seclusion.

You remove your mask with a smirk, your words carrying a tone of satisfaction and admiration. "Well, you certainly don't disappoint," you comment, your gaze lingering on him. The absence of the mask reveals your face, and his eyes rake over you, taking in every detail. He returns your smirk with a subtle smile of his own, seemingly pleased by your compliment.

With deliberate slowness, the Frontman removes his mask, his movements calculated and unhurried. The feeling that comes over you is unique, a delicate mix of anticipation and hesitation. The sight of his face, concealed for so long, reveals a man who is handsome and enigmatic. The absence of the mask adds a new layer of intimacy to the moment, as if he is allowing you to see a side of him that is rare and precious.

A smile plays on your lips as you utter, "There he is," your words carrying a note of admiration. As the Frontman fully reveals himself, you are struck by his striking handsome features. The sight of him unmasked stirs a sense of awe within you, his ruggedly masculine appeal all the more potent without the mask.

The Frontman's smirk and the subtle touch of his bare fingers on the small of your back send a tingling sensation coursing through you. With a graceful gesture, he pulls out your chair, allowing you to sit comfortably before taking his own seat across from you at the table. His presence is both dominant and attentive, creating an atmosphere charged with intensity.

The Frontman's voice, a soft and velvety whisper, brushes against the sensitive skin of your neck. His words, "You look breathtaking," carry a genuine quality, their sincerity evident in the cadence of his tone. As he gently pushes your chair in, the proximity between you feels intimate and sensual, the moment heavy with unspoken desires and emotions.

The Frontman effortlessly maneuvers around the table, his movements fluid and confident. With practiced elegance, he takes his seat across from you, the flickering candlelight illuminating his features. His gaze locks onto you, his expression a mix of admiration and desire. In that moment, the world around you seems to fade into the background, replaced only by the undeniable chemistry between the two of you.

As you partake in the lavish meal presented before you, every bite is a symphony of flavors, a sensual experience for your taste buds. The conversation between you remains minimal, the atmosphere filled with an inexplicable tension, a magnetic pull that keeps the two of you entranced in each other's presence. The clinking of silverware and the soft music playing in the background serve as subtle background melodies to your intimate encounter.

Despite the delicious meal and the pleasant atmosphere, a different kind of hunger stirs within you. It is a hunger not for food, but for him - a desire to be closer, to feel his touch, to connect on a deeper level. As you steal glances at him, your gaze filled with both admiration and longing, your thoughts are consumed by the need for closeness and intimacy. The air around you seems to crackle with unspoken tension, the hunger for his presence growing stronger to overwhelming.

Your words, "I think you should do it," leave your lips with an air of confidence, and a subtle smirk playing on your features. The implication behind your words is clear, and the Frontman's eyes darken momentarily as he absorbs your meaning. He leans forward slightly, his gaze locked on you, as if considering the implications of your statement. There's a sense of anticipation in the air, both of you keenly aware of the electricity that crackles between you.

The Frontman's question hangs in the air, his voice carrying a note of feigned innocence. "Do what?" he repeats, his gaze locked onto you, as he dares you to elaborate. His tone is playful, yet there's a hint of anticipation in his eyes, as if he knows exactly what you're hinting at. The space between you feels charged with a growing tension, both of you keenly aware of the mounting desire that lingers just beneath the surface.

Your response is direct and unequivocal, “Me," you say, your voice steady and filled with confidence. The meaning behind your words is unmistakably clear, the desire and intent evident in your tone. In-Ho’s breath hitches momentarily, his eyes darkening further with a mixture of surprise and hunger. The atmosphere between you thickens, the tension becoming almost unbearable.

With a deliberate, almost predatory grace, the Frontman rises from his seat, his movements measured and purposeful. As he approaches you, there's an undeniable current of power and dominance radiating from him. He sinks gracefully to his knees in front of your chair, the position submissive and yet brimming with a primal energy that makes your heart race. In that moment, you find yourself the object of his intense gaze, a feeling both thrilling and slightly unnerving.

