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cloudtransprncy · 4 months ago

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Just The Tip

AESPA Winter X Male Reader | 3700 words

"Just the tip," you whisper, knowing damn well that once she feels you stretching her open, there’s no turning back.

Tags: Choking, light restraint, dom/sub undertones, unprotected sex, creampie, forced quiet, risk of getting caught, slight dub-con elements

Your mouth is on hers, hungry, demanding, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes her lips. Your tongue pushes past her teeth, claiming her, tasting her, making her whimper into your mouth. Fuck, she tastes good—like the wine from dinner and something sweeter, something that's just her.

You don't know how it got to this.

But does it even matter at this point?

Winter is beneath you, wide-eyed, breath uneven, her body already betraying her. The cabin air is thick with the scent of pine and summer heat, but all you can focus on is her—how she's splayed out beneath you on the bed, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from your kisses, parted like she's about to say something but keeps swallowing the words before they can form. Her body is warm, soft where you hold her, a contrast to the sharp tension crackling between you both, something unspoken but undeniable.

Your sister is just down the hall.

Your parents are in the next room over, sleeping, completely unaware of what's happening—what's about to happen. The thought should stop you. It should make you hesitate, reconsider, anything.

It doesn't. It just makes your cock harder, the forbidden nature of it all making your blood run hotter.

Her messy bun is coming undone, strands of blonde slipping loose around her face, framing the flush creeping up her cheeks. Her pendant—the tiny, delicate one she never takes off—catches the moonlight from the window, rising and falling with every uneven breath. The long sleeves of her shirt are pushed up, bunched at her elbows, fabric soft and slightly wrinkled from where your hands have gripped at her.

You slide your hands up her sides, pushing her shirt up to reveal the taut skin of her abdomen. She shivers as the cool air hits her exposed flesh, muscles flexing beneath your touch. You can't tear your eyes away from how her stomach tightens with each ragged breath, the way her ribs show just slightly beneath soft skin. She flinches, a half-hearted attempt to cover herself, but you pin her wrists above her head with one hand.

"Let me look at you," you growl, and she bites her lip, torn between wanting to hide and wanting to be seen.

"We really shouldn't," she whispers, but her back arches subtly, her body contradicting her words. "What if someone hears?"

You push the shirt higher until her bra is exposed—simple, cotton, nothing fancy, but the way her tits strain against the fabric makes your mouth water. You can see her nipples hardening, pressing against the thin material. You lower your head, dragging your tongue across one peak through the fabric, feeling it tighten further. She arches into your mouth, a choked sound escaping her lips.

"Shhh," you warn, your free hand sliding down between her legs where she's completely bare and already dripping. "You gotta be quiet, baby."

"Oh god," she whimpers, trying to press her thighs together but failing against your strength. "You're so much bigger than I thought you'd be."

Your cock presses against her entrance, heavy, throbbing. Just the tip, nothing more—just enough to feel the way she's slick, hot, inviting. You can barely breathe from how much you want her, from how close you are to ruining this moment, this fragile hesitation that's keeping her from pushing you away.

She whispers, "We shouldn't." Her voice breaks on the second word, trembling with both desire and doubt. "We can't. It's wrong."

Her body doesn't pull back, but her eyes dart nervously toward the door. Her hips stay tilted just so, thighs trembling as if they're fighting to close but can't bring themselves to do it. If anyone wakes up, if someone hears, this doesn't just become a mistake—it becomes something you can't take back.

"You're so fucking wet," you murmur against her ear, your fingers sliding through her folds, gathering her slick before bringing it to your mouth. You suck your fingers clean, watching her eyes widen at the obscene display. "Taste so good I could eat you for hours."

"No, don't," she protests weakly, but her hips betray her, rocking against your hand. "That's so filthy." Yet her breath catches, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "But I need it."

Your voice drops lower, teasing, thick with a promise you both know you won't keep. "It's okay. Just the tip."

A flicker of hesitation. A sharp inhale. Her hands flutter against your grip, testing your hold. But she doesn't say no.

You press forward just a little, and the second your cock pushes past her entrance, her entire body tightens beneath you. She's so fucking tight, her cunt stretching around you in slow, pulsing resistance before yielding, letting you sink just that much deeper. You both gasp, sharp and shallow. Her nails dig into your arm, her fingers curling, but she doesn't push you away—doesn't tell you to stop.

"It's too big," she whines, her head thrashing slightly on the pillow. "I can't—you won't fit. Oh god, you're stretching me so much."

Her breath catches in her throat, a whimper that she tries to swallow down, but you hear it anyway. Feel it, in the way her thighs tremble beneath your hands—bare, smooth, but not completely.

She's shaved, but there's a faint prickle under your palm, the softest roughness just beginning to grow back. It's subtle, just enough to feel, just enough to remind you that this is real, that she's real, naked beneath you, trembling, wet.

"Your pussy's so tight," you whisper, and her eyes roll back slightly at your words. Her pendant shifts against her collarbone as she swallows hard. "Been thinking about fucking you for so long."

"We shouldn't," she says again, more desperate now. "We can't do this. We—" but her words dissolve into a soft moan as you push in another inch. "Oh fuck, you're going to ruin me."

You bring your fingers to her throat, thumb brushing against the delicate skin there. Not squeezing. Not yet. Just a warning. A reminder that she can stop this at any moment.

She doesn't.

"This is wrong," she whispers, but her body arches into your touch, contradicting her words. Her pussy clenches around your tip, like she's trying to pull you deeper. "But I need it so bad. Need you inside me."

Her thighs tense, muscles fluttering beneath your grip. But you keep her pinned down, spread open, locked in place beneath you. The pendant around her neck dangles slightly, catching the dim cabin light, shifting with every shallow breath she takes.

"Just the tip," you murmur again, voice thick, coaxing.

But you both know that's a lie.

She shifts—just a little, a reflex, a reaction—but it's enough. Enough for your cock to slide in another inch, enough for the tight heat of her to wrap around you just a little more, enough for both of you to feel the moment restraint snaps and neither of you can turn back.

She's dripping, soaking you, slick gathering at the base of your cock where you've barely even pushed in. Your length drags against her folds, spreading the warmth of her arousal, and fuck, she's so wet you can feel it running down your balls, making everything that much harder to control.

"Fuck…" she breathes, the word slipping out on a strangled gasp, barely audible. She bites down on her lip, hard, as if that will stop another sound from escaping. As if it will stop the truth from settling between you.

"Tell me to stop."

The words hang in the thick air, heavy, offering an out she won't take.

Silence. Then, almost imperceptibly, she shakes her head. "Don't stop," she whispers, the admission clearly costing her. Her fingers clutch at your arms, digging in, anchoring herself to you. "I need it. Need you to fill me up."

You exhale slowly, press her thighs down against her body, locking her in place, keeping her open for you. You can see where your cock is splitting her open, stretching her tight little pussy, and the sight almost makes you lose it right there.

But for a moment, everything slows down. You slide your hand up to cup her cheek instead. Her skin is flushed hot against your palm. You hold her there, making her look at you, forcing her to meet your gaze as you hover above her. Your eyes lock, and something passes between you—something raw and honest that strips away all pretense. Her pupils are blown wide, leaving just a thin ring of color, and you can see everything in them—the want, the fear, the surrender.

"Winter," you whisper, just her name, nothing more. Your thumb traces her bottom lip, still swollen from your kisses. She trembles beneath your touch, vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with being naked.

"I shouldn't want this," she confesses, voice so quiet you almost don't hear it. "But I do. I want it so much. Want you inside me. Want you to cum in me."

Her lashes flutter, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. You move your hand back to her throat, just enough pressure to make her gasp, just enough to watch her lips part in something between a plea and surrender. Her pulse flutters against your palm, frantic, but she doesn't try to stop you. The pendant at her throat taps against your wrist with every thundering heartbeat.

The fabric of her long-sleeve shirt is bunched at her wrists now, twisted from where she's been gripping the sheets, knuckles white. Your hand leaves her throat to slide between your bodies, finding her clit with your thumb, circling the swollen bud.

"You knew this was gonna happen."

Her lips part again, and this time, she doesn't argue.

The moment you bottom out, it's over.

Winter's hands fly to your wrist, nails sinking deep into your skin, not to push you away but to hold on, to ground herself against the overwhelming stretch of you inside her. She's gasping, barely breathing, each ragged inhale broken by the weight of your grip around her throat. Her pulse thrums beneath your fingers, frantic, erratic, like a trapped bird.

"Oh god," she cries out, too loud in the quiet cabin. "You're too big. You're stretching me too much."

"You can take it," you murmur, voice thick with lust, pressing deeper, grinding your hips down until she whimpers. Her pussy stretches around you, tight and slick, gripping your cock like it was made for you. Her body trembles beneath you, chest rising unevenly, legs twitching where you've pinned them open. "Fuck, you're taking my cock so well."

"Please," she begs, though what she's begging for isn't clear even to her. Her hands push weakly against your chest, but her hips keep rocking, seeking more. "It hurts but don't stop, please don't stop."

Your free hand slides up her body, finding her breast through the thin fabric of her shirt. You can feel her nipple harden under your palm as you squeeze, rough enough to make her gasp. The cotton barrier is frustrating, but there's something filthy about having her half-dressed like this, completely bare from the waist down, cock buried deep while her shirt still clings to her upper body.

"Should've torn this off you," you growl, bunching the fabric of her shirt in your fist, tugging it up to expose more of her. "Wanna see these tits bounce while I fuck you."

"No, someone might see," she protests, even as she arches her back, pressing her breast more firmly into your hand. "Someone might hear us."

The bed creaks. You freeze.

Your sister is asleep just down the hall. Your parents are in the next room. If anyone hears—

But then Winter clenches around you, fluttering, pulsing, already too fucked out to care. Her walls squeeze so tight it's dizzying, the slick heat of her drawing you in, making it impossible to think about anything else. Her eyes are glazed over, lips parted, cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure she can't hide.

You loosen your grip on her throat, letting her take in a desperate gulp of air—only to tighten your fingers again the moment a sound escapes her lips. A muffled moan, cut off as her lashes flutter, as her body jolts beneath you. The sight of her struggling for breath, completely at your mercy, makes your cock throb inside her.

"Shhh." Your warning comes with a twist of your hips that makes her eyes roll back.

She nods frantically, eyes wet with unshed tears, body twitching in your grip, obedient even as she shakes. A whimper escapes her, too loud in the quiet room, and she slaps her own hand over her mouth, biting down on her fingers to keep quiet.

"I can't be quiet," she whispers desperately against her fingers. "It feels too good. You're too deep."

You pull her hand away, replacing it with two of your own fingers, pushing them between her lips. "Suck," you command in a harsh whisper. She obeys immediately, tongue swirling around your digits, eyes locked on yours as she hollows her cheeks. It's obscene, the way her mouth works around your fingers while her pussy grips your cock. You push them deeper, making her take them to the knuckle, watching her throat work as she struggles not to gag.

"Such a dirty girl," you whisper. "Acting all innocent then taking my cock like you were made for it."

You don't slow down. If anything, you make it worse for her—slow, deep thrusts, dragging every inch through the mess between her thighs, keeping her on edge, making sure she feels every second of it. You can feel your cock dragging against that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk.

She reaches for you suddenly, hands clutching at your shoulders, nails digging in as she pulls you closer. Her legs wrap around your waist, changing the angle, taking you even deeper. The new position has you hitting something that makes her bite down hard on your fingers, her body shuddering beneath you.

You pull your fingers from her mouth, tracing the wet digits down her chin, her throat, between her breasts, leaving a glistening trail on her skin. "You like that?" you ask, adjusting your hips again, making sure to hit that same spot. "Right there?"

"Yes," she admits shamefully, her resistance crumbling. "Fuck me harder. Please. I need it deeper."

She nods frantically, eyes wide, desperate. Her hands move to your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you down until your foreheads touch. You're sharing breath now, mouths close enough to kiss but not quite touching. You can feel every gasp, every whimper.

"I shouldn't want this," she confesses in a broken whisper. "Shouldn't want your cum. Shouldn't want you to knock me up. But I do. I want it so fucking bad."

The intimacy of it almost breaks you. You pull back slightly, shifting your attention to where your bodies join. You hook one of her legs over your arm, opening her wider, changing the angle again. The sight of your cock disappearing into her, slick and glistening with her arousal, has you transfixed.

"Look at how well you take me," you say, voice strained, slowing your pace to make her feel every inch. "So fucking perfect."

"It's too much," she whines, even as her hips chase yours. "Too big. You're ruining me for anyone else."

She's too sensitive, too overwhelmed, but you don't stop. She's past the point of being able to resist, past the point of pulling away. Her pussy is making obscene wet sounds with every thrust, so fucking soaked that it's running down the curve of her ass, staining the sheets beneath you both.

Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and slippery, and the moment you touch it, her whole body jerks like she's been shocked. You circle it slowly, deliberately, feeling how it pulses under your touch.

"Please," she whispers, the word barely audible, her first real plea since this started. You're not sure if she's begging you to stop or continue, and you don't care. You press down harder on her clit, rubbing faster, matching the rhythm of your thrusts.

"God—" she breathes, barely able to form words, her mouth struggling to work. "It's so—so deep. Your cock is so big. I can feel you in my stomach." Her voice is like crushed velvet, hushed and broken. Her pendant swings with each thrust, catching the light in hypnotic flashes.

Her hands grip your arms now, holding on for stability as you pick up the pace. The rhythm changes from slow and deep to something more urgent, more primal. Her breathing quickens, shallow and ragged, little puffs of air against your face.

"I can't—" she gasps, her words cut off by a particularly deep thrust. "I'm getting close." The admission is almost shameful, whispered like a secret against your neck. "Please, I need to cum on your cock."

You press her thighs wider, holding them open with bruising force. The position lets you watch everything—the way her stomach tenses with each thrust, how her breasts bounce slightly beneath her shirt, the way your cock stretches her open, the slick mess of her arousal coating both of you.

"I said just the tip," you taunt, voice rough with exertion, with need. "Look at you now. Taking every fucking inch."

"I know," she whimpers, shame and arousal mixing in her voice. "I'm such a slut for you. Can't help it. Need your cock so bad."

Her whimpers turn into silent screams, mouth open, lips trembling, thighs quivering beneath your grip. She's too far gone, helpless to stop what's coming, unable to do anything but take it. Your fingers are soaked with her arousal as you work her clit, switching between gentle circles and firm pressure, watching how each touch makes her react differently.

She's so close. You can feel it in the way her pussy tightens around you, in the desperate, broken sounds she's trying not to make. Her breathing becomes erratic, shallow, her entire body tensing beneath you.

"I'm gonna cum," she whimpers, the words barely audible. "Please, please don't stop. Fill me up. Want your cum so bad. Want you to breed me." Her confession makes your cock throb, the desperation in her voice pushing you closer to your own edge.

She grabs your wrist where you're working her clit, not to stop you but to press your fingers harder against her. Her eyes are pleading, desperate, silently begging for release. You give her what she wants, increasing the pressure, circling faster, feeling her body wind tighter and tighter.

"Gonna fill this tight little pussy," you whisper against her ear, biting down on her earlobe. "Gonna pump you so full you'll feel me for days. Put a baby in you."

The words make her clench around you again, her pussy gripping your cock like she's trying to milk it. She's right on the edge, teetering, about to break. Her nails dig into your back, dragging down, marking you as thoroughly as you're marking her.

"Cum for me, right now." The order comes as a growl against her ear, rough, absolute. You punctuate the command by grinding against her clit, circling it with your thumb as you thrust deeper, harder.

"Shit! I'm cumming," she cries out, too loud, beyond caring who might hear. "You're making me cum on your big cock. Oh god, I'm cumming!"

Her body seizes, back arching off the bed, legs trembling violently, a choked gasp escaping as she shatters beneath you. Her orgasm takes her apart, raw and violent, the aftershocks making her sob. Her pussy clamps down on your cock like a vise, pulsing, milking you, pulling you deeper. Her pendant swings wildly against her throat, catching the light with each convulsion of her body.

But you don't stop.

You keep working her clit through it, relentless, forcing her higher even as she tries to twist away from the overwhelming sensation. Your fingers are merciless, pushing her past what she can handle, turning her orgasm into something that seems endless, wave after wave crashing through her.

"That's it," you encourage, watching her fall apart. "Take it. Fucking take it. Take my cum."

"Breed me," she begs, completely lost to the pleasure. "Fill me up. Make me yours. Please, please, please."

She's still cumming when you bury yourself deep, when you push so far inside it's almost painful, when you spill into her, hot and thick, filling her up, leaving her ruined beneath you. You can feel your cum pumping into her, your cock twitching with each pulse, her body taking everything you give her.

Your fingers finally ease off her clit, letting her come down from the intensity. You trace lazy circles on her inner thigh instead, feeling the way she twitches with aftershocks, sensitive and spent.

Neither of you move.

The only sound is the ragged pace of your breathing, the soft, wet tremble of her body as she twitches through the last waves of it. The weight of what just happened settling over both of you. The evidence of it already spilling between her legs, a mixture of her slick and your cum dripping onto the sheets.

It was reckless. Dangerous. The filthiest thing you've ever done—fucking her with your family just rooms away, the constant threat of discovery making every sensation sharper, every touch more electric. The memory of her body yielding to yours, taking you so deep, of her desperate attempts to stay quiet as you ruined her—it's all seared into your mind.

A floorboard creaks in the hallway.

You both freeze, eyes wide, bodies still joined, the reality of what you've done crashing over you like ice water.

And it's far from over.

#malereader #cloudtrnsprncy #cloudtsmut #kpop smut #winter x reader #aespa winter

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jupiterpilgrim · 6 months ago

Text

Swallow the Pill

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x Male Reader

word count: 17K

The duffle bag is halfway zipped when your phone buzzes on the dresser. You glance over, one hand on a folded towel, already thinking it’s the group chat. Maybe they’re early, maybe someone forgot sunscreen—typical. Instead, the name “Winter” flashes on the screen. The towel drops from your hand as you frown at it.

Winter...

You haven’t heard from her in a few days, not since that weirdly intimate coffee date where she’d kept looking at you like you hung the moon. Cute, sure, but intense. A little too much. You two weren’t even a thing. A couple of drunken makeouts at parties, a handful of late-night texts, and maybe one date that leaned dangerously into feelings territory. That’s it.

Her message is short and loaded:

"Hey, are you busy?"

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a second. You start typing.

"Kinda. Packing for the beach. What's up?"

The reply comes back fast, like she was waiting for you to answer.

"I’m sick. Really sick. Can you come over?"

You squint at the screen, reading the message twice. Sick? What the hell? You fire back.

"What do you mean sick? Like hospital sick? Are you okay?"

She sends an emoji—one of those pitiful, droopy ones—then another message:

"No hospital. Just the flu or something. I feel awful. Need help."

It takes a second for it to sink in. She must be joking. You stare at the phone, genuinely confused. She has friends, right? Family? Someone closer to her than the guy she’s hooked up with two or three times?

You type:

"Why me? Don’t you have someone else? Friends? Relatives? A neighbor?"

The response is instant:

"Everyone’s busy. And you’re close.

Please, daddy."

Your stomach lurches at the word. She called you that last time you were together too, whispered it in your ear with a grin, like she knew exactly how to get under your skin. You run a hand down your face and reply:

"Don’t call me that."

"Sorry. Please, though. I’m really sick. Can’t even get out of bed. Just need a little favor."

She adds a sad face this time, really driving it home. You stare at your duffle bag, then back at the phone, then back at the duffle.

You’re not her boyfriend. You’re not even really sure what you are. A fling? A pastime? The guy who texts back at 2 a.m.? And yet, there’s this strange pull. The idea of her alone in her apartment, small and helpless, buried under blankets, sniffling. It needles at you.

You type one last message:

"What exactly do you need me to do?"

Her reply is shameless.

"Take care of me. Bring some meds or soup or something. I’ll owe you big."

You know you should say no. You know you should zip the bag, throw it over your shoulder, and walk out the door to meet your friends. But something makes you hesitate.

Is it guilt? Curiosity? Some twisted sense of responsibility for this girl you don’t even know that well? You sigh, tapping out your final surrender.

"Fine. Be there soon."

You throw the duffle bag in the closet. Goodbye, beach. Goodbye, carefree weekend of sun and booze and forgetting your responsibilities.

Winter, you think, had better be worth it.

—

The plastic bags rustle against your leg as you climb the stairs to Winter’s apartment, the fucking elevator is being fixed, and it gives you more time to think about what exactly you're doing. You should have just told her to order delivery. Or called one of her real friends. Or just—anything but this. But here you are, with cold medicine, snacks, and a pint of strawberry ice cream you’re pretty sure she likes because she mentioned it that one time when you were half-listening.

Her messages played through your head the whole drive over. Fever. Headache. Sneezing. She hadn’t sounded dramatic—just miserable enough to guilt you into dropping your plans.

Her door is slightly ajar, probably because she didn’t want to get up to let you in. You knock anyway, a couple of quick raps, and her voice floats out, soft and faint.

“Come in!”

You push the door open and step inside. The place is small, tidy, and unmistakably her. Neutral tones with little bursts of pastel here and there. A fluffy pink throw draped over a beige couch. A single framed photo of a seaside sunset on the wall. It smells faintly of lavender, like one of those candles she’s probably obsessed with.

And there she is, sprawled on the couch, wrapped in the thinnest blanket imaginable. She’s wearing this oversized long-sleeve shirt that probably hits mid-thigh. Her dyed-blonde hair’s a bit of a mess, and her cheeks are faintly flushed. She looks like some kind of sickly cherub, both pitiful and oddly… attractive in her vulnerability.

“Hey,” you say, unsure where to stand, so you hover awkwardly by the door. “How’re you feeling?”

She shifts, sitting up just a little, her voice soft and nasal. “So-so. Better now that you’re here, though.”

You ignore the flutter of something in your chest and hold up the bag. “I got some stuff. Medicine. Snacks. Ice cream, too.”

That perks her up. Her eyes brighten a little. “Ice cream?”

You mumble something barely audible, already heading to her tiny kitchenette. “Yeah. Strawberry. Figured it’d help with the sore throat or whatever.”

She murmurs a soft “thank you” as you stash the pint in her freezer, then return to the living room. You glance around for a place to put the rest of the stuff and end up dumping it on her coffee table. She looks at you with those big, tired eyes, and you feel like you’ve just handed over some priceless treasure instead of a few basics.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she says quietly, though there’s a small, pleased smile tugging at her lips.

“Well, I’m here now,” you reply, shrugging. Then, unable to help yourself, you add, “Though it’s a shame it’s under these circumstances.”

Her lips quirk. “Yeah. I was the one missing you, and this is what I get. Karma’s cruel, huh?”

You kneel beside the couch, reaching out almost automatically to check her temperature the old-fashioned way. The back of your hand brushes her forehead, warm but not alarming. Her skin is smooth, softer than you’d expected.

“Doesn’t feel like much of a fever,” you say, trying to sound neutral.

“It’s mild,” she admits, leaning into your hand slightly like it’s instinct. “But I still feel awful. Weak. Kinda lightheaded.”

“Mm.” You pull your hand back, studying her for a moment. “Have you eaten anything today?”

She hesitates, her gaze sliding to the side. That’s answer enough.

“Of course not,” you mutter, exasperated but not surprised. “All right. Medicine first, then you’re eating something. I didn’t give up my beach weekend to watch you wither away on this couch.”

Her laugh is soft and a little hoarse, but it’s there. “You’re bossy. I like it.”

You don’t bother replying, already rummaging through the bag for the cold meds. She watches you the whole time, a small, lazy smile on her lips. It’s like she knows something you don’t, and for some reason, that makes you a little nervous.

You pull a pill packet out of the bag and pop one free, holding it out for her like you’re a nurse on shift. She looks up at you, her nose scrunched. “What is it?”

“Magic,” you deadpan, before grabbing the nearest glass off her coffee table, rinsing it in the sink, and filling it with water. You return and plunk it in her hand. “Just take it. It’s for the headache and fever.”

Winter pouts but obediently swallows the pill, washing it down with the water. Her throat bobs as she drinks, and for some reason, you notice her lips lingering on the rim of the glass. You shake it off and clear your throat. “You got anything in the kitchen? Like, soup stuff?”

She blinks, like she has no idea what you’re talking about. “Maybe? I think there’s... carrots? And, um, potatoes?”

“Perfect,” you say dryly, already heading to the fridge. “Soup à la ‘whatever I can find.’”

She props herself up on her elbow, watching you rummage through her cabinets. “Do you even know how to make soup?”

“Nope,” you reply without missing a beat. “But YouTube does.”

Her laugh is soft and raspy. “Good luck, Gordon Ramsay.”

You glance back at her, smirking. “Keep that energy, sick girl.”

—

It takes longer than you’d like—turns out soup’s a bit more complicated than just dumping water in a pot and crossing your fingers—but eventually, you’ve got something that vaguely smells edible. It’s hot, steaming in a bowl, and you’re honestly a little proud of yourself.

You bring it over and hand it to her. She takes it with both hands, peering into the bowl like it’s a work of art.

“Wow,” she murmurs, a small grin tugging at her lips. “It looks legit.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you mutter, sinking into the armchair across from her.

She spoons some up, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. Her eyes widen just slightly. “Hey, this is actually good.”

“You sound shocked,” you say, leaning back. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She grins, small and sheepish. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect you to... you know... be so domestic.”

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. This was a one-time deal.”

She finishes the soup slowly, savoring each bite like it’s some kind of rare delicacy. When she’s done, she sets the bowl aside and looks at you. “Thanks. Really. I feel better already.”

You wave her off, standing up and brushing your hands on your jeans. “No big deal. If anything happens, just shoot me a message.”

Her head tilts. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” you say plainly. “There’s still soup in the kitchen. You can heat it up later if you’re hungry. And like I said, message me if you need anything else.”

Her hand shoots out, grabbing yours. Her grip is soft but firm, and it stops you in your tracks. “Don’t go.”

You hesitate, looking down at her. “Winter...”

“Part of the treatment depends on you staying with me,” she says, her voice light but pleading. Her eyes—big, dark, and slightly glassy—fix on yours. It’s unfair. A total cheat code.

“Come on,” you sigh, trying to pull back. “I’ve already—”

“Please,” she interrupts, tugging you closer. “I get clingy when I’m sick. I need you here.”

You groan, exasperated but helpless. Her face is too damn convincing, her voice too soft. Before you know it, you’re sinking down onto the couch next to her, and she’s leaning into you, her arms sliding around your waist in a loose, warm hug.

“You're too dramatic,” you mutter, but your arms move on their own, wrapping around her small frame.

She lets out a quiet sound—half sigh, half happy grunt—and burrows into your chest like she’s been waiting all day for this. “Thank you,” she whispers.

You sigh again, defeated. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t milk it.”

She just smiles against you, holding on tighter. And somehow, you don’t mind.

—

It’s one of those nights where nothing feels rushed, where time slips by in lazy waves. You’re at one of your friends' house, slouched on his shitty couch that’s seen too many parties and not enough Febreze. A game’s on in the background, the volume turned low enough that no one’s paying attention, and the room smells like pizza grease and beer. Everyone’s in that late-night haze where conversation loops into nonsense—who’d win in a fight between Superman and a shark, or the ethics of hot dog toppings.

You’ve got a cold beer in your hand, halfway through your third or fourth, when your phone buzzes on the armrest.

It’s Winter. She had sent you other messages earlier, But you didn't see them. Or you chose not to.

For a second, you just stare at her name on the screen. It’s been a week since you hooked up at that party, and yeah, you’ve texted a bit. Casual stuff. Songs, memes, “what’s your favorite color” bullshit. You’ve been trying to keep it light. She’s cool, and that’s the problem. Cool girls are trouble. They make you think too much, want too much, and you’ve got enough on your plate without adding emotions to the mix.

Still, curiosity wins. You pick up the phone and open the message.

"What r u doing?"

Simple. Innocent. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. You could lie. Say you’re busy. But why bother?

"Chillin at a friend’s. What about you?"

Her reply comes quick.

"Thinking about you."

You blink at the screen, your brain short-circuiting for a second. The bottle in your hand feels heavier.

"Oh yeah?"

She doesn’t reply right away this time. It’s maybe two minutes of nothing, enough time for one of your friends to ask you a question about the game, for someone else to start laughing about God-knows-what. You nod along, distracted, and then your phone vibrates again.

"Yeah... You were really fun at the party. ;) I kinda wanna see you again."

Your heart does this stupid skip thing, and you tell yourself it’s just the beer. She’s probably just bored. Horny. You tell yourself to play it cool.

"Is that so?"

The next message hits different.

"Come over."

Two words. That’s it. And then, right after, the low blow: a picture.

It’s not outright explicit, but it doesn’t have to be. She’s in these tiny-ass pajamas—shorts so loose you can see the curve of her thigh, a top hanging off one shoulder like it’s about to slide off completely. Her blonde hair’s a little messy, like she’s been rolling around on her bed, and her lips are pouty, her eyes big and innocent, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing.

She knows. She fucking knows.

Your friends are still talking, still laughing, oblivious to the war happening inside your head. You take another sip of your beer and stare at the photo.

"What’s the catch?"

She replies with another picture. This one’s worse—or better, depending on how you look at it. The shorts have ridden up higher, and her hand’s resting on her bare thigh, just teasing enough to make you swallow hard.

The caption?

"No catch. Just... us."

You’re toast. Game over. Whatever thin line of resistance you had is gone. You drain the rest of your beer in one long gulp and stand up, grabbing your jacket.

“Where you going?” one of your friends asks, looking up from his half-dead vape pen.

“New plans,” you say, keeping it vague, keeping it casual. No one needs to know.

You text Winter on your way out the door:

"On my way."

Her reply comes immediately, a simple:

"Good. Door’s unlocked. You already know the address."

And just like that, you’re heading into the night, her photos burned into your brain and your chest pounding like you’ve already lost a game you didn’t even know you were playing.

—

The elevator hums faintly, a low mechanical noise that fills the silence as you lean against the wall, hands shoved in your jacket pockets. The building smells faintly of floor cleaner and old carpet, and the dim light overhead flickers every few seconds. You glance at the number ticking upward, trying to focus on anything but the flood of memories crowding your head.

The party. You hadn’t planned on much. Show up, grab a drink, maybe stick around long enough to prove you weren’t a total recluse. You weren’t exactly in a social mood, but your friends had dragged you along anyway, saying something about getting you out of your funk. You weren’t even there ten minutes before you saw her. Kim Minjeong.

Winter, as she likes to be called.

She’d practically lit up the room. Blonde hair catching the crappy strobe lights, this magnetic energy that somehow felt both chaotic and easygoing at the same time. You’d been nursing your beer, trying to stay inconspicuous, when she caught your eye and grinned like she already knew all your secrets. It wasn’t long before she was laughing at some half-assed joke you made, her laugh contagious, her hand brushing your arm. Flirting came naturally, her words laced with playful teasing.

And then—your place. Her legs wrapped around you, her breathy moans filling the room as your name spilled from her lips. The way she pulled you closer like she couldn’t get enough, the way her nails dug into your back when you made her come. This story was repeated at another party, then another. And now...

The elevator dings, snapping you back to reality.

You step out into the hallway, the carpet muffling your steps as you make your way to her door. Your stomach twists—anticipation, nerves, maybe a bit of both. The memory of her last message sits heavy in your chest. "Door’s unlocked."

You knock lightly anyway, out of habit, before pushing the door open.

And then she’s there.

Winter launches herself at you like a bullet, arms flinging around your neck, her body colliding with yours so fast you almost stumble back. Your hands fly to her waist instinctively, steadying her, and she clings to you like you’ve been gone for months.

“You came,” she breathes. Her face is so close to yours, her warm breath brushing your cheek, her big eyes looking up at you like you’re the answer to every unspoken question.

“Yeah, I—”

Before you can finish, she presses her lips to yours.

Her kiss is needy, urgent, like she’s been waiting all night for this moment. Her hands move to your hair, fingers tangling in it as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. You tighten your grip on her waist, her small frame fitting against you perfectly. Her lips are soft and slightly sweet, probably from whatever she’d been drinking before you got here.

You walk her backward, barely breaking the kiss long enough to navigate, until you feel the edge of the couch hit your legs. You sit down, pulling her with you so she lands on your lap, her thighs straddling yours.

“Miss me?” she teases, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

“Not sure,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though your hands are already sliding down her sides. “Depends on how much trouble you’re planning to cause tonight.”

Her grin is wicked, her eyes sparkling as she cups your jaw. “A lot. Is that gonna be a problem?”

“Probably,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss her again.

She hums against your mouth, her fingers tracing along your jawline. “Good,” she whispers. “I like being your problem.”

You laugh, pulling back just enough to look at her. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Mm, you love it.”

You don’t respond, but the way your hands grip her hips says enough.

Her lips barely leave yours as she speaks, her words soft and breathy between kisses. “Why didn’t you answer my calls earlier?”

The question lands like a curveball, and for a second, you freeze. Her hands are still in your hair, her hips firmly planted on your lap, but she’s pulled back just enough to study your face. Her eyes are sharp, curious, and maybe a little accusing.

“I was busy,” you reply, trying to sound casual as your hands settle on her waist.

Winter narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly like she’s not buying it. “Too busy to pick up the phone? Really?”

You sigh, leaning back into the couch, though your hands don’t leave her hips. “I answered your texts, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, after I sent about ten,” she counters, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “More importantly, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She seems to consider that for a moment, her fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Okay, fine. You get a pass... this time.”

“Oh, thank you, Your Highness,” you tease, earning a playful swat on your shoulder.

Her grin softens, and then she tilts her head, giving you a look that’s somehow both sweet and devious. “So... you don’t secretly have a girlfriend or anything, right?”

The laugh escapes you before you can stop it, loud and genuine. “What? No. Where’d that even come from?”

Winter shrugs, but there’s a sly glint in her eye. “I don’t know... You’re kinda hot. Feels like you’d be someone’s boyfriend already.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Trust me, I’m not. You’re not sharing me with anyone.”

“Good,” she says, her tone a little too triumphant. She leans down again, her lips brushing yours. “Because I don’t like sharing.”

You chuckle against her mouth, your fingers giving her hips a light squeeze. “Noted.”

There’s a brief lull, the kind where the weight of the moment lingers, and then she pulls back slightly, her eyes locking on yours. “Hey,” she starts, her tone shifting to something softer. “Wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

You blink, thrown off by the sudden suggestion. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” she says, sitting up a little straighter on your lap. “Like, a casual thing. No big deal.”

You hesitate, your mind running in circles. Coffee. That’s... date territory, isn’t it? Things between you two already feel fast, tangled, intense. The memory of her in your bed is still fresh, and now she’s talking about coffee like it’s nothing.

“Don’t you think we’re moving kinda fast?” you ask, your voice careful.

She tilts her head, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she smirks, her tone light and teasing. “It’s coffee, not a wedding. What’s the big deal?”

You exhale, shaking your head with a small laugh. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Pretty much,” she replies, her grin widening. “So, is that a yes?”

You stare at her for a moment, her face close to yours, her weight warm and solid on your lap. Something about her makes it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” you mutter, smirking. “But you’re buying.”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss you again. “Deal.”

Winter shifts on your lap, her legs straddling you more comfortably as she leans in close, her arms loosely draped around your shoulders. Her expression is playful, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in her eyes.

“So,” she starts, her voice soft and sweet, “tell me something about you. Something real. Like... what do you do for work?”

You smirk, leaning back into the couch. “What, now you’re interviewing me?”

“Yep,” she says with a grin. “Can’t just make out with a stranger all the time. Gotta know who I’m dealing with.”

You let out a breath. “Alright. Well, I just left college not too long ago. Now I’m working this boring office job—data entry and spreadsheets. Real thrilling stuff.”

Winter tilts her head, her blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “Office job, huh? So you’re, like, a suit-and-tie kind of guy now?”

“More like khakis and button-downs. Nothing fancy.”

“Hmm,” she muses. “Doesn’t really suit you.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, well, it pays the bills. What about you? What do you do?”

Winter’s smile widens, and she shrugs a little too casually. “I’m a stylist. Hair, makeup, fashion—the whole package.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up.

“Why’s that so surprising?” she teases, leaning in closer, her face inches from yours.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t peg you for that. But I guess it makes sense. You’ve got the vibe.”

“Thanks,” she says, clearly pleased with the compliment. Then, out of nowhere, she drops the bombshell: “Oh, and I already knew you before that party.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she says. “We went to the same college.”

“Are you serious?” You sit up straighter, your hands tightening slightly on her hips.

Winter nods, biting her lip like she’s trying not to laugh at your shock. “Yep. Saw you around campus all the time.”

“Why didn’t you ever talk to me?”

Her cheeks flush slightly, her confidence faltering just a bit. “I was shy back then. Plus, you were always surrounded by other girls.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I wasn’t surrounded by girls.”

“You were,” she insists, grinning. “And I thought you were cute, so I didn’t want to deal with the competition.”

You lean in slightly, your voice dropping. “Well, I thought you were beautiful at the party, you know. Everything about you—your clothes, your hair, your smile. You kind of lit up the whole place.”

Winter’s smile softens, and she looks at you like you just handed her the world. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” you reply firmly. “It’s the truth.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breaths mingling.

“Do you think about me after we had sex? I mean, whe I leave?” she asks, her voice quieter now.

You pause, the question hanging heavily between you. Instead of answering, you turn it back on her. “Do you think about me?”

Her response is immediate. “Of course I do.”

You blink, a little taken aback by her honesty.

“I kept thinking about our kiss,” she continues, her hands sliding down to rest on your chest. “About your hands on me. The way you were so... affectionate and strong at the same time. And how mysterious you are. Like, you give just enough to make me want more.”

Her words wash over you, leaving you almost speechless. You swallow hard, her gaze locking onto yours, and before you can stop yourself, the truth spills out.

“I thought about you too,” you admit. “Just a little. The way you moaned in my ear, soft and slow. The way you pulled me closer, like you couldn’t get enough. And...” You trail off, your hands sliding down to cup her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “I couldn’t stop thinking about this tight little ass of yours.”