In-Ho knelt before you, his hands began to gently caress your thighs. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You leaned back, letting your dress ride up, exposing your bare thighs to his touch. "Show me," you challenged, your voice steady despite the arousal coursing through your veins.

In-Ho's fingers trailed upwards, his touch feather-light as he explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You shivered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers inched closer to the core of your desire. He paused, his eyes meeting yours, seeking permission. "Yes," you whispered, your voice hoarse with need. "Touch me."

His fingers slid effortlessly under your dress, finding the damp silk of your panties. With slow, deliberate movements, he stroked your folds, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. His touch was firm yet gentle, and you couldn't help but arch your back, pressing yourself into his hand.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I want to taste you."

Before you could respond, he hooked his fingers under your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. You felt a rush of excitement at the thought of being on display for him, your body on fire with anticipation.

In-Ho leaned forward, his breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "You're beautiful," he said, his voice reverent. You spread your legs wider, inviting him in. He needed no further encouragement. His tongue darted out, tracing the length of your slit, teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasped, your hands gripping the couch cushions as pleasure rippled through your body.

In-Ho's mouth was a masterpiece of pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy with devotion. He sucked on your clit, drawing it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, sending you spiraling towards ecstasy. You couldn't hold back your moans, each one a testament to the pleasure he was delivering.

"Oh, In-Ho," you cried out, your hips bucking against his face. "Don't stop, please!"

He seemed to take your plea as a challenge, redoubling his efforts. His tongue delved deep inside you, exploring every crevice, while his fingers continued to work their magic on your clit. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt your orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure ready to crash over you.

"I'm going to come," you warned, your voice breathless.

In-Ho's response was to increase the pace, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers working in perfect harmony. You cried out, your body convulsing as the orgasm swept through you, wave after wave of pleasure leaving you trembling and sated.

In-Ho slowly pulled away, his face glistening with your essence. He smiled, satisfaction and desire mingling in his dark eyes. "That was just the beginning," he promised. You felt a rush of power, knowing you had brought this powerful man to his knees with your pleasure. You wanted more, and you wanted to give him the same satisfaction.

"My turn," you said, your voice laced with determination.

In-Ho stood, his erection straining against his pants, a testament to his desire. You reached out, unbuckling his belt with practiced ease. He helped you by shrugging out of his suit jacket, revealing a muscular chest that you couldn't wait to explore. You pushed him gently onto the couch, his eyes burning with anticipation. You knelt before him, mirroring his earlier position. His cock strained towards you, thick and heavy, the head glistening with pre-cum.

"You're so hard," you whispered, running your fingers along the length of his shaft. He groaned, his hands clenching the cushions as you took him into your mouth, sucking gently at first, then increasing the pace as you became more confident. You swirled your tongue around the head, tasting his salty essence, and relished the sounds of his pleasure.

"Fuck, that feels incredible," he growled, his hands now buried in your hair, guiding your movements. You took him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate his length. His hands tightened in your hair, and you knew he was close. You increased the suction, hollowing your cheeks, and stroked the base of his shaft with your hand, determined to bring him to the brink.

In-Ho's hips bucked off the couch, his body tensing as he climaxed. He filled your mouth with his hot cum, and you savored the taste of him, swallowing every drop.

"You are… fantastic," he said, his voice hoarse as he pulled you up for a passionate kiss.

You kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips, and felt the heat between you intensify. He lifted you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist, and carried you towards the bedroom, where the rest of the night promised even more erotic adventures.

As you disappeared into the bedroom, you couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. You had finally given in to your desires, and the night was just beginning. The tension between you and In-Ho had been released, but the anticipation of what was to come only heightened your arousal. You knew this was just the first chapter in a story of unbridled passion and pleasure.

Tagged:

@jspidey5

@mrsyixingunicorn10

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