Winter lets out a small gasp, her cheeks flushing red, but the sly grin creeping across her face tells you she likes it.

“Is that so?” she teases, her voice trembling slightly as she rocks her hips against your hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss her again. “It’s burned into my brain.”

Her laugh is breathy and soft against your lips as she kisses you back, her arms wrapping tighter around your neck. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

Winter’s hips shift subtly in your lap, her thighs squeezing against yours like she’s testing how far she can push you. Her breath is warm against your neck, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Show me how much Daddy missed me.”

Your grip on her tightens instinctively, your hands digging into the curve of her ass. Something about the way she says it, soft but deliberate, ignites a spark in your chest and sends it straight to your groin.

“You’re gonna regret saying that,” you murmur.

She doesn’t respond with words, just tilts her head, offering her neck like a challenge. You lean in, your teeth grazing her skin, and she lets out a quiet gasp, her fingers tangling in your hair to pull you closer.

Your touch grows firmer, your hands roaming her body like you’re staking a claim. Winter notices—of course, she does—and the sly smile spreading across her lips only feeds the fire.

“Take this off,” you mutter, your fingers toying with the hem of her top.

Winter doesn’t hesitate, raising her arms obediently, her gaze fixed on yours. The top slides up and over her head, revealing her bare chest underneath. No bra, just smooth, pale skin and her small, almost flat breasts. Her nipples are soft, pink against the lighter tone of her skin, and for a moment, all you can do is take her in.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice thick with something between awe and desire.

Winter blushes slightly but doesn’t look away, her confidence unwavering as she leans closer, her hands resting on your shoulders. “Well?” she teases, her voice softer now. “Aren’t you gonna touch me?”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your lips find her chest, warm and delicate against your mouth. You kiss along the curve of her small breasts, your hands sliding up her sides until your thumbs brush against the soft skin beneath her nipples. Winter sighs, her head tilting back slightly, her fingers tightening on your shoulders.

You take your time, your lips closing around one nipple, kissing it before flicking your tongue over the sensitive peak. Her skin tastes clean, warm, slightly sweet, and you can feel her chest rise and fall against your mouth as her breathing quickens.

“Oh,” she murmurs, her voice soft but needy. “That feels so good.”

Your hand moves to her other breast, your fingers gently teasing the nipple as you kiss and suck on the first. Winter shifts in your lap, her thighs pressing tighter against yours as she arches into your touch.

“God, I missed this,” you mutter against her skin, your lips dragging across her chest to give her other nipple the same attention.

Winter lets out a soft, breathy laugh, her fingers slipping into your hair. “You're making it hard to believe that you were thinking about me just a little bit.”

You look up at her, your lips brushing her skin as you smirk. “Maybe I've been thinking about you too much.”

Your mouth trails upward, leaving her chest for her soft, exposed neck. Winter tilts her head to the side, offering it to you like it’s the easiest decision she’s ever made. You kiss along her skin, slow at first, testing, and then your lips part, and you suck gently.

Her breath catches. “Oh, fuck,” she whispers.

You grin against her neck, dragging your tongue along the spot where you know her pulse is fluttering wildly. “I’m gonna leave marks,” you murmur, your voice low and rough. “So you don’t forget me.”

Winter’s fingers slip from your hair to your shoulders, her nails digging into your shirt-covered skin. “Do it,” she pleads, her voice breathy and desperate. “Please, daddy, mark me.”

Something about the way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. You latch onto her neck, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her gasp. She writhes in your lap, her hips shifting against yours as soft moans spill from her lips.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You move to a new spot, just below her jawline, and suck again, harder this time. Winter whimpers, her hands slipping under your shirt. Her touch is cool and electric against your bare skin, her little nails dragging lightly at first and then scratching down your back.

“Shit,” you hiss, the sting from her nails mixing with the heat of her body against yours.

She smirks, her confidence peeking through as she lifts your shirt higher, exposing more of your skin. “If you’re gonna mark me,” she says, her voice soft but teasing, “I’m marking you too.”

Her nails dig in harder this time, her hands roaming your back and sides with purpose. You feel the faint burn of each scratch, and it only makes you want her more.

You pull back just enough to look at her, her flushed cheeks, her lips slightly parted, her neck now adorned with faint red marks from your mouth. “You’re trouble,” you mutter, your hands sliding back to her hips, pulling her tighter against you.

Winter grins, biting her lip as she looks down at you. “Your trouble,” she says, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

“Maybe,” you admit, leaning in to suck on another spot just below her ear. Her moan this time is louder, her nails dragging down your chest in response.

Your hand slides down Winter’s side, sneaking under the hem of her loose shorts. The moment your fingers brush against her panties, you freeze.

“Shit,” you mutter, pulling back slightly to look at her. “You’re soaking wet already?”

Winter’s cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look embarrassed—if anything, she looks proud, biting her lip as she gazes down at you. “Just from your kisses,” she whispers, her voice soft and teasing.

You raise an eyebrow, your fingers dipping further, sliding over the slick heat of her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. “You’re telling me this is all because of me?”

She lets out a soft gasp, her hips shifting against your hand. “It’s because I’ve been thinking about you. All night. You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, your thumb brushing against her clit through the damp fabric. Her reaction is instant—a sharp intake of breath, her nails digging into your shoulders as she presses closer.

You lean in, biting her lower lip just enough to make her whimper. The faint taste of her cherry lip gloss lingers on your tongue, sweet and sticky, and you pull back with a smirk. “You’ve been thinking about me, huh? Let’s see just how much.”

Grabbing her waist, you lift her slightly, laying her back on the couch. Winter looks up at you with wide, eager eyes, her breathing quick as your hands slide to her shorts.

“Let’s get these off,” you say, your voice rough.

She lifts her hips obediently, letting you pull the shorts down her legs. The thin fabric catches for a moment on her thighs before slipping away completely, leaving her in nothing but a tiny pair of panties, already darkened with wetness.

“Goddamn,” you murmur, tossing the shorts aside. “I missed this. Missed the way you taste.”

Winter squirms under your gaze, her lips parting as she whispers, “Then come and get me.”

You take off your jacket and throw it on the floor before you push her legs apart, pale and soft under your hands, guiding her closer to the edge of the couch. You remove her panties in one smooth motion. The sight of her drives you insane—her pink folds glistening, practically begging for your tongue. You kneel between her legs, hands sliding up her thighs, your thumbs brushing just close enough to tease.

“Patience,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss the inside of her thigh. Her skin is warm under your lips, the faint scent of her arousal filling your senses as you trail kisses along her thigh, inching closer to where she needs you most.

Winter moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair. “Don’t tease me,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

You smirk, your lips brushing against her skin. “But you like it, don’t you? Makes it even better when I finally give you what you want.”

She whimpers, her hips shifting toward your mouth. “Please, daddy,” she breathes. “I need you.”

You grin against her skin, dragging your tongue up the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, savoring every shiver and gasp. “You’ll get me,” you murmur, your voice low. “But I’m gonna take my time first.”

Your fingers glide lower, grazing her entrance, and the slick heat against your skin makes your cock throb. “You’re dripping, Winter,” you murmur, teasing her as your fingers just barely slip inside before pulling back.

She arches her back slightly, her hips chasing your hand, desperate for more. “Please,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathy.

“Please what?” you ask, your tone laced with mock innocence. You drag your fingers through her wetness, just enough to make her gasp, but you don’t give her what she wants.

Winter whines, her nails digging into the couch as her thighs twitch against your shoulders. “Please... suck me. I need it,” she begs, her voice trembling.

“Need it?” You smirk, your fingers circling her clit lightly, watching the way her body reacts to every touch. “I don’t think you’ve begged enough.”

Her head falls back against the couch, and she lets out a frustrated moan. “Daddy, please,” she pleads, her voice breaking. “I’ll be good. Just—please. I need your mouth on me.”

“Better,” you murmur, leaning in until your lips are just a breath away from her. You can feel the heat radiating off her pussy, the scent of her arousal making your head spin. “But I want to hear you beg like you really mean it.”

Her hips buck again, and she whimpers, her voice desperate now. “Please, daddy, please suck me. I need your tongue. I need to feel you. I’ll do anything, just—fuck, please!”

That’s all it takes to break you.

“Good girl,” you mutter before diving in.

Your tongue runs flat against her slit, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she shudders under you. The taste of her—sweet, salty, perfect—hits your tongue, and it’s almost overwhelming. You groan against her, your hands gripping her thighs to keep her open as you suck gently on her swollen clit.

“Oh my God,” Winter gasps, her back arching off the couch. “Fuck, yes—just like that.”

You don’t stop, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance. She’s so wet, the slickness coating your lips and chin as you lap at her like you can’t get enough. Her moans grow louder, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer.

“Fuck, daddy,” she moans, her hips grinding against your mouth. “You’re so good at this—oh, fuck—don’t stop.”

You hum against her, the vibration making her cry out. Your tongue plunges into her, tasting her from the inside, while your thumb comes up to rub slow circles on her clit.

“Shit, you taste so good,” you mutter, your voice muffled against her. “I could do this all fucking night.”

Her breath catches, and her moans turn into desperate little whimpers. “Oh, fuck—I’m so close, please, don’t stop, please—”

Her begging drives you wild, your tongue glides along Winter’s folds, teasing her clit as you feel her squirm beneath your touch. But as much as her gasps and whimpers fuel your hunger, you decide to take it further. Your fingers slip down between her legs, sliding easily over her soaked pussy.

“Fuck,” you murmur, glancing up at her flushed face. “You’re so wet, Winter. You always get this messy just thinking about me?”

She nods weakly, her lips parting to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky moan as you press one finger inside her. The heat and tightness make your cock ache, and when you add a second finger, you’re rewarded with a sharp cry that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You remember last time?” you ask, curling your fingers inside her, finding that spot that made her melt before. “That sweet cream you gave me? I want it again.”

Winter’s head falls back against the couch, her hips bucking into your hand as your fingers pump into her. “Oh my God,” she moans, her voice high and needy. “Daddy, I—fuck—I’ll give it to you, just don’t stop!”

“Good girl,” you growl, your pace quickening. Your fingers thrust into her slick pussy, the sound obscene, wet, and fucking addictive. You can feel her walls tightening around you, and as you pull your fingers out slightly, you watch as a thin, creamy slickness clings to them.

“There it is,” you say, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanted.”

Winter’s face is a mess of pleasure, her moans coming louder and more desperate as you keep going. “Oh, fuck, daddy, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you cut her off, leaning in to suck on her clit while your fingers keep working her. “You’re gonna cum for me, Winter. I want all of it.”

She cries out, her nails digging into the couch as her thighs tremble around your head. “I’m close—fuck, I’m so close!”

You redouble your efforts, your tongue swirling over her swollen clit while your fingers curl and thrust, hitting that spot inside her with relentless precision. Her moans turn into frantic gasps, her body tensing as the pressure builds.

“Come on, baby,” you murmur against her, your breath hot on her sensitive skin. “Give it to me. I want to taste all of you.”

Her body arches off the couch as she lets out a broken scream, her pussy clenching hard around your fingers as she cums. You keep going, licking and sucking at her clit, swallowing every drop of her as her juices coat your tongue. Your fingers slow but don’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she’s shaking and gasping for breath.

Finally, you pull back, your lips and chin glistening with her arousal. Winter looks at you through half-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and trembling. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

You grin, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you meet her gaze. “Told you I missed your taste.”

Her laugh is soft and breathy, and she reaches out to pull you closer.

“And I missed you,” she murmurs. “Every fucking inch of you.”

You lean up, your lips crashing against Winter’s in a desperate, heated kiss. She doesn’t hesitate, kissing you back with just as much intensity, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer. Her taste lingers on your tongue, sweet and salty, and when her lips part to deepen the kiss, you can feel her shiver against you.

Between kisses, her breathless voice cuts through. “I need you,” she whispers, her tone thick with want. “I need your cock, daddy.”

Her words are gasoline on the fire already burning in you. You tug your shirt off over your head, tossing it aside. Your hands drop to your belt, unbuckling it with quick, impatient movements. Winter watches you, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling as she stares at the bulge straining against your underwear. The sound of your zipper fills the room as you shove your pants down, kicking off your shoes and stepping out of everything, leaving only your boxers.

Your cock is rock-hard, the fabric damp where precum has seeped through. Winter’s hand reaches out, slender fingers grazing the outline of you through the thin material.

“Fuck,” Winter whispers. She slides her hand inside your waistband, freeing you in one swift motion.

The moment your cock is out, her small hand wraps around it, stroking you slowly at first, her touch firm but teasing. Her thumb glides over the head, spreading the wetness there as her lips crash against yours again.

“You’re so fucking hard,” she murmurs against your mouth, her strokes growing bolder.

“For you,” you growl, biting at her lower lip as your hips thrust lightly into her hand.

Her grip tightens just enough to make you groan, but you pull back, grabbing her wrists to stop her before this ends too soon.

“Turn around,” you command.

Winter obeys instantly, her movements eager as she twists to lie on her belly on the couch. You guide her legs up, positioning her so her knees rest on the arm of the couch, her ass raised in the air and her thighs trembling.

The sight of her like this—completely vulnerable, her pale skin flushed, her pussy glistening and ready—makes your breath hitch. You step behind her, standing on the floor, your cock twitching as you grip her hips, lining yourself up.

“Beg for it,” you demand.

Winter lets out a soft whine, her head turning to glance back at you. “Please, daddy,” she starts, her voice shaking. “Please fuck me. I need you so bad. I need your cock inside me.”

“That’s not good enough,” you growl, gripping her ass and squeezing hard.

Her voice grows louder, more desperate. “Please, daddy, I’ll be so good for you. I’ll take all of you. Just—fuck, please! I need you to fill me up. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

You smirk, the raw need in her voice sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s better,” you mutter, your hands sliding up her thighs as you position yourself.

“You’re gonna feel every inch of me, baby,” you promise, your voice dark and full of intent. “And you’re gonna love it.”

You don’t bother teasing. Gripping Winter’s soft hips firmly, you position yourself at her entrance, the slick heat of her pussy already pulling you in. And then you push forward, slamming into her in one smooth, powerful thrust.

Her gasp is sharp, a mix of surprise and raw pleasure. “Oh, fuck!” she cries, her body jerking forward on the couch.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, pausing just for a second as her pussy clenches tight around you. “You’re fucking tight, Winter. So goddamn tight.”

She moans in response, her head turning slightly to glance back at you. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes are already hazy with need. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breathy. “Fuck me harder. I need it.”

“Careful what you wish for,” you growl, pulling back and slamming into her again. Her cry of pleasure spurs you on, and soon you’re setting a brutal pace, your hips slamming against her ass with every thrust.

Her pussy grips you like a vice, impossibly tight and hot, and each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through you. You grab a handful of her ass, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks as you drive into her over and over.

“Shit,” you groan, your voice rough as your hips snap forward. “You take it so fucking good. This tight little pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Winter moans, her voice high and needy. “Yes, yes—don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Her hands claw at the cushions, her body rocking with every thrust. You lean over her slightly, one hand gripping her hip while the other slides up her back, pressing her down into the couch. The new angle has her crying out, her pussy clenching even tighter around you.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your breath ragged. “You’re so goddamn wet. So tight. Feels like you’re trying to milk my cock.”

Her moans grow louder, more frantic, each one making your cock throb inside her. “More,” she whimpers, her voice breaking. “I need more. Please, fuck me harder. Use me.”

You oblige without hesitation, your grip on her hips tightening as you pound into her mercilessly. The sound of your hips slapping against her ass fills the room, mixing with her desperate moans and your own rough grunts.

“You love this, don’t you?” you growl. “Getting fucked like this, bent over and taking it. You’re such a good little slut for me.”

Her response is immediate, a loud, breathless moan as her back arches. “Yes! I love it—I fucking love it!”

Your thrusts don’t falter, hips slamming into Winter’s ass with relentless force, the wet, filthy sounds of her tight pussy taking you driving you insane. Her body shakes with every thrust, her moans coming louder and louder, each one dripping with desperate need.

And then you glance down at her ass—small, pale, and bouncing every time you slam into her. The sight sends a wicked idea flashing through your mind, and without thinking twice, you bring your hand down hard against her cheek.

The smack echoes in the room, and Winter cries out, the sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp of shock. “Fuck!” she whimpers, her head snapping up as her back arches.

You grin, your hand tingling from the impact. “You like that?” you growl, squeezing the soft, warm flesh you just marked.

“Yes,” she moans, her voice high and breathless. “Do it again.”

Your hand comes down again, harder this time, the sound sharper, and Winter’s reaction is immediate. She moans loudly, pushing her ass back toward you like the filthy little slut she is. “More,” she begs, her voice trembling. “Please, spank your good girl’s ass. I need it.”

“Yeah?” you say, your tone low and mocking as your hand rubs over the red print blooming on her cheek. “You need me to mark this pretty little ass of yours?”

“Yes,” she gasps, writhing beneath you. “Mark me. Use me. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

The words flip a switch in you, and your hand comes down again, and again, each slap leaving a red handprint against her pale skin. Winter cries out every time, her moans turning to shameless, wanton whimpers as she pushes back into your hand, her pussy clenching tighter around your cock.

“Look at you,” you taunt, your voice thick with satisfaction. “Bent over and begging to get your ass spanked like a little whore.”

“Because I am,” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “I’m your little whore. Please, don’t stop. Spank me. Fuck me.”

Your hand comes down one more time, the slap ringing out, and Winter practically screams, her hips jerking forward before slamming back against you. Her ass is warm under your palm, the flesh reddened and glowing, and you can’t help but grab it, squeezing hard as you bury yourself inside her again.

“God, you’re such a slut,” you growl, your grip on her hips almost bruising. “Taking my cock so fucking well. You love being dominated, don’t you? Being used?”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice breaking as she gasps for air. “I fucking love it. I love the way you use me.”

Her pussy grips you like a vice, her walls fluttering around you as you pound into her, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you. But neither of you is there yet—this is just the beginning, and you’re nowhere near done with her.

Your thrusts are relentless, Winter’s high-pitched screams filling the room, each one tearing through you like fuel on a fire. Her once-pale ass is now completely red, the heat radiating from her skin as you give her one last hard slap. The sound echoes, and she cries out, her body trembling beneath you.

“Get up,” you order.

Winter doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even question you. She pushes herself up from the couch, her legs shaky as she stands, looking over her shoulder at you with wide, obedient eyes. Her chest rises and falls, her flushed body trembling slightly as she waits for your next move.

You don’t give her time to think. Grabbing her by the waist, you lift her with ease, her small frame light in your hands. Her arms instinctively wrap around your neck, and her legs lock around your waist, pulling herself closer to you.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your cock brushing against her slick entrance as you position her. “So fucking obedient. You make me so goddamn hard.”

Her breath hitches, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “Anything for you, daddy. Use me however you want.”

“Fuck, Winter,” you growl, the words making your cock twitch.

You push into her slowly, her wetness making it easy, but her tightness still squeezes you. Both of you moan at the same time, the sound mingling in the air as you bury yourself inside her.

Her voice is soft, trembling. “Oh my God... you’re so deep, daddy.”

“That’s because you’re made for me,” you reply, your voice low and rough as your hands grip her thighs. “Every inch of this tight little pussy is mine.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her nails digging into your shoulders as you start to move. You lift her up, her body sliding along your cock, slow at first, letting her feel every inch as you fill her completely.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your neck as she moans softly in your ear. “I love being your fucktoy.”

You groan, your grip on her tightening as you pick up the pace, moving her up and down on your cock like she’s nothing more than a doll in your hands. Her moans grow louder, each one hitting your ear and making your cock throb inside her.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you mutter, your voice thick with lust. “Moan for me. Let me hear how much you love being fucked like this.”

“I love it,” she whimpers, her hips moving in time with yours, her voice high and needy. “I love the way you use me. You make me feel so good—so full.”

“You’re my good girl,” you growl, biting at her neck as you fuck her harder. “And it’s my fucking job to ruin you.”

Her cry is almost a scream, her nails dragging down your back as she clings to you. “Yes,” she moans, her voice breaking. “Ruin me, daddy. Fuck me however you want. I’m yours.”

Your grip tightens on Winter’s thighs as you start pounding into her harder, your movements raw and unforgiving. Her gasps turn into high-pitched moans, her breath hitching with every thrust as her body clings to yours.

“This what you wanted so bad?” you growl, your voice rough against her ear. “You called me over just to get fucked like this?”

“Yes,” she cries out. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I needed your cock—I needed you to fuck me. Make me cum, please!”

“Fuck, you’re so naughty,” you growl, biting her neck lightly as your hips snap forward, driving her down onto your cock with brutal force. “A little slut, calling me in the middle of the night just to get used like this.”

“Yes!” she moans, her voice breaking, her hips grinding against you. “I’m your little slut—I love it! I love being your whore!”

Her words fuel something dark and primal in you, and you slam her down harder, her body bouncing against yours like a rag doll. “Yeah?” you snarl, your tone dripping with dominance. “Then be a good slut and cum on my cock. Right fucking now.”

Winter’s cries rise into screams as you adopt a brutal rhythm, your hands gripping her ass and thighs tightly, throwing her body onto your cock like she’s nothing more than your personal toy. Her moans are loud, desperate, raw, and you can feel her body trembling, teetering on the edge.

“Cum,” you command, your voice firm and unrelenting. “Cum for me, Winter. Now.”

Her body stiffens, her head snapping back as she lets out a long, broken scream. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, her thighs quaking as waves of pleasure crash through her.

“Fuck!” she cries, her hands gripping you tighter, her nails digging into your back. Her entire body convulses, her moans turning into incoherent whimpers as her orgasm consumes her.

You lean in, attacking her neck with kisses and light bites, your breath hot against her skin. Her eyes roll back, her lips parted in silent screams, and you hold her tightly, keeping her steady as her body jerks uncontrollably in your arms.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur against her skin, your tone softer now. “My good girl. You did so good for me.”

Winter’s breathing is ragged, her body limp in your arms as she comes down from the high. You shift your grip, holding her gently, your lips brushing along her jawline and cheeks, peppering her with soft kisses.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper, your hands smoothing over her back. “You deserved every second of that.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her face burying in your neck as she clings to you. “You’re gonna kill me,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse but full of satisfaction.

“Not yet,” you reply with a smirk, kissing the top of her head. “I’m not done with you.”

Slowly, you lower her to the ground, setting her on her knees in front of you. She goes willingly, her legs trembling but obedient, her wide eyes looking up at you as she licks her lips.

Winter smiles, her voice soft and teasing. “Ready for more, sir?”

You look down at Winter, kneeling in front of you like the perfect little slut she loves to be. Her blonde hair is messy, her cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly parted, still red from all the biting and kissing. She looks wrecked, and it’s fucking beautiful.

“Yes,” you say, your voice low and full of hunger. “I’m ready for more. But the question is—are you?”

She nods eagerly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as her eyes flicker down to your cock. It’s still rock hard, slick with her arousal, twitching slightly as you step closer.

You grab the base, stroking it slowly as you guide it to her face. The swollen tip brushes against her soft cheek, and her breath hitches, her hands coming up to rest on your thighs for balance. You drag your cock across her flushed skin, over her delicate jawline, and finally against her lips.

“You see this?” you murmur, smirking as you tap the head of your cock against her mouth. “This is what you do to me, Winter. You’ve got me so fucking hard, and now I’m thinking about marking this pretty little face of yours.”

Her eyes flutter shut for a moment, a quiet whimper escaping her lips as she presses a soft kiss to the head of your cock. “Do it,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need. “Please, cum on my face. I want it. I want you to mark me.”

Her words send a jolt straight to your core, but you’re not letting her off that easy. You grip her chin gently, tilting her face up to meet your gaze. “If you want it so bad,” you murmur, your thumb brushing over her lower lip, “you’re gonna have to earn it. Make me cum, Winter. Show me how much you want it.”

She doesn’t waste a second. Her hands wrap around your shaft, small and delicate against your thick cock, and she leans in, her tongue flicking out to tease the head. You let out a low groan, watching as she works, her eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Good girl,” you mutter, your hand resting on the back of her head. “Show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

Winter’s lips part, and she takes you in, her tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down your length. Her mouth is warm and wet, and the suction she creates has your knees threatening to buckle. She starts slow, her movements deliberate as she takes more of you, her hands stroking what her mouth can’t reach.

“Fuck, that’s it,” you groan, your fingers tangling in her hair. “You look so fucking good like this, Winter. Taking me so well.”

She moans around you, the vibration making you curse under your breath. Her head bobs, her pace quickening as she gets more confident, more eager. Spit drips down her chin, her hands twisting at the base of your cock, and her soft little whimpers drive you closer to the edge.

“Shit, baby,” you mutter, your voice rough. “You’re so fucking good at this. Keep going—just like that.”

Her response is to take you even deeper, her throat constricting around you as she gags slightly, but she doesn’t stop. Her nails dig into your thighs, her moans growing louder, and you can feel yourself getting dangerously close.

“Fuck, Winter,” you groan, your grip on her hair tightening. “You’re gonna make me cum all over that pretty face of yours. Is that what you want? To be covered in me?”

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips slick and swollen. “Yes,” she gasps, stroking you with both hands. “I want it so bad. Please, cum for me, daddy. Mark me. I’ll take all of it.”

Her words are your undoing, and you feel the tension coiling tight in your core as she wraps her lips around you again, sucking you with even more determination.

Winter’s lips work over your cock like she was born to do it, her soft, pink mouth gliding along your length while her tongue swirls and flicks against the sensitive underside. Every movement sends jolts of pleasure coursing through you, making it harder to keep your composure.

Her eyes glance up, locking onto yours, and fuck—it’s like she knows exactly what that look does to you. Wide, innocent, framed by her messy blonde hair, and full of something sinful. The combination of her gaze and the wet, obscene sound of her sucking you is almost too much.

“Goddamn, Winter,” you groan, your head falling back for a moment as you let yourself get lost in it. “You’re so fucking good at this. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. She doubles down, taking you deeper, her lips stretching around your cock as her tongue continues to tease. You can feel her saliva dripping down, making a slick mess of her chin, but she doesn’t seem to care. If anything, she moans softly, the vibrations shooting straight through you.

“Fuck,” you hiss, your fingers tightening in her hair. You glance down, and the sight of her small hands now cupping and massaging your balls makes your knees nearly give out. “Shit, baby, that’s... that’s so fucking good.”

Winter’s only response is another moan, muffled around your cock. She speeds up, her hands stroking what her mouth can’t reach, her tongue flicking over your tip with each pass. You can feel the pressure building in your gut, that telltale tightness letting you know you’re close.

“Fuck, Winter, stop,” you growl, pulling her off your cock with a wet pop. You’re panting, your cock twitching in your hand as you take a step back.

She looks up at you, her lips swollen and slick with spit, her chest heaving. “Why’d you stop me?” she asks, her voice sweet and breathless.

“Because,” you say, gripping your cock and stroking it slowly, trying to hold back. “I’m gonna make a fucking mess of your face, and I need you to beg for it.”

Her eyes light up, and she leans forward slightly, her hands resting on her thighs. “Please,” she says, her voice soft and needy. “I want it. I want you to cum on me, daddy. I need it. Please, baby, please.”

“Shit,” you groan, the sound of her sweet little pleas making it impossible to hold back.

You stroke yourself faster, the slickness of her spit making it easy as you aim at her gorgeous face. Winter watches you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, her expression full of anticipation.

“Fuck,” you growl, the tension snapping as you feel yourself tip over the edge. “Here it comes, baby. Take it all.”

The first hot spurt of cum hits her cheek, followed by another and another, painting her face in thick, messy streaks. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move—she just sits there, taking every drop like the good little slut she loves to be.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your strokes slowing as the last few ropes of cum land on her lips and chin.

Her lips curl into this filthy little smile, and she doesn’t waste a second. Her fingers are already working, sliding through the mess, gathering your cum like it’s something precious, smearing it across her cheeks, her forehead, even brushing it down to her neck. She spreads it out deliberately, almost artfully, until her face glistens with it, sticky and marked like she wants everyone to know exactly what she’s done. Exactly who she belongs to.

Her tongue flicks out, tasting the corner of her lips, humming softly as if savoring the flavor. She's in no rush to get clean, it's like Winter feels like she doesn't need to—she just leans into the mess, into the filth, wearing it like a badge of honor.

"You taste so fucking good, daddy,” she murmurs, her voice low and thick with satisfaction. Her eyes stay locked on yours as she drags her fingers to her lips, sucking one clean with a soft, wet pop. She grins wider, teeth flashing. "I could eat this off me all night.”

You smirk, brushing a thumb across her cheek to gather some of the cum she missed. “Clean me up,” you say, stepping closer and holding your cock in front of her mouth.

Winter leans in without hesitation, her tongue flicking out to lick along your length, cleaning every inch of you with slow, deliberate strokes. She takes you into her mouth one last time, sucking gently, her eyes fluttering shut as if savoring the moment.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stroking her hair as she finishes. “You’re fucking perfect.”

—

The TV hums softly in the background, some late-night infomercial filling the quiet, but you’re not watching it. Your eyes are on Winter, her head resting on your lap as she sleeps. Her soft blonde hair falls over her face, her lips slightly parted, her breathing slow and steady. She looks so peaceful like this, curled up on the couch under your hand.

You stroke her hair absentmindedly, your mind drifting. It’s not the first time you’ve been like this with her, and that’s what’s messing you up. You think back to that night at her apartment—the way she kissed you like she’d been waiting her whole life for it, the way she moaned your name, the way she asked you to mark her, the way she fell asleep in your arms afterward.

And then, the morning after. That was unusual for you. Normally, you’d wake up, maybe share some awkward small talk, and then you’d be gone. No texts, no calls, just a memory and a closed chapter. But with Winter...

You remember how she clung to you that morning, burying her face in your chest, refusing to let you go. How you didn’t mind staying in bed with her, your arms wrapped around her, her warmth sinking into you. It was so... different.

Now here you are again. Winter on your lap, completely comfortable with you being here. And you, sitting here like an idiot, unable to tear yourself away. If only she wasn’t so cute, so sweet, so... fucking irresistible.

You sigh quietly and glance at the clock. It’s late, and you know you shouldn’t stay. Carefully, you slide your hand out from under her head and shift her onto the couch, laying her down gently. She murmurs something in her sleep but doesn’t wake up. You grab a blanket from the armrest and drape it over her, tucking it around her small frame.

You pause for a moment, just looking at her. God, she’s beautiful. Too beautiful.

Shaking your head, you grab your jacket and head for the door. You’ve got your hand on the doorknob when you hear a soft, groggy voice behind you.

“Where are you going?”

You freeze, turning to see Winter sitting up on the couch, her eyes heavy with sleep but full of confusion. She looks at you like a child caught waking up to an empty room, her expression tugging at something deep inside you.

“I was just leaving,” you say quietly. “You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

She gets up slowly, the blanket falling off her shoulders as she shuffles over to you. Her arms wrap around your waist, her cheek pressing against your chest. “Stay,” she murmurs, her voice soft but firm.

You hesitate, your hands hovering awkwardly at your sides. “Winter...”

“Why do you always run away?” she asks, her voice muffled against your shirt.

“I’m not running away,” you say, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.

She pulls back slightly, looking up at you with those big, questioning eyes. “Yes, you are. You did it the first time, and the second, and—God, you always do this. Why?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t... I don’t do relationships, Winter. That’s not my thing. I’m not trying to hurt you—I just...”

“Just what?” she presses. “What are you so afraid of?”

You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. Finally, you take a deep breath and say, “Maybe I like you more than I should. And I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and you feel her grip on your shirt tighten.

“Relationships are messy,” you continue, your voice low. “They’re complicated. And I’m not good at that shit. I don’t want to fuck this up, Winter. I don’t want to fuck you up.”

She blinks at you, her expression softening. “You’re not fucking me up,” she says quietly. “You’re... you’re making me happy. And I think I make you happy too. Or am I wrong?”

You look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes. “You do,” you admit. “You make me feel things I don't want to feel, Winter.”

“Then stay,” she whispers. “Just for tonight. Stop running, just... stay with me.”

Her words hang in the air, and for once, you don’t have a reason to say no. Letting out a heavy sigh, you throw your jacket back on the couch and wrap your arms around her and pulling her close, resting your chin on top of her head.

“Alright,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.”

Winter hugs you tighter, her body relaxing against yours. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of relief.

Winter tugs you back to the couch, her small hands wrapped around your wrist as she pulls you down beside her. The blanket slips off the couch as she curls up next to you, her head resting against your shoulder.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask, glancing down at her.

“Better,” she murmurs, her voice soft and still a little groggy. “Just a little cold.”

You tilt your head, your brow furrowing slightly. “Want me to grab you something from your closet? A hoodie or something?”

She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she looks up at you. “No. You’re already enough to warm me up.”

You roll your eyes, though the corner of your mouth twitches upward. “You’re so clingy.”

“And that's why you like me,” she shoots back, leaning into you a little more.

You sigh, letting the moment settle for a bit, but then Winter shifts, sitting up slightly to face you. There’s something in her eyes now—a mix of curiosity and determination that instantly puts you on edge.

“So,” she starts, her tone deceptively casual. “Why are you so anti-relationship?”

“Winter…” you warn, already feeling the weight of the conversation she’s trying to start.

“Nope,” she says, cutting you off with a shake of her head. “Don’t brush me off. You just admitted you like me, so now I get to ask questions.”

You groan, leaning your head back against the couch. “This is why I don’t talk about shit like this.”

“Too bad,” she says firmly, poking your chest with her finger. “Spill.”

You let out a long sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “Fine. You want the story? Here it is.”

Winter doesn’t say anything, just waits, her eyes locked on you, her expression soft but focused.

“It was high school,” you start, your voice quieter now. “I was seventeen. She was… everything. Or at least, I thought she was. We were together for two years—serious, like, talking-about-the-future serious. Then, out of nowhere, she dumped me. Said she was bored. Two years, and she just… walked away like it was nothing.”

Winter’s face twists in disbelief. “Are you serious? She said that? That she was bored?”

You nod, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Yeah. And she was already hooking up with some guy from her physics class a week later. Guess I wasn’t exciting enough.”

“That’s fucking awful,” Winter says, her voice soft but filled with anger on your behalf.

“Yeah, well, it kind of destroyed me,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was stupid enough to think it was love, you know? Thought she was the one or whatever. But after that, I decided I wasn’t gonna deal with that shit anymore. Relationships are messy, and people suck.”

Winter doesn’t say anything right away, just stares at you like she’s trying to piece you together. Finally, she asks, “So, what? You’re just gonna live the rest of your life alone?”

“Pretty much,” you say with a shrug. “I’m not living in the 50s, Winter. I don’t need to get married or settle down to be happy.”

Her brow furrows, and she shifts closer, her hand resting lightly on your knee. “I’m sorry you went through that. I really am. But…”

You raise an eyebrow. “But?”

“But,” she continues, her voice firm, “not everyone’s like her. Not everyone’s gonna break your heart.”

You scoff lightly. “Right. Until they do.”

Winter shakes her head, her hand squeezing your knee. “I’m not saying you have to trust everyone. I’m just saying… maybe you shouldn’t shut the door completely. You’re not the same person you were back then.”

You glance at her, her face so earnest it almost hurts to look at her. “What are you getting at?”

She takes a deep breath, her hand moving to cover yours. “I’m saying… give me a chance. Let me show you that relationships don’t have to be messy and painful. That they can be good, too.”

“Winter…”

“Just think about it,” she says softly. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m asking for a chance. For us.”

Her eyes search yours, and for the first time in years, you feel the walls you’ve built around yourself start to crack, just a little.

“Why me, anyway?” you finally ask. “There are so many guys out there—guys who actually want to date, who don’t have all this baggage.”

Winter sits back a little, still close but giving you enough space to think. Her eyes stay locked on yours, though, unwavering. “Because none of them are you,” she says softly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of her answer. “What does that even mean?”

She smiles, a small, almost shy curve of her lips. “It means I don’t want someone else. I want you. You’re funny, and you’re smart, and you’re—” She pauses, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re different. In the best way.”

You snort lightly, trying to deflect the compliment. “Different how?”

“You just are,” she says, leaning forward. “Remember that night I couldn’t sleep, and you were up playing video games? We messaged for hours, just talking about the dumbest shit.”

You do remember. She’d been wide awake at 2 a.m., texting you about how she hated the sound of the neighbor’s wind chimes. You’d been mid-match, only half-paying attention at first, but then she’d started making jokes, and somehow you’d ended up talking until the sun came up.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. “That was... pretty cool.”

“Exactly,” she says, her smile growing. “You made me feel better that night without even trying. And it wasn’t just that. It’s everything. The way you talk, the way you think. You don’t even realize how... captivating you are.”

You glance away, the intensity of her gaze making your stomach twist. “You’re overselling me, Winter.”

“I’m not,” she says, and before you can argue, she climbs into your lap. Her movements are smooth and confident, and suddenly, she’s straddling you, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders.

“You’re scared,” she says softly, her face inches from yours. “And I get it. But if you give me a chance, I promise you won’t get tired of me.”

You look at her, her wide, earnest eyes, her lips slightly parted, and you know she’s being honest. You sigh, leaning your head back against the couch. “I already know I wouldn’t get tired of you,” you admit, your voice low. “That’s the problem.”

Her brow furrows slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” You pause, your hands instinctively settling on her waist. “What if it’s the other way around? What if you get tired of me?”

She stares at you for a moment, and then, without saying a word, she leans in and kisses you. It’s soft at first, her lips brushing against yours gently, but then she deepens it, her hands sliding up to cup your face. It’s not just a kiss—it’s an answer.

When she finally pulls back, her voice is firm. “I’m not going to get tired of you.”

You stare at her, her words settling somewhere deep inside you, and you can’t find it in yourself to argue.

She smiles again, softer this time, her fingers tracing along your jaw. “So... is tomorrow’s coffee still on?”

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “As long as you’re feeling better.”

She grins, her eyes lighting up. “Deal.”

Winter’s hand moves slowly over your chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your shirt. Her gaze softens, though there’s a playful glint in her eyes. “So,” she starts, her tone low and inviting, “what do you think about celebrating this new phase of ours… in bed?”

“You’re sick, Winter.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “I feel cured already.”

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Do you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, leaning in closer, her fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to brush against your bare skin. “And if I’m not, maybe you could… help with that?”

Your laugh is soft, though your body betrays you, your hands already resting on her hips. “You really think I’m gonna fuck you when you’re sick?”

“Why not?” she counters, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “Are you saying you’d stop just because of that?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though your grip on her hips tightens slightly. “Because I actually care about your well-being, even if you don’t.”

Her smile widens, and she leans closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “For the sake of my well-being, I need to be fucked really hard. By you.”

You pull back slightly, giving her an incredulous look. “And how exactly is that supposed to help?”

She shrugs, her fingers sliding further up your chest. “It’s alternative treatment,” she says, her tone teasing. “I’m pretty sure it’s good for circulation or something.”

You shake your head, fighting a grin. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re already hard,” she points out, shifting her weight slightly to grind her hips against your lap. The motion is subtle, but it’s enough to make your cock twitch, the heat of her body pressing against you.

“Winter—” you start, but she cuts you off, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re hard from the thought of fucking a sick, vulnerable girl,” she says, her voice dropping to a provocative whisper.

You smirk, your hands sliding down to squeeze her little ass. “You don’t look very vulnerable right now.”

She laughs softly, her breath warm against your neck. “You’re right. I’m not. In fact, I’m fucking horny.”

Her words send a jolt straight through you, and before you can second-guess yourself, you’re standing, lifting her effortlessly into your arms. Winter squeals softly, her legs wrapping around your waist, her hands locking behind your neck.

“You’re so fucking naughty,” you mutter, carrying her toward the bedroom.

“And you’re irresistible,” she counters, grinning.

You glance down at her, her flushed cheeks, her bright eyes, her lips slightly parted. “You are too,” you admit, your voice quieter. “Too fucking irresistible for your own good.”

She leans in, brushing her lips against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “Then don’t resist.”

You step into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you before lowering her onto the bed. She looks up at you, her messy blonde hair splayed across the pillow, her lips curling into a pout. “Promise you’ll be affectionate with me after?” she asks, her voice soft but laced with mischief. “I'm so sensitive.”

You laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Sensitive? You? That’s the last thing you are.”

Her pout deepens, though the glint in her eyes gives her away. “I can be sensitive!”

“Sure you can,” you tease, your hands already sliding under her shirt. “But I think we both know you’re a lot more dangerous than that.”

She grins, her hands tugging you closer. “Dangerous or not, I’m all yours.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you murmur, lowering yourself over her as your lips capture hers in a kiss that promises everything she asked for—and more.

As you pull back from the kiss, standing over Winter while starting to unbutton your shirt, she suddenly shifts, adopting this dramatic, old-Hollywood expression. Her eyes widen with mock innocence, her hand fluttering delicately to her chest.

“Oh, Doctor,” she says in an exaggerated, breathy voice, like a starlet from a black-and-white film. “Are you sure this… treatment is absolutely necessary?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off. “What?”

“This treatment,” she repeats, pointing vaguely between the two of you. “It feels so… unconventional. I’m not sure I should be here.”

The way she’s looking at you, like she’s trying to win an Oscar, makes you snort. “What the hell are you doing?”

She gasps, putting a hand to her cheek like you’ve just scandalized her. “I’m your patient, Doctor! You mustn’t mock me in my time of need!”

It finally clicks, and you shake your head, chuckling as you play along. “Oh, I see how it is,” you say, pulling your shirt off and tossing it onto the floor, already working on your pants. “Well, don’t worry, Miss Winter. You’re my favorite patient. The most beautiful, the most well-behaved. You deserve the best care.”

She covers her mouth like she’s shocked, then peeks through her fingers with a mischievous grin. “Oh, Doctor, you must say that to all your patients.”

“I don’t,” you say firmly, now standing in just your underwear. You slide your hands slowly down her thighs, her skin soft and warm beneath your palms. “You’re the only one I touch like this. The only one I care for in such a… special way.”

Winter bites her lip, pretending to be shy as she squirms under your touch. “Doctor,” she whispers, her voice trembling with fake innocence. “Promise you’ll take good care of me?”

You smirk, leaning down so your face is close to hers. “I promise. That’s my job, after all.”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks up at you through her lashes. “You make me feel… strange things, Doctor.”

You raise an eyebrow, playing along. “Strange things? What kind of things, Miss Winter?”

She hesitates, biting her lip like she’s embarrassed. “Well… down there,” she says softly, gesturing vaguely toward her hips. “You make me all… wet.”

You fight back a grin, your hands tightening slightly on her thighs. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she continues, her voice growing more dramatic. “And I’ve been having such impure thoughts about you, Doctor. Thoughts about your… hands. And your lips. And other things.”

You let out a low chuckle, leaning down to kiss her, slow and teasing. “That does sound serious,” you murmur against her lips. “But don’t worry, Miss Winter. I know exactly how to solve this.”

She gasps softly, her hands tangling in your hair as she kisses you back, her voice a little less dramatic now and a lot more needy. “Oh, Doctor,” she murmurs, her tone shifting into something real, full of anticipation.

You grab the hem of Winter’s oversized shirt, lifting it slowly, and the sight of her bare thighs makes your breath hitch. But when you lift it higher and realize she’s not wearing panties, her pussy already glistening, you pause.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your eyes locked on her. “You’ve been walking around like this the whole time?”

She grins, her cheeks flushed but full of mischief. “Maybe. It's more practical to simply not wear panties around you.”

You slide a hand between her legs, your fingers brushing against her wetness, and she gasps, her hips jerking slightly. “Soaked,” you murmur, rubbing her gently. “You’re soaked already. You’ve been like this the whole time, haven’t you?”

“Since you walked in,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’ve been dreaming about this cock since you got here.”

You lean in, kissing her hard while your fingers work her pussy, sliding along her slick folds. She moans into your mouth, her hands reaching down to grip your cock through your underwear. The pressure is just enough to make you groan, and she strokes you, slow and deliberate, her fingers wrapping around your length.

“Dreaming about me, huh?” you say, pulling back just enough to look at her flushed face. “Were you even sick, Winter?”

She hesitates, biting her lip before confessing, “Maybe… I'm not that sick.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m noticing that.”

Your fingers slide inside her, and she lets out a sharp gasp, her nails digging into your shoulders. She’s tight, hot, and so wet it’s almost obscene. You move slowly at first, curling your fingers just right, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into your touch.

But then you pull your fingers out, watching as they glisten with her slickness. Without a word, you bring them to her lips. “Suck,” you command softly.

Winter’s eyes widen slightly, but she obeys, parting her lips and taking your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around them, slow and sensual, and the sight of her makes your cock throb painfully.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you mutter, watching the way her lips move, how she looks up at you like she’s daring you to lose control.

You pull your fingers from her mouth with a soft pop, her lips shiny with saliva, and you smirk. “Open your mouth,” you say, your voice rough.

She does as you ask, her lips parting slightly, and you spit, the act filthy and intimate. She takes it without hesitation, her tongue darting out to taste it before you lean in and kiss her hard, your hand gripping the back of her neck.

Your other hand comes up to her cheeks, holding her face as you pull back slightly. “Tell me,” you murmur, your thumb brushing over her flushed skin. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

“That’s not polite,” you say, smirking. “Ask nicely.”

Her eyes darken, and she bites her lip before speaking again. “Please, daddy. Please fuck me. I need you so bad. Please.”

You grin, leaning down to kiss her again before pulling back. “Lie down,” you command.

Winter obeys, sliding back on the bed until she’s lying flat, her legs spreading instinctively. You strip off your underwear, your cock springing free, hard and already leaking.

“Condom?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

She shakes her head, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You know we don’t need it.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “I like to be polite.”

She giggles, her laughter soft and breathy. “You don’t look so polite when you’re fucking me like an animal.”

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between her legs, your cock brushing against her entrance. “And you love it,” you say, rubbing the head of your cock along her slick folds, teasing her.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her hips shifting as she tries to take you in. “Yes, I love it. Please, don’t tease me.”

You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear. “Then beg louder,” you murmur.

Winter’s whines turn into outright begging, her voice trembling as her hips tilt up, desperate to pull you in.

“Please,” she whimpers, her hands gripping the sheets. “Please, I need it so bad. I’ll be your little whore, I promise. I’ll be good, daddy. I’ll do whatever you say—just fuck me already.”

Her words make you grin, the filthy desperation in her voice hitting you in all the right places. You look down at her, her angelic face flushed with need, her wide, pleading eyes fixed on you, and you can’t help but marvel.

“How can you look so sweet,” you murmur, your voice low, “and be such a little slut at the same time?”

Winter moans at the words, her thighs trembling as she spreads her legs even wider. “I’m your slut,” she whispers. “Only yours. Please, please, don’t tease me anymore. I need you.”

“Yeah?” you growl, gripping her hips tightly. “You’re mine, huh? My needy little slut?”

“Yes, daddy,” she cries, her nails digging into the sheets as her head tilts back. “All yours. Please, just fuck me!”

You don’t make her wait another second. With one powerful thrust, you bury yourself inside her, all at once, hard and fast. The sheer heat and tightness of her pussy make you groan, your fingers digging into her hips as her scream of pleasure fills the room.

“Fuck, Winter,” you growl, barely able to hold yourself back. “You’re so fucking tight.”

She’s writhing beneath you, her back arching as her hands grab at your arms, her moans coming high-pitched and desperate. “Yes, yes, fuck—just like that!”

You don’t waste time easing into it. You pull back and slam into her again, setting a violent, unrelenting pace that has the bed creaking and her cries growing louder with every thrust. Her pussy clenches around you, slick and hot and perfect, pulling you deeper every time.

“Goddamn, you take it so good,” you growl, leaning over her as your hips snap against hers. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To get fucked like this?”

“Yes!” she screams, her nails raking down your back. “Yes, yes—fuck me harder! Use me, please!”

“You love being my slut, don’t you?”

“I love it,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “I fucking love it. I’ll do anything—just don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Her legs wrap around your waist, locking you in place as her body trembles beneath you. Her moans are constant, her cries mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. The sight of her like this—messy, desperate, completely lost in you—only makes you go harder, driving into her like you’re trying to ruin her.

“You feel so fucking good,” you groan, your grip on her tightening as you pound into her mercilessly. “This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? Made to be fucked like this?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Winter cries, her voice shaking as she clings to you. “It’s yours—only yours. Please, I can’t take it—please don’t stop!”

Your cock drives into her over and over, each thrust rougher, deeper, more unrelenting than the last. Winter’s high-pitched moans fill the room, her thighs trembling as her hips push up to meet yours, desperate for every inch you’re giving her.

You bring your hand up to her throat, wrapping your fingers around it, just enough for her to feel it. Winter gasps at the touch, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours, and her lips part in a soft, breathy moan.

“You like this, don’t you?” you growl.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need. “I love it. I love how you make me feel.”

You smirk, leaning down slightly, your hand tightening just enough to make her breathing shallow. “You love being submissive, huh? Love being at my mercy?”

Her head tilts back, her eyes rolling slightly as she moans louder, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. “Yes,” she whimpers. “I love it. I love being yours.”

The sight of her—so completely lost in the pleasure, so willing to let you take control—sends a jolt of heat through you. You squeeze her throat a little harder, watching the way her body reacts instantly, her back arching as her pussy clenches around your cock.

“Fuck, Winter,” you mutter, your hips snapping against hers. “You’re so fucking perfect like this. You’re made to be my little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice strained but dripping with need. “I’m your slut—your good little slut. Please, don’t stop, daddy.”

You lean down further, your lips brushing against her ear as your hand stays firmly on her throat. “You like being choked, don’t you? Like how it feels when I take control?”

Her eyes roll back again, her body shuddering beneath you. “Yes, yes—I love it,” she gasps, her voice barely audible now. “Please, don’t stop. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah?” you growl, your other hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks as you thrust into her relentlessly. “You’d do anything for me?”

“Yes,” she moans, her nails digging into your arms. “Anything. I just want to please you.”

You tighten your grip on her throat slightly, watching as her lips part in a silent cry, her body arching off the bed. The way she looks right now—eyes hazy, mouth open, completely at your mercy—drives you insane.

“Good girl,” you mutter, your pace never faltering. “You’re such a good little slut for me. Taking my cock so well.”

Her moans grow louder again, her body writhing beneath you as you push her closer and closer to that edge. But you’re not done yet—you want her completely undone, begging for more, completely yours.

Your cock slams into Winter’s soaking wet pussy with relentless force, the violent pace making her body bounce with each thrust. Her moans are high-pitched, desperate, and completely filthy, and you can feel the way she’s tightening around you, her body trembling as she gets closer and closer.

“I’m close,” she cries, her voice breaking, her nails clawing at the sheets. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

The moment the words leave her mouth, you slow down drastically, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in painfully slow. Winter whines loudly, her hips trying to chase yours for more friction, but you grab her waist, holding her still.

“What did you just say?” you growl, your voice low and dangerous. “You don’t cum unless I say so.”

“Sorry, daddy,” she whimpers, her eyes squeezing shut as her hands grip the sheets tightly.

“Do you?” you challenge, raising your hand and slapping her cheek firmly, just the way you know drives her wild. Her head turns with the impact, her lips parting in a sharp gasp, and her eyes flutter open, looking at you with a mix of surprise and arousal.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“Louder,” you demand, your hand gripping her chin to make her face you. “Speak clearly when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes!” she cries, her voice louder now, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed over. “I understand. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“That’s better,” you mutter, giving her one more light slap for good measure.

Without another word, you lift her off the bed with ease, her small frame fitting perfectly in your hands. You reposition her so she’s sitting in your lap, her back pressed against your chest. The intimacy of the position contrasts sharply with the dominance in your touch as you slide back into her, burying yourself deep.

Winter lets out a choked cry, her hands grabbing at your thighs as you hold her firmly against you. Your chest presses against her back, your arms wrapping around her waist as you start to move again, slow and possessive this time.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your lips brushing against her ear. “You feel so fucking good like this. You’re mine, Winter. My good girl.”

“Yes,” she moans, her head falling back against your shoulder. “I’m yours. I’ll be good, daddy—I promise, I’ll be good for you.”

“You better,” you growl, your teeth grazing her neck as your hands roam over her body, gripping her hips and pulling her down onto your cock with each thrust. “If you want to cum, you’re gonna have to earn it. Be the perfect little slut for me.”

“I will,” she gasps, her body trembling against yours. “I’ll do anything for you. Just don’t stop.”

You hold her tighter, your thrusts growing faster, deeper, the angle making her whimper and cry out with every movement. Her head rolls against your shoulder, her lips brushing against your neck as her hands grip your thighs desperately.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur, your voice rough with lust. “You take me so well. You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice breaking. “Made for you. Only for you.”

Your cock drives into Winter slowly, each deliberate thrust making her squirm in your lap. Her back is pressed tightly against your chest, her flushed skin damp with sweat, and her whines are soft and desperate, filling the room like music. You can feel how badly she wants it—the way her pussy clenches around you, her hips trying to push down to take you deeper. But you don’t let her.

Instead, your hand slides up to her throat, fingers wrapping around her delicate neck, and you give her a firm squeeze. She gasps at the contact, her head tilting back against your shoulder, exposing her throat to you.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “The way I fuck you. The way I tease you.”

“Yes, daddy,” she whimpers, her hands gripping your arms for support. “I love it. I love everything about it.”

You squeeze her throat a little tighter, your lips brushing against her ear. “You sure about that?” you ask, your thrusts slowing even more, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in agonizingly slow. “Because if you’re not, I can stop. I won’t let you cum.”

“No!” Winter cries, her voice high-pitched and panicked. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

You chuckle darkly, your free hand sliding down to grip her hip, keeping her firmly in place as you continue your slow, deliberate pace. “Then tell me,” you growl. “Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it,” she whines, her voice trembling with need. “I love your big, thick cock. I love the way it fills me up, the way it drives me crazy.”

Your cock twitches at her words, and you tighten your grip on her throat just enough to make her gasp. “Yeah?” you murmur, your tone still teasing. “You love the way I fuck you, don’t you? The way I make you beg like this?”

“Yes, yes,” she moans, her head rolling back against your shoulder. “I love it so much. You make me feel so good—so fucking good.”

You smirk, your lips grazing her jawline. “You’re not just saying that, are you?” you ask, your hand flexing around her throat. “Because if you’re lying, Winter, I swear I’ll stop right now.”

Her body shudders, and she turns her head slightly to look at you, her eyes glassy with desire. “I swear,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s true. I love it. I love the way you fuck me. Please don’t stop, daddy. Please, let me cum.”

You study her for a moment, her trembling body, her wide, pleading eyes, the way her voice shakes with desperation. There’s no denying how much she means it, how much she needs this.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your grip on her throat easing slightly as you press a kiss to her cheek. “You’ve been so good for me.”

Winter moans softly, her hands tightening on your arms. “Does that mean I can cum?” she asks, her voice hopeful and needy.

“Not yet,” you reply, your smirk growing. “But soon. I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”

Your hands move up from Winter’s waist to her chest, cupping her small breasts as you start to squeeze and knead them. Her soft moans grow louder, her nipples hardening against your palms as you gradually pick up the pace, your cock sliding deeper and harder into her with every thrust.

“You like this?” you growl, your lips brushing against her ear as you whisper. “You like how I fill you up, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “I love it. I love how deep you are. Please, don’t stop.”

Your fingers pinch her nipples, twisting just enough to make her gasp, and you lean in closer, your breath hot against her ear. “I’m gonna fuck you every day,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “Every chance I get. I’m gonna make you scream so loud the neighbors’ll know exactly how good I fuck you.”

Winter shudders in your arms, her head tilting back against your shoulder as a moan tears from her lips. “Fuck,” she cries, her nails digging into the sheets. “I’d let you. I’d let you ruin me every fucking day.”

The way she says it, so shameless and raw, makes your cock twitch inside her. You smirk, gripping her hips tightly as you pull out slowly, savoring the way her pussy clings to you. Then you shove her forward, letting her fall onto her hands and knees.

“Get on all fours,” you command, your voice rough with need.

Winter scrambles into position, her pale little ass sticking up, her glistening pink pussy on full display for you. She looks back over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as she waits.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stroking her ass lightly before positioning yourself behind her.

Her pussy is already full of creamy slickness, and when you slide back into her, the wet, obscene sound it makes drives you wild. “Shit,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you start to fuck her hard, the bed creaking beneath you.

Winter’s moans grow louder, turning into screams as you pound into her, your cock hitting her deep and fast. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” you growl, your hips slamming against her ass. “So wet and messy for me.”

Her cries are almost incoherent, her body jerking forward with each thrust. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder!” she begs, her voice breaking.

Your gaze drops to her ass, watching the way it bounces with every thrust. Her tight little hole quite inviting as you fuck her, so pink and tempting. You reach out, rubbing your thumb against it in slow, deliberate circles.

Winter gasps, her head snapping up as her back arches. “Oh my God,” she moans, her voice trembling. “Yes, touch me there—please, more!”

You keep rubbing, teasing her hole with your thumb as your cock slams into her harder, deeper. “You like that?” you growl, watching the way her body responds to every touch.

“Yes,” she cries, her hips pushing back against you. “I love it—don’t stop, please!”

Your grip on Winter’s hips tightens as you pick up the pace, your cock slamming into her soaking pussy harder and faster. Her screams are music to your ears, high-pitched and raw, echoing off the walls. Her ass bounces against you with every thrust, the creamy slickness of her pussy making every movement wet and obscene.

At the same time, your thumb continues massaging her tight, virgin asshole, slow, deliberate circles that make her body shudder beneath you. Her moans turn breathless, desperate, her hips twitching as she pushes back against your hand.

“You like it when I play with your ass, don’t you?” you growl, leaning forward slightly, your breath hot against the back of her neck.

“Yes,” Winter moans, her voice trembling with need. “Fuck, yes—I love it!”

“You’re such a fucking slut,” you snarl, your thumb pressing more firmly against her entrance. “Getting off on me fucking your pussy and playing with your ass at the same time. That’s what you are—a needy little slut.”

“Yes,” she cries, her voice breaking. “I’m your slut—only yours. Please, don’t stop!”

You grin, knowing how much she loves hearing you call her that, and you feel her pussy clench tighter around you, her body trembling as she edges closer to the brink.

“I’m close,” she warns, her voice shaky and frantic. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

Your pace becomes brutal, your hips slamming against her ass as you drive into her harder, deeper, faster. At the same time, you press harder on her asshole, teasing her entrance with your thumb.

“You’re gonna cum with my finger in your ass, aren’t you?” you growl.

“Yes!” she screams, her voice raw. “Yes, yes—please, make me cum! I need it!”

You smirk, pushing your thumb in slowly, just enough to stretch her a little, and her reaction is instant. Her back arches sharply, and she lets out a guttural moan, her nails clawing at the sheets.

“Fuck, Winter,” you groan, your cock driving into her harder as your thumb moves slightly inside her. “You’re so fucking tight everywhere. Such a perfect little slut for me.”

Her cries grow louder, her body shaking violently as she teeters on the edge. “I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna fucking cum!” she screams, her voice echoing through the room.

“Do it,” you growl, your grip on her tightening as you fuck her relentlessly, your thumb pressing deeper. “Cum for me. Let me feel it.”

Winter’s entire body tenses, her head snapping back as a scream tears from her throat, so loud it’s a miracle the neighbors don’t start banging on the walls. Her pussy clamps down on your cock, her hips jerking uncontrollably as her orgasm crashes over her, wave after wave of pleasure leaving her shaking and gasping for air.

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling the way her body spasms around you, completely undone.

Her cries eventually fade into soft whimpers, her body going limp beneath you as she collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving. You pull out slowly, your thumb sliding from her ass, and you smirk as you watch her shiver from the aftershocks.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to her back.

You hold Winter close against your chest, showering her neck and shoulders with tender kisses as she catches her breath. Her body is still trembling from the intense orgasm you just gave her, her pussy dripping wet and sensitive. You stroke her hair gently while whispering in her ear.

"Such a good girl for daddy, cumming so hard on my cock like that. You're perfect, baby."

Winter preens under the praise, a proud smile spreading across her flushed face. She's never experienced pleasure this intense before - her whole body is still tingling from the force of her climax. Your words make her feel cherished and special.

"The neighbors definitely heard what a naughty girl you are," you tease, making her bury her face in the mattress with an embarrassed whimper. Her ass wiggles enticingly as she squirms.

"I bet they heard every single moan and scream while I was pounding your tight little pussy. Now everyone knows what a dirty girl you are for daddy.”

Winter's embarrassment only makes her more aroused. She can feel your hard cock still buried deep inside her, and she desperately wants to make you feel as good as you made her feel.

"Please daddy," she whimpers needily, turning her head to look at you with big innocent eyes. "I want to make you cum now. Will you...will you cum in my ass?"

Your cock twitches inside her at those filthy words coming from such a sweet mouth. Hearing your innocent submissive good girl beg for anal makes your head spin with lust.

"Is that what you want, baby? You want daddy to fill up your tight little asshole with cum?" You give her ass a firm squeeze.

"Yes daddy, please," she moans. "After you played with my ass, I can't stop thinking about having you inside me there. I want to feel your hot cum filling me up."

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," you growl, your cock hardening even more. "Begging daddy to cum in your virgin ass like a little anal slut."

Winter whimpers and pushes her ass back against you needily. "Please daddy, keep fucking my pussy and when you're about to cum, just put the tip in my ass and fill me up. I want to feel it so bad."

"Stay right there on your stomach like a good girl," you command, repositioning yourself between her spread legs. Your cock is still buried in her dripping pussy, and you start thrusting again at a steady pace.

Winter moans and arches her back, presenting her ass to you perfectly. "Does daddy like my tight little holes? They're all yours to fill up however you want."

Her dirty talk drives you wild and you pick up the pace, fucking her pussy harder. "Keep talking like that baby, tell daddy what a naughty anal slut you are.”

"I'm your anal slut daddy," she pants between moans. "I want you to stretch my virgin asshole and fill it with your hot cum. I've been such a good girl, please give me my reward."

You spread her plump ass cheeks apart with both hands, exposing her tiny pink asshole. The sight of that tight virgin hole makes your cock throb with need. You start fucking her pussy even faster, your heavy balls slapping against her clit.

"Look at this perfect little asshole," you growl. "So tight and pretty, just begging to be filled with daddy's cum. You want it bad don't you baby?"

"Yes daddy, please! I need it so bad," Winter begs shamelessly. "Cum deep in my ass, mark me as yours. I want to feel your hot cum dripping out of me."

Her filthy words push you closer to the edge. You spread her ass wider, watching your cock slide in and out of her soaked pussy while her tight asshole clenches and relaxes invitingly.

"Such a dirty little anal virgin," you pant. "Begging daddy to take your ass and fill you up. I'm going to cum so deep inside that tight hole."

Winter's moans get louder and more desperate. "Please daddy, I'm ready for you. Put it in my ass and fill me up with your cum. I want to be your anal slut."

You can feel your orgasm building as you pound her pussy relentlessly. Her tight walls squeeze your cock perfectly while she continues begging for anal.

"Daddy please, I need your cum in my ass so bad. Make me your anal princess. Fill up my virgin hole."

When you're right on the edge, you pull out of her dripping pussy. With one hand you spread her ass cheek wide, exposing her tiny pink hole. With the other, you guide the head of your cock to press against her virgin entrance.

The tight ring of muscle resists at first, but then the head of your cock pops inside her ass. The incredible tightness sends you over the edge instantly. Winter cries out as she feels your hot cum start flooding her virgin asshole.

"Fuck baby, taking daddy's cum so deep in your ass," you groan as you empty your balls inside her. "Such a good anal slut for me."

Winter moans and shivers as she feels each hot spurt of cum filling her ass. The head of your cock stays snugly buried in her incredibly tight hole as you finish cumming.

When you finally pull out, your cum immediately starts leaking from her stretched asshole. You spread both of her cheeks wide apart to watch the erotic sight of your white cum dripping down toward her pussy.

"Look how pretty your ass looks leaking daddy's cum," you praise her. "Such a perfect little anal princess."

Winter whimpers and wiggles her ass. "Thank you daddy. I loved feeling you cum in my ass."

You continue admiring the view of your cum trickling from her freshly-fucked hole. Her virgin ass took you so well, stretching perfectly around the head of your cock.

"We're definitely doing that again baby," you tell her, giving her ass a playful smack. "Now daddy knows what a naughty anal slut you can be."

Winter blushes but smiles proudly, happy to have pleased you. She can still feel your hot cum inside her ass, marking her as yours.

You lay down beside her and pull her into your arms, peppering her face with soft kisses. She snuggles against your chest contentedly while your cum continues slowly leaking from her ass.

"Such a good girl for daddy," you murmur. "Taking my cock in your virgin ass like that. Did you like having daddy's cum filling you up?"

"Yes daddy," she says shyly. "It felt so naughty but so good. I loved feeling you cum inside me."

You stroke her hair and hold her close, letting her bask in the afterglow of her first anal experience. Her body is completely relaxed against yours, thoroughly satisfied.

"Next time I'll fuck that tight ass properly," you promise. "Really stretch you open and fill you with cum over and over."

Winter shivers with arousal at your words. "Yes please daddy. I want to be your anal slut whenever you want."

You spend the next little while cuddling and exchanging soft kisses, your hands roaming over her curves possessively. Winter occasionally squirms as she feels more of your cum trickling from her ass.

"Should we get cleaned up baby?" you ask after a while, noticing the mess of cum between her legs.

"Not yet," she says, clinging to you. "I like feeling your cum inside me. Makes me feel like I'm yours."

You smile and kiss her forehead. "You are mine baby. My perfect little anal princess."

—

You sit across from Winter at a small café table, the sunlight spilling through the large windows and catching the golden streaks in her blonde hair. She’s wearing a light yellow sundress that flares out just above her knees, a little bow tied at the waist. The dress shows just enough skin to drive you crazy while still looking effortlessly cute. Her white sneakers complete the look, giving her an innocent, casual charm that feels so uniquely hers.

Winter’s playful smile is fixed on you, her chin propped on her hand as she stirs her iced coffee lazily with a straw. She’s got that look, the one that says she knows something you don’t. Probably feeling like she’s already won whatever unspoken game you’re playing.

“You’re really feeling better?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take a sip of your drink.

She nods, her grin widening. “Completely cured.”

“You sure? Because you got better awfully fast. Makes me wonder if you were even sick in the first place.”

Winter lets out a soft laugh, twirling the straw between her fingers. “That’s because of you,” she says, batting her lashes mockingly. “You were such good… medicine.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Medicine, huh? Pretty sure I broke a few ethical guidelines as your doctor.”

“Yeah, well,” she teases, leaning forward slightly, “I’m not complaining.”

She looks too damn proud of herself, and you can’t resist poking at her.

“Hey, you spilled some coffee on the table,” you say, pointing to where she spilled it.

“Oh, you're right! Hand me a napkin.”

You pick up a napkin and slide it toward her. “Here. Do you clean by yourself or do you want daddy to help you?” you ask, purposely raising your voice a little.

The shift is instant. Winter’s playful confidence crumbles as her cheeks turn bright red, her eyes darting around the café to make sure no one heard.

“Are you insane?” she hisses, grabbing the napkin and glaring at you. “Don’t say things like that in public!”

You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the table. “Why not? You seemed to love it in bed yesterday. Hell, you couldn’t stop saying it.”

Her face gets even redder, and she throws the napkin back at you, hitting you square in the chest. “I was dying of embarrassment even leaving the house today!” she exclaims. “I’m pretty sure the neighbors really heard everything.”

Your laughter only makes her more flustered, and you lean back, grinning. “Hey, you asked for it. Literally.”

Winter groans, burying her face in her hands for a moment before peeking out at you. “You’re insufferable.”

“You chose the insufferable,” you say smoothly.

She tries to hold her annoyed expression, but a small smile slips through. “Whatever,” she mutters, picking up her coffee again.

“So,” you say after a moment, tilting your head. “You gonna call me daddy again later?”

Winter glances up at you, her lips twitching as she tries not to smile too much. “Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes meeting yours. “I love calling you that.”

There’s a moment of silence, charged but comfortable, before you clear your throat. “Anyway, why’d you pick this café again? There are like, fifty others places we could’ve gone to.”

Winter shrugs, stirring her drink again. “Last time didn’t count.”

“Didn’t count?”

She looks up at you, her expression soft but serious. “You dodged all my questions last time. You didn’t even seem like you wanted to be there.”

The guilt hits you instantly, and you exhale, leaning forward. “Yeah, I… I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t you, though. It’s just…” You pause, lowering your head. “You already know the reason.”

Winter nods. “I know. But it still kind of sucked.”

You nod, meeting her gaze. “You’re right. It did. I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry. But I’m here now. And this time, I won’t run.”

Her smile grows, slow and genuine, lighting up her entire face. “You promise?”

“Promise,” you say softly.

Winter leans forward, resting her chin in her hand again, her grin turning playful once more. “Good. Because I wasn’t gonna let you run anyway.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out.”

For the first time in a long time, you feel it—something steady, something warm. Maybe this time it’s worth the risk. Especially with her.

#winter smut #aespa winter smut #Aespa smut #winter x reader #Kim Minjeong smut #kim minjeong x reader #Winter x male reader #aespa kim minjeong #kpop male reader #winter fluff #Kim Minjeong fluff #kpop gg smut #kpop m!reader #kpop male oc

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faebled-stories · 8 months ago

Text

The Touch of Time

Kinkvember Day 15: Breeding

Aespa Winter (Kim Minjeong) x Male reader

11.6k words

AN: We are halfway done! This is the longest fic so far, I really enjoyed the concept. Thank you all for the continuous support💖

In the distant future, humanity had shed many of the biological “weaknesses” that once defined it. From the moment of birth, every individual was fitted with a slim, almost invisible patch on their abdomen. This patch, designed to suppress primal desires and impulses, was hailed as a revolutionary step forward in the control of human behavior. Gone were the distractions of physical intimacy, the emotional turbulence tied to desire, and the chaotic unpredictability of natural reproduction.

DNA was now quietly harvested from a simple strand of hair, and reproduction took place in sterile laboratories, pristine and efficient. Physical touch, especially in the context of intimacy, was considered primitive, even taboo—an unnecessary relic of a less evolved past.

Minjeong, a young historian with an insatiable curiosity for the “old ways,” had always felt slightly out of place in this world. Her field of study focused on the intricacies of ancient human customs, the rituals and behaviors that had once bound people together. She spent her days in archives and libraries, poring over fragments of lives long gone.

Sometimes, in moments of quiet reflection, she wondered what it might have been like to live in a time when physical connection hadn’t been stifled by a patch. Yet, even with her questions, she had never truly dared to challenge the norms she had grown up with—until the day she discovered the book.

It was hidden, almost intentionally, in a shadowed corner of the university's vast, neglected library, coated in dust as if the world had tried to forget it. The cover was nondescript, worn smooth by time, with no title to hint at its contents. But as Minjeong opened it, a chill crept down her spine, and her heart began to pound.

The pages held something she had only read about in the most clinical terms: they described, in startling detail, how humans had once procreated—naturally, through touch, mutual pleasure, and deep, emotional connection. These words, so evocative and raw, held an intimacy she had never encountered, not even in fleeting dreams. The patch she wore had always silenced any stray curiosity about such things, but now, as she read each vivid passage, something unfamiliar and undeniable began to awaken inside her.

As she pored over the descriptions, a strange, tingling warmth spread through her body. She could hardly believe what she was reading—the language spoke of touch, skin meeting skin, the rush of unrestrained joy, sensations too elusive to truly grasp, yet undeniably alluring. She felt a pull, as though the book was leading her somewhere deeper within herself, a place she hadn’t known existed.

She kept reading, page after page, her cheeks flushing, her breath catching at times as she envisioned the “lost art” of human connection. What would it feel like, she wondered, to touch another person like that? To be touched, to share in a pleasure as mutual and instinctive as the book described.

Unable to contain her fascination, Minjeong decided to share her discovery with her friends. She met Karina, Giselle, and Ningning at their usual café, a sleek establishment with an atmosphere as controlled and pristine as the society it served. They were her closest friends, the only ones who tolerated her historical musings, though they saw them as mere eccentricities.

As they sipped on perfectly brewed coffee, Minjeong took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain.

“So,” Minjeong began, her voice edged with excitement and trepidation, “I found this book in the library. It’s about... how humans used to procreate, you know, before the patch system.”

Giselle’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out a dismissive laugh. “Oh, here we go again. Minjeong, your obsession with ancient history is cute and all, but nobody wants to hear about people being all... gross and sweaty with each other.”

Minjeong’s face fell, but she pushed on, determined. “It’s not gross. It’s fascinating. The book describes the way they used to connect physically—how touch meant something. They had this thing called ‘orgasms,’ where their bodies would—”

“Orgasms?” Karina interrupted, giggling incredulously. “You mean, like, they’d enjoy rubbing up against each other? Like animals? That’s seriously disgusting.”

Ningning made a face, shaking her head. “I mean, why would anyone want that? We’ve evolved past that kind of stuff for a reason. I can’t even imagine wanting someone to touch me like that. Ugh.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed, but she pressed on, hoping to convey what she had felt while reading. “But don’t you see? It wasn’t just about the physical. The book talks about an emotional bond, a connection we can’t even comprehend anymore. Doesn’t that make you curious?”

Giselle leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Curious? More like horrified. People used to waste time on that nonsense when we have perfectly good tech now. Why would anyone choose to go back to those primitive, messy days?”

Ningning chimed in, her tone a mix of disbelief and pity. “And for what, unnie? So we could feel... what exactly? A little thrill? That’s why we have simulations and sensory upgrades. Why would you even want something so... physical?”

“It’s not about just feeling something,” Minjeong said softly, though her voice shook. “It’s about connection. The book talks about something that went beyond just pleasure or physicality. It describes a bond, an intimacy that’s emotional, even spiritual. Don’t you ever wonder what that would be like?”

Her friends exchanged glances, almost as if they were silently agreeing that Minjeong had gone a step too far.

Karina crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “Honestly, Minjeong, you’re starting to sound a little obsessed. You’ve read too many old books, and now you’re idealizing a time when people barely understood themselves, let alone each other. It’s sad, really, how desperate they were.”

“Yeah,” Ningning agreed, shaking her head slowly. “You’re talking about a past that’s been left behind for a reason. I mean, if it was so great, why didn’t people keep doing it? They moved on, unnie. We all have.”

The conversation shifted soon after, with the others eagerly diving into discussions of their daily lives, work, and the latest technological advancements. Minjeong felt a heavy ache in her chest as she realized her friends couldn’t understand, and worse, they had no desire to try.

She thought of the book’s vivid descriptions—the gentle brush of fingers on skin, the shared gasps of pleasure, the promise of something deeper than she had ever known. It was as if she had stumbled upon a secret hidden within herself, and now, in the presence of her friends, that secret felt more precious but also more isolating.

Karina glanced at her, almost scolding. “Listen, Minjeong, you should probably stop reading stuff like that before it gets too far into your head. You’ll end up wanting things that just... don’t exist anymore.”

As they laughed and changed the subject, Minjeong stayed quiet, her mind lingering on the words in the book, replaying them in her thoughts like a forbidden melody. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the book was more than just a historical relic. It was a portal to something lost yet profoundly human—something she had been denied all her life.

Over the next few days, Minjeong’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about the book. The descriptions of intimacy, of deep pleasure, and undeniable connection replayed in her head, each line lingering like a tantalizing whisper. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had glimpsed something profound, something long buried beneath the surface of her controlled world. The idea of experiencing real touch, raw and unfiltered, was impossible to ignore.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, she decided to track down the author. The book seemed modern enough that she guessed its writer might still be alive. Hours of searching through online records and old archives finally led her to a name, yours.

She imagined you as an older scholar, perhaps with a lifetime of wisdom etched into your eyes—a figure hardened by years of research and deep understanding. But when she met you, her expectations unraveled. You were young, intense, and enigmatic, with a kind of fire in your gaze that spoke of passions and convictions hidden beneath the surface. In your eyes, she saw something she hadn’t expected: the same fascination with the past, the same relentless hunger to understand what had been lost.

Sitting across from each other in a quiet café, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how differently you seemed to see the world. As you talked, your expressions shifted with each thought, a flash of yearning in your eyes that mirrored her own. Your voice carried a weight, each word carefully chosen as if guarding a truth no one else would understand.

“It’s strange,” she murmured, stirring her tea slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve spent so long studying history, but I never realized how disconnected I feel from… everything. And then I read your book, and it felt like something inside me woke up, something that had been quiet my entire life.”

You leaned forward, a softness in your gaze that made her feel seen. “I know exactly what you mean,” you replied, your voice low and warm. “That’s why I wrote it. I wanted to preserve something real, something that made us human. The world today—it’s too sanitized, too empty. The patch has robbed us of something vital, something that our ancestors once cherished.”

She paused, uncertain whether to share her feelings about the reactions she’d faced from her friends. But your understanding eyes, the way you listened as if her words were precious, made her feel safe.

“My friends… they don’t understand,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “They think it’s disgusting to even consider physical touch or intimacy. When I tried to tell them about the book, they laughed. They don’t want to imagine it, let alone experience it. I feel… so alone.”

Your expression softened as you listened, and you hesitated just a moment before reaching out, your hand hovering near hers. The space between your fingers felt charged, almost electric. “You’re not alone, Minjeong,” you said, voice steady yet full of emotion. “I’ve thought about it constantly, too. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to take off the patch… to feel something real. But… I’ve never met anyone who would even consider it.”

Her heart pounded at your words, the thought flickering to life in her mind. She had been wondering the same thing for days—the possibility of removing the patch and experiencing everything the book described. Just imagining it made her pulse quicken, filling her with equal parts excitement and apprehension.

“Do you think…” Minjeong hesitated, searching your face. “Do you think we could try it? Take off the patch?”

You looked at her in surprise, something deeper stirring in your eyes—a longing that mirrored her own. “You mean… actually take it off?” you murmured. “You know it’s illegal, right?”

She nodded, feeling her breath catch, a flutter of thrill and nerves swelling in her chest. “Yes. I know. But… I want to know what it’s like. With you.” She paused, swallowing. “We just met but... I trust you.”

The air around you seemed to shift, growing thicker with the unspoken possibility lingering between you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing gently against her arm, and even this slight contact sent a jolt through her, a strange warmth spreading from the place where your skin met hers.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice soft, eyes locked on hers. “Once we do this, Minjeong, we can’t go back.”

She met your gaze, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mixture of excitement and something else—an ache she couldn’t explain. “I’m sure.”

The decision was made. Together, you prepared to take a step into the unknown, an act that felt both terrifying and thrilling. Moving in tandem towards stillness of your apartment, everything seemed sharper, as though the air itself were holding its breath with you. Minjeong lay down on your bed, her breathing shallow, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

With a steadying breath, she began to strip, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She lifted her shirt over her head, revealing smooth, bare skin and the soft fabric of her bra hugging her form. Her fingers hesitated briefly before slipping down to unbutton her pants, sliding them off her legs until she stood there, clad only in her bra and panties. The small, smooth patch on her abdomen glinted faintly in the soft light—a mark of society’s control that had rested there for as long as she could remember.

To Minjeong, that patch represented a lifetime of safety, control, and order. It was all she had ever known, a constant presence that quieted any restless stirrings she might have felt. And yet, now, with you beside her, that little patch seemed more like a barrier—a thin, deceptive shield that stood between her and a life of real, unbridled sensation. For the first time, she felt ready to shed it.

You knelt beside her, heart hammering as your fingers hovered just above her skin. A thousand questions flickered in your mind, but one glance at Minjeong’s face told you she felt the same determination you did. This was an uncharted intimacy, raw and vulnerable, and as you gently laid your hand on her side, you felt the heat of her skin, warm and alive beneath your touch.

“Are you ready?” you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as though the room could be shattered by any louder sound.

Minjeong’s eyes met yours, filled with a trust so complete it took your breath away. She nodded, her voice a delicate thread. “I trust you.”

With a deep breath, you carefully examined the patch, your fingers brushing over its edges, searching for the small, hidden stitches. You had studied its design and knew the mechanics, but this was different. Here was Minjeong, lying before you, vulnerable, willing to let you unlock something deeply forbidden.

Your fingers found the first stitch, and with painstaking care, you began to unfasten it. Each small movement felt weighted with meaning, every shift of your hand a step further into the unknown. As you worked, a tiny prick of resistance tugged back each time you pulled at a stitch, as though the patch itself knew what you were doing, as though it was reluctant to release its hold.

A soft, sharp gasp escaped Minjeong’s lips halfway through, her hand instinctively reaching for you. She clutched your arm tightly, her grip firm yet trembling as she squeezed. Her breaths came quicker, each inhale shallow, as though her body itself were already bracing for the world that lay beyond the patch’s control.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice gentle and soothing. You brushed your thumb softly against her arm, steadying her. “Hang in there, okay?”

Your words seemed to ground her, and slowly, she nodded, her face easing as she held onto you. The tension in her shoulders melted just enough for you to continue, and she focused on your voice, your touch, letting the pain drift away.

Finally, the last stitch slipped free. The patch gave way with a faint click, and as you lifted it, Minjeong’s entire body tensed, then softened in a single, breathless moment. Her eyes widened, a gasp catching in her throat as a strange warmth began to spread beneath her skin.

It felt like an electric current, a gentle buzz awakening nerves that had long been asleep. Her pulse quickened, beating fiercely against her ribs, echoing in her ears as her senses seemed to open, stretching in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

The air felt sharper, the softness of the bed more pronounced against her back, the sound of your breathing louder, more intimate. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she blinked up at you, her gaze dazed, overwhelmed by the torrent of sensations flooding her.

Your own breath hitched as you watched her, feeling the weight of her unguarded trust, the openness in her gaze. Her vulnerability mirrored your own, and it gave you the courage to act. With a steeling breath, you reached for your patch, the small, oppressive mark that had governed your life for so long.

Your fingers trembled as you slipped them beneath its edges, the adhesive resisting your touch. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for the pain. Gritting your teeth, you tugged hard. A sharp, searing ache ripped through your side, fiery and almost unbearable, as if the patch was trying to hold on, refusing to let go of the control it had over you.

But then it came free, leaving your skin raw and tingling, and you gasped, clutching the small device in your hand.

As the pain faded, a new sensation filled the space it left—a pulse of energy that rushed through your body, illuminating every nerve. The world sharpened around you, clearer, more vivid, as though a veil had been lifted. The faint hum of distant noises, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed—everything felt magnified, brimming with a life you had never felt before.

For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, eyes wide, barely able to process the surge of sensations overwhelming you both. Each heartbeat, each breath, seemed to resonate with newfound depth, rippling through you in waves.

You looked at her, marveling at the transformation in her expression, her eyes wide and glistening with wonder. She looked back, her face a reflection of the awe you felt, a silent affirmation that you were both feeling something real, something profound.

“Do you feel it?” you asked softly, voice hushed with reverence, your gaze locked with hers.

Minjeong nodded, her lips parting as her voice came in a soft, breathless whisper. “I feel… everything.”

Without the patch, every touch, every brush of skin felt magnified, alive with a rawness that left Minjeong dizzy. Her senses felt heightened, each nerve sparking as if awakened for the first time. The air seemed thicker, charged with an energy she could almost taste, and her skin buzzed with an unfamiliar intensity. When you reached out, gently placing your hand on her thigh, her entire body jolted as a wave of warmth spread from where your hand rested, pulsing outward. Her breath hitched, her heart thudding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, craving more of this strange, electric feeling she couldn’t name.

Your hand moved slowly, almost reverently, sliding higher as your fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. Each tiny movement sent sparks through her body, lighting up places within her that had been silent all her life. Minjeong’s body quivered, her skin hyperaware of every inch you touched, as if your fingers were leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her hips shifted involuntarily, her body responding to you with an eagerness she barely understood but couldn’t resist.

When your fingers brushed over the delicate place between her legs, a flood of sensation hit her, and her control snapped, unraveling as her entire being reacted to that single touch. The pressure, the intensity—it was overwhelming. She felt her body arch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as a surge of heat radiated through her, more powerful than anything she could have imagined.

“Oh—oh my God,” Minjeong gasped, her voice trembling as her hips bucked against your hand, her body acting on instincts that felt both new and achingly familiar.

You froze for a moment, watching her with wide eyes as her body trembled under your touch. Minjeong’s breath came in short, desperate bursts, her chest rising and falling as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure surged within her. She reached out, clutching at your arm as if you were her anchor, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of awe, confusion, and something else—a deep, unspoken yearning.

“What’s happening to me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, breathless, as her body shook, caught in a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You looked down at her, your gaze filled with understanding and warmth, as if you knew exactly what she was feeling. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, you leaned closer, your voice low and soothing. “I... I think you just had an orgasm.”

The word echoed in her mind, stirring memories of the book’s descriptions—the culmination of human intimacy, the apex of physical connection that had always seemed like a distant concept.

She remembered the clinical language, the detached explanations, and realized just how shallow those words had been. They hadn’t prepared her for this—something so consuming, so raw it made her feel as though she was discovering a part of herself that had been hidden all her life.

Her fingers tightened around your arm, anchoring herself as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her, each one leaving her a little more breathless. “That was... an orgasm?” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you watched her, your expression filled with tenderness and awe. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just like in the book... but maybe better than either of us ever imagined.”

Minjeong lay back, her mind reeling, as her body continued to hum with the afterglow of pleasure. She felt alive, awake in a way she’d never known before, as though she’d unlocked something deeply hidden within her. She had just experienced an orgasm—something her body had been denied all her life, a sensation so visceral it left her trembling.

“I... I didn’t think it would feel like that,” She admitted, her voice soft and still a bit unsteady. She looked up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. “It felt... so much more than anything I read. It was like... like I was completely free, like I’d let go of something I’d been holding onto forever.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing her cheek in a gentle, grounding touch. Your gaze was steady, filled with warmth, as if you truly understood what she was feeling. “It’s different when you experience it,” you said softly, your voice soothing. “The patch kept it all locked away for so long... it makes sense it would feel this intense.”

As the waves of her orgasm began to subside, a new feeling stirred within Minjeong—an instinctual curiosity, an urge she hadn’t anticipated. She felt an almost primal desire to reciprocate, to touch you the way you had touched her. If her body had responded so powerfully, so completely, to your touch, what would happen if she reached out to you?

The thought of seeing you experience that same kind of release, of watching your body tremble and surrender to pleasure, sent a fresh surge of excitement coursing through her, a thrill that made her heartbeat quicken.

Without hesitation, she shifted closer, her fingers reaching out tentatively to trace a line down your stomach. The feeling of your skin under her fingertips felt both foreign and exhilarating. She could feel your muscles tense beneath her touch, your breath hitching as her hand drifted lower, guided by a mixture of curiosity and a lingering echo of the sensations she’d just experienced.

Her movements were deliberate yet hesitant, testing the boundaries of her newfound courage. Slowly, Minjeong’s fingers found the waistband of your pants. With a slight glance up, her gaze met yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she hooked her fingers into the fabric, tugging them down along with your boxers in a single motion, exposing you completely. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop.

Her hand moved with a new confidence, wrapping around you gently, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through your body. You exhaled sharply, the sensation overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but notice the way your body responded instantly to her. A soft groan escaped your lips, your hips shifting slightly toward her touch as if your body was seeking more.

She began to move her hand slowly, cautiously, her strokes experimental but deliberate, guided by what she’d read and a deep, unspoken desire to bring you the same kind of pleasure she’d just felt. The weight and heat beneath her palm were new, almost intoxicating, as she adjusted to the rhythm that seemed to draw those delicious, throaty sounds from you.

“Minjeong…” Your voice was low, breathless, your eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she whispered, her determination evident in the way her strokes became more confident. “I want you to feel what I felt.”

Her hand moved steadily, her touch becoming bolder as your body reacted to her. She felt the tension ripple through your muscles, your breathing growing heavier with every passing moment. Each groan, each subtle arch of your hips, sent a shiver down her spine, fueling her desire to keep going.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as her pace quickened, her strokes more purposeful now. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you. She watched your face, captivated, as the tension in your body built toward an inevitable release, your hips moving in time with her hand in a desperate, instinctual rhythm.

Minjeong’s curiosity got the better of her as she adjusted her position, leaning closer to get a better look. Her eyes lingered on every detail, mesmerized by how your body responded to her touch. She wanted to see everything, to witness the effect she had on you up close. Her hand continued its rhythm, her strokes steady and deliberate, her lips slightly parted in concentration as her gaze stayed fixed on you.

Then, with a deep, guttural moan, your body tensed, your muscles tightening as your climax surged through you. Minjeong’s eyes widened as she felt the first sudden, hot burst against her hand. She gasped in surprise, her heart pounding as she watched, unable to look away. The release was powerful, shooting hard and fast, catching her completely off guard.

A warm streak hit her cheek and trailed down to her jaw, while more landed on her neck and pooled in her hands. Her breath hitched as she stared, her lips parting in astonishment at the sight. The moment felt surreal, intimate, and raw, leaving her stunned and unsure of what to say or do.

Her face flushed a deep red as she glanced up at you, her hand still resting lightly against you. “Oh my God,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Did I… did we waste it? I-It’s supposed to… you know… go inside.” Her gaze flicked nervously between you and the evidence pooling in her hands, uncertainty clouding her features.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from the high, your body still trembling slightly from the intensity. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the glazed expression softening as you met her worried gaze. A gentle smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a low, reassuring chuckle.

“No, Minjeong,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You didn’t mess up. This… this is normal. You did everything right.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, her lips curving into a shy, tentative smile as she glanced down at the evidence of her effect on you. Still holding it in her hands, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Despite her initial embarrassment, a flicker of pride warmed her chest—she’d brought you to this moment, and it filled her with an intoxicating mix of exhilaration and wonder.

Minjeong’s gaze lingered on her hands, her fingers glistening with the warm remnants of your release. A curious expression crossed her face as she processed everything, her mind racing. She had read about this before—about the way a man’s body reacted at the height of pleasure—but witnessing it firsthand, feeling the heat of it against her skin, was entirely different. It was raw, intimate, and strangely captivating.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Almost without thinking, she tilted her hand, letting a small trail of it slide down her finger. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at you as if seeking silent permission. Then, emboldened by the heat still lingering between you, she brought her finger to her lips.

The taste was unexpected—salty, slightly bitter—but it sent a shudder through her, her body reacting instinctively. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as she licked her lips, the unfamiliar sensation heightening the arousal already simmering within her. The intimacy of the act, the knowledge that it came from you, made her heartbeat quicken.

Minjeong glanced up at you, her eyes dark with unspoken emotion, the lingering taste on her lips seeming to ignite something deeper within her. “It’s… different,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with a quiet, almost shy desire. Yet there was no mistaking the spark in her gaze as she leaned closer, her curiosity and arousal intertwining in a way that left her yearning for more.

“But… what now?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Does it… does it take a long time to… I don’t know… come back?”

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reached for the edge of the blanket, wiping yourself clean, your gaze warm and understanding. “No, not as long as you’d think,” you replied softly. “Just give me a minute… trust me, with the way I’m feeling right now? It won’t take long.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed as she felt the tension still pulsing between them, an intensity that hadn’t faded but had only grown stronger. Though her body had already released once, it was still alive with a hum of anticipation, craving more of the closeness that had only begun to reveal itself. Her skin felt sensitive, every inch of her alive and awake, and the desire that lingered between you both seemed almost endless.

As you pulled her close, your breath warm against her ear, your voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. “The desire… it’s unbearable, isn’t it? We’ve held it back for so long… now that it’s free, it’s hard to stop.”

She nodded, her own breath catching as she leaned into you, feeling the heat radiating from your body. “I didn’t think it would be like this,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s like… I can’t get enough.”

Your hands drifted down her back, fingers tracing slow, delicate paths that sent tingles down her spine, igniting her senses further. With deliberate care, you reached for the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and sliding the straps down her arms, exposing her to your gaze. She shivered under your touch, the anticipation in her eyes mirrored by the rising heat between you. Gently, you guided her panties down her hips, leaving her completely bare before you.

You leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone, each one drawing a soft gasp from her lips. Your mouth trailed lower, worshipping her with every kiss as you explored her body, your lips brushing against her chest, stomach, and hips. The warmth of your touch and the intimacy of your kisses set her skin ablaze, her body trembling beneath you as your affection deepened the connection between you.

She could feel you stirring beneath her, your body responding just as eagerly, recovering quickly and pressing against her with a palpable urgency. Her heart raced, her pulse quickening as she realized just how deeply this hunger ran—not fading, but growing, expanding with each heartbeat, filling every part of her with a yearning she hadn’t known was possible.

Her voice barely a whisper, she looked up at you, her cheeks flushed with desire. “I… I want to do it again.”

A flicker of something intense crossed your gaze, desire deepening in your eyes as her words sank in. You leaned in close, your fingers trailing down her stomach with a deliberate slowness, and her body reacted to your touch as if it had been waiting for it all along, each caress building a tension that left her breathless. “Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We can take our time… explore every part of this together.”

Minjeong felt her pulse quicken as your hand drifted lower, each touch more confident, and yet filled with care. There was no rush this time—each movement, each gentle caress felt purposeful, as though you were savoring every moment. Her breath hitched as your fingers found her center, brushing over her with a tenderness that set her body alight. She could feel her hips lifting involuntarily, craving more of your touch, her body arching toward you, completely attuned to the rhythm you were setting.

But you held back, your movements measured, each stroke a deliberate invitation to surrender. Minjeong’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers twisting in them as she fought to keep some sense of control, but every motion of your hand sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her, slowly eroding any restraint she had left. Her mind was hazy, her thoughts blurred as she gave in to the sensations, letting herself feel every spark, every touch.

Your voice, soft and steady, cut through the haze, anchoring her. “I’ll follow what the book says,” you murmured, your tone reassuring yet filled with quiet excitement. “But you can tell me if anything feels too intense… we can go as slow as you want.”

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with trust and anticipation, nodding as her voice caught in her throat. She watched as you reached for the book—the one you’d written, your meticulous research woven into its pages—flipping to a section that you both had studied countless times. Back then, the words were abstract, a roadmap for a journey neither of you had truly embarked on. Now, they felt vivid, alive, as you stood on the edge of turning theory into reality.

Your voice was steady but tinged with wonder as you read aloud, revisiting the descriptions of intimacy that had once seemed so clinical. “This part,” you murmured, “it’s about connection—real, physical connection. It says to feel, not just to touch. To be present in every moment.”

You set the book down beside you, your hands trembling slightly as they moved to her skin. Following your own written guidance, you traced a line down her arm, feeling the softness of her flesh, your touch lingering. “Even after all my research,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never understood how different this would feel. How real.”

Minjeong shivered at your words, her lips parting as your fingers brushed her thigh, gliding lower to gently spread her legs. Her breath hitched, her body already responding to the unspoken promise in your touch. “It says to let the connection build naturally,” you continued, your tone soft yet deliberate. “No rushing, no hesitation… just us.”

Your hand slid between her folds, your fingers moving slowly, reverently, as if committing every detail to memory. Her hips bucked instinctively against your touch, and the sound of her soft moan filled the room. The book’s instructions felt distant now, a framework that was giving way to something far more instinctual, far more profound.

As you continued to explore, positioning yourself over her, you kept your gaze on her, your eyes holding a mixture of tenderness and longing. “According to this,” you murmured, your voice soft and steady, “I’m supposed to… enter you slowly. We can take it at your pace… but once we both reach our climax… I’m meant to stay inside, to hold that connection.”

Her heart pounded, but she nodded eagerly, the words barely leaving her lips as she whispered, “I want that… I want to feel it all.”

With a careful, gentle movement, you positioned your shaft and slowly entered her. The both of you stilled, caught in the shared intensity of the sensation. A rush of warmth spread between you, each of you feeling the other in a way that was beyond description.

Minjeong’s hands found your back, her fingers pressing into your skin as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through her. It felt as though her entire being had awakened, each nerve attuned to the rhythm you created together.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed your voice breaking the quiet.

“So, apparently,” you began, glancing down at the book with a look of intrigued curiosity, “if two people share an emotional connection, every touch, every sensation can deepen the experience. It says to explore, to learn each other’s bodies, to let it build naturally.”

Her breath hitched as your words settled in the space between you, her body already trembling beneath yours as you began to move again. The slow, deliberate rhythm of your thrusts made every nerve in her body feel alive, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. She met your gaze, her vulnerability mirrored in the unspoken trust you shared.

You leaned closer, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, letting your lips linger on her skin. She shivered at the warmth of your mouth, your movements in sync with the rhythm of your hips. Her breath hitched again as you moved lower, your lips brushing against the sensitive curve of her collarbone before descending to her chest. Her body trembled as you kissed her nipples, your tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before your lips wrapped around it.

The sensation was overwhelming, an electric jolt that combined with the fullness of you inside her, making her arch instinctively beneath you. When you began to suck gently, a soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, her hands clutching at the sheets as the intensity of the moment consumed her. Each thrust seemed to amplify the pleasure, the combined sensations creating a crescendo of raw emotion and physical connection.

Her mind raced, her heart pounding as waves of pleasure built steadily within her, each one more powerful than the last. Every pull of your lips, every flick of your tongue, every deliberate movement of your body within hers heightened the connection between you, making her feel more vulnerable and alive than she ever thought possible.

She arched into you, her body moving instinctively in time with yours, her breathing growing shallow and uneven. “This,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, “it’s so much more than I ever thought it could be.” Her words were punctuated by gasps and soft cries, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm you shared.

Each touch, each calculated movement between you was designed to bring you both closer to that edge, but neither of you rushed.

Minjeong felt lost, spinning in the sensations as you guided her towards a second climax, your every touch bringing her closer to that peak once more.

“I’m close again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling, her body tensing in anticipation. “I can feel it…”

“Me too,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. Your hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as you moved with her, your breath hot against her skin. “Let’s do it together.”

Your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, your pace quickening as the tension built between you, an energy so intense that Minjeong felt it vibrating through her very core. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps as her hands gripped your shoulders, feeling the second wave building within her, ready to crest.

The pressure was unbearable, the heat flooding through her body as you moved together, faster, harder, each movement pushing her closer to the edge.

“Now,” you whispered, your voice tight with urgency, as if holding back any longer was impossible. “Now, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s body surrendered completely, her second orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. The sensation was all-consuming, rippling through her in waves that seemed to touch every nerve, every hidden corner of her being.

Her back arched sharply, her head tipping back as her mouth parted in a breathless, almost desperate gasp. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever known—raw, overwhelming, and deeply intimate.

Her legs wrapped tightly around you, instinctively pulling you closer, as if anchoring herself to you in the midst of her climax. The intensity of the moment only heightened as her inner walls clenched rhythmically around you, pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat.

Each contraction was powerful, drawing you deeper, her body gripping you with an unrelenting tightness that seemed to plead for more, to keep you there, locked in this moment of shared ecstasy.

She felt the warmth of your release flooding her, a sensation that sent an unexpected jolt through her body. It was an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling, the heat spreading within her and amplifying her pleasure to a level she hadn’t thought possible. It was raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that it made her tremble in your arms, her body shuddering as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

For you, the feeling was equally overwhelming. Her inner walls milked you with a desperate, almost unrelenting rhythm, each squeeze sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. It felt as though her body was drawing out every drop, holding you tightly in a way that made it impossible to hold back. A deep, guttural moan tore from your lips as you gave in completely, the force of your release leaving you trembling.

Each pulse of your release was matched by her contractions, the two of you locked in a perfect, instinctual rhythm. Her warmth surrounded you, heightening the intensity of your climax, every squeeze of her body dragging out the pleasure, making it feel endless. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken understanding communicated in every motion, every sound, every shared breath.

Minjeong’s cries blended with your own, the room filled with the raw, unfiltered sounds of pleasure. As your climax subsided, the echoes of her soft moans and trembling gasps remained, lingering in the air. You stayed buried within her, her legs still wrapped around you, her arms pulling you close as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Both of you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly consumed by the intensity of what you had just shared—a moment that transcended the physical, leaving an indelible mark on both of your hearts.

For a brief, perfect moment, it was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you, entwined and breathless, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of what you had just experienced. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, rising and falling together as you clung to each other, feeling the lingering aftershocks of pleasure resonate between you.

Minjeong’s chest rose and fell in sync with yours as she held onto you, her heartbeat slowing as she grounded herself in the warmth and weight of your embrace. The sensation of being so close, so in tune, left her feeling utterly content, yet completely vulnerable.

Each time she felt you shift or tighten your hold, she felt the memory of each pulse, each lingering sensation, flooding her with a gentle warmth, a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.

Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as she lay there, absorbing the reality of what you had shared. She felt every lingering pulse within her, each subtle echo of your release, and the closeness left her feeling both exhilarated and deeply moved. She looked up at you, her eyes soft, a small smile on her lips, still too overwhelmed to find words but hoping you could feel the depth of what this moment meant to her.

You brushed a strand of hair from her face, your gaze filled with a tenderness that matched her own, and pulled her close, holding her as you both soaked in the quiet intimacy. The connection between you was more than either of you had expected—something that reached beyond the physical, beyond what words could express. And for now, the world outside could wait.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a wonder that mirrored her own. “That was… more than I ever imagined.”

Minjeong nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak. Her body buzzed with lingering aftershocks of pleasure, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d just experienced. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much, to connect so deeply with another person.

“The book didn’t even come close,” she whispered, her voice trembling as emotions welled up within her. “I didn’t know… it could be like this.”

A gentle smile played on your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking at her with a gaze filled with understanding and affection. “Neither did I,” you replied softly. “I can’t believe we went our whole lives without that.”

You lay together in the quiet of the room, still tangled in each other’s embrace, your bodies warm and relaxed as you both reflected on what had just happened. The weight of your decision to remove the patches, the overwhelming intensity of your shared experiences, and the depth of the connection that had formed left both of you in awe. Minjeong realized then, with a clarity that made her heart ache, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not after this.

A warmth stirred within her, different from before—not just curiosity or experimentation, but something deeper, something that felt like an unstoppable need. Her body craved you, not just to explore, but as if she were drawn to you in a way she couldn’t fully explain. The thought of being close to you again, feeling your touch, sent shivers through her entire body.

You noticed her subtle movement, the way she shifted against you, and gently ran your fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice filled with care and understanding.

Minjeong looked up at you, her heart pounding as her eyes met yours. The connection felt stronger now, more intense, like a current running between you that couldn’t be ignored. “I… I need you again,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Your eyes darkened, a spark of need flashing as you took in her words. Your hand slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against yours. “Already?” you asked with a faint smile, though your voice betrayed the hunger that mirrored her own.

“I can’t help it,” Minjeong admitted, her cheeks flushing as her body pressed against you, feeling every inch of you against her. “I can’t stop thinking about it… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your expression softened as you held her close, sensing the depth of her need and responding with your own. The air thickened between you as you both gave in once more, realizing that the bond you had unlocked wasn’t something that could be silenced or ignored

She felt you stir beside her, your body responding immediately to the heat in her words. The hunger within her sharpened, an intense, primal need that was more than just physical. It was something deeper, something raw and instinctual that seemed to awaken with every heartbeat, urging her closer to you. Her body ached to feel you again, to pull you closer in every way, and the intensity of her need made her breath catch.

Your hands roamed over her body, your touch igniting a fire beneath her skin. The anticipation sent a thrill through her, her pulse racing as she took you in, the desire radiating off both of you like a palpable heat.

“I want to feel you again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her need. “I want you to… to keep going… to keep bre—”

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing, searching for the right words as her eyes met yours. But you seemed to understand without her needing to say it. Your hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as your gaze locked with hers, filled with both passion and tenderness.

“To keep breeding you?” you murmured, your voice thick with both lust and affection.

Her body reacted instantly, a hot wave of sensation spreading through her at your words. The idea of it—of you filling her again and again, the intimacy of it, the unbreakable connection it represented—was overwhelming. She felt her breath hitch as she nodded, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering touch.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I want you to breed me… again and again.”

A soft groan escaped your lips at her words, and you adjusted her position, your hands sliding beneath her thighs as you pushed her legs up, resting them on your shoulders. The shift folded her body slightly under your weight, her knees pressed close to her chest as you leaned into her, your body flush against hers. The angle sent a shiver through her as the anticipation built, her heart racing as she felt your hands gripping her hips firmly.

Slowly, you pressed into her, her body stretching to accommodate you, the familiar pressure igniting every nerve in her body. Minjeong gasped, her head falling back against the pillow as the sensation overwhelmed her. The new angle made everything feel more intense—every inch of you seemed to reach deeper, filling her completely in a way that made her toes curl.

Her hands gripped your arms as her hips instinctively rolled forward, meeting your movements as you began to thrust into her, slow and deliberate at first. Each motion sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, her back arching as you leaned further into her, your weight pressing her firmly into the bed.

The pleasure was electrifying, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge, her body trembling beneath you. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as your pace quickened. Her body folded under your weight as you leaned forward, driving her deeper into the bed.

Your hands slid up her sides, trembling with urgency, before cupping her face gently, your thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. The contrast of your tender touch against the intensity of your movements made her gasp, her soft, breathy moans growing louder as you pressed her further into the mattress.

“Minjeong,” you groaned, your voice thick with need, your gaze locking onto hers. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips only spurred you on, the sight of her beneath you, completely vulnerable and lost in the moment, driving you closer to the brink.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers clung to your shoulders, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I’m completely yours.”

Her words ignited something primal in you, and your movements grew faster, deeper, the new angle amplifying the sensation for both of you. Her body tightened around you, her inner walls gripping you with each thrust, milking you for everything you had. The pressure building within her was almost unbearable, her core aching for release as her muscles clenched and fluttered around you.

Overcome by the intimacy of the moment, you leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her soft, eager response heightened everything, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the rhythm of your bodies. The warmth of her mouth, the way she gasped into the kiss, made every nerve in your body feel electrified.

As your lips pressed harder against hers, you felt her trembling beneath you, her inner walls clenching tightly around your member in rhythm with every thrust. Each squeeze sent shockwaves through your body, the intensity of her responses drawing you deeper into the shared ecstasy. Her whimpers were muffled by your kiss, and her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as if afraid to let go.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, a perfect counterpoint to the raw, primal connection of your movements. Her cries became softer, breathier, blending with your groans as the sensations built to an almost unbearable level.

The intimacy of the kiss, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around you, brought you both closer to the brink, your bodies and hearts completely in sync as you moved together toward the edge.

“Minjeong… I’m close…” you murmured, your voice strained, your body trembling as you fought to hold back for just a moment longer, wanting to bring her over the edge with you.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her hands pressed against your chest, her body trembling beneath yours.

As you tried to hold on, your body trembling with the effort of resisting your release, your position unintentionally shifted. Your hips angled slightly as you pressed into her, and suddenly, your length grazed something deep within her that made her entire body jolt violently.

A sharp, high-pitched cry tore from her lips, her eyes flying open in shock and overwhelming pleasure as her nails dug into your arms. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and desperation, her voice trembling as she gasped, “Oh my God—right there!” Her thighs trembled against your shoulders, her whole body arching into you. “Do that again—please, keep doing that!”

Her reaction sent a rush of adrenaline through you, and despite the accidental nature of the movement, you adjusted to repeat it, angling yourself to hit that spot again. Her cries grew louder, her body tightening around you as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her, the intensity of the sensation completely melted her.

Minjeong's cries grew louder, her body arching beneath you as her legs trembled on your shoulders. The intensity of her pleasure was palpable, each thrust drawing a mix of desperate gasps and cries from her as her walls tightened around you even more, gripping you with a rhythm that was almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, with a powerful thrust, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her with a force so intense it felt as though the entire world had disappeared. The weight of your body pressing her into the mattress, the relentless rhythm of your deep thrusts, the angle perfectly abusing her most sensitive spot—all of it combined into a crescendo of pleasure that overwhelmed her completely.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Minjeong’s mind went utterly blank. The sensations overtook everything else—waves of ecstasy rippling through her as her body convulsed uncontrollably beneath you. Her walls clenched and pulsed around you, milking you desperately, her muscles tightening in a rhythm that seemed to beg for more, even as the overwhelming intensity left her trembling. The warmth of your release filling her, mixing with the previous flood, heightened everything, the feeling of fullness amplifying every pulse, every flutter of her core.

Her body shook violently, her hands clutching at you for grounding as tears welled up in her eyes. A broken sob escaped her lips, her voice trembling as she gasped for air, completely overcome. Her hair was a wild mess, clinging to her damp, flushed face, and her cheeks were streaked with tears she didn’t even realize she was shedding.

Each thrust, each contraction, sent her spiraling further into a blissful haze until her body could only quiver under you, her mind and body utterly consumed by the raw, primal connection.

Finally, her cries softened into breathless whimpers as her climax began to wane, leaving her trembling and spent. You slowed your movements, carefully easing her legs down from your shoulders, and leaned into her, wrapping your arms around her trembling body. She clung to you instinctively, her face buried against your chest as she shuddered uncontrollably, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her release.

“It’s okay,” you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as you held her close. Your hands stroked her back in soothing motions, trying to ground her as she came down from the overwhelming high. Her breaths were uneven, and you could feel her trembling against you, her body still wracked with small, involuntary shakes.

Minjeong’s fingers gripped your shoulders tightly as if anchoring herself, her voice trembling as she whispered, “That was… that was so much… I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel like that.”

You hugged her closer, cradling her against your chest as she melted into your embrace, her trembling gradually easing under your touch. The room was quiet except for the sound of your shared breaths, the intensity of the moment lingering between you. As you held her, her quivers became softer, her body finding solace in your warmth, the bond between you deepened by the raw, unfiltered intimacy of the moment.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, your bodies still humming from the intensity of what you had just experienced. Her heart raced in time with yours, her mind spinning as she held onto you, feeling as though nothing else existed but the two of you.

As the aftershocks of their shared pleasure began to fade, Minjeong lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours. The connection between you was undeniable now—deeper and more intense than anything she had ever imagined. It wasn’t just about the physical closeness anymore; it was the way you looked at each other, the way your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the way her heart seemed to beat in time with yours. She could feel that you were a part of her now, in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and fiercely protective.

You smiled softly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “That… was even better than the first time.”

Minjeong nodded, her body still buzzing in the blissful afterglow. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way,” she murmured, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

“It’s like we’re rediscovering it all over again,” you replied, your voice filled with wonder. “Every time.”

Her heart swelled, a warmth blooming within her that went beyond the physical. She looked up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the sincerity of her emotions bringing a slight tremor to her voice. “I think I’m falling for you,” she whispered, her words laced with a vulnerability she hadn’t shown before.

Your gaze softened, and your hand cupped her face, pulling her closer. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” you whispered back, your lips brushing over hers in a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down her spine.

You lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The quiet moments that followed were thick with understanding, an unspoken connection that now simmered between you both.

Each touch, each kiss felt like a rediscovery of something sacred, something you had both been yearning for without knowing. Minjeong could feel the bond between you growing deeper, a realization that filled her with a comforting sense of security, yet also stirred something unsettling within her.

After a long silence, with her head still resting against your chest and her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, reality began to creep back into her thoughts. She thought about the future—the knowledge you had uncovered together, and what you would do next. What you had discovered was too profound, too life-changing to keep hidden. She lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a determined look.

“We need to tell people,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation. “We can’t keep this to ourselves. Others deserve to feel what we’ve felt.”

You listened, though a shadow crossed your face, your hand stilling as you gently traced her back. “I know… but who do we tell? And how? Most people… they won’t understand. They’ll think we’re out of our minds.”

Sitting up slightly, Her mind drifted to the three other girls she held closest to her heart “Maybe… we start with people close to us. People we trust. Maybe I could tell my friends.”

Your expression remained serious as you considered the idea. “Your friends? The ones who thought the book was just some weird obsession?”

A hint of uncertainty entered her voice, but she pushed on. “Yes. I mean, they laughed it off, but they’re like family to me. They’ve been my closest friends for years. I love them… and maybe, if I explain it to them, they’ll understand. And who knows? Maybe they’ll want to experience it too.”

At first, the idea of sharing this discovery with her friends was thrilling to Minjeong. Karina, Giselle, and Ningning were her closest friends; they had been by her side through everything. If they could experience the depth of what she’d felt with you, maybe it could change their lives, too. But the more she thought about it, the more her excitement twisted into something else.

The thought of them with you—of any of them touching you, experiencing your closeness, seeing the look in your eyes that had been meant for her—left a sour, unsettled feeling in her chest. She imagined your hands on them, imagined you laughing with them, and it made her stomach clench with a sharp pang of jealousy she hadn’t anticipated.

Her heart pounded, and she felt a fierce possessiveness rising within her. This was different; what you shared was hers. The mere image of anyone else sharing in the same closeness made her skin prickle. She shifted, tightening her hold on you almost instinctively, her fingers curling against your chest as she tried to suppress the surge of emotions.

“Actually… maybe not,” she muttered, almost to herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she gazed up at you.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the sudden shift in her tone. “What happened to wanting to tell everyone? Didn’t you say you wanted to help people feel what we’ve felt?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I do,” she stammered, glancing away. “I just… I don’t think they’d get it—not yet. And maybe not them.”

You chuckled softly, amused by her possessiveness, your eyes glinting with teasing curiosity. “Oh, so now you don’t want to tell them?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “Weren’t they your ‘closest friends’ a second ago?”

Her face grew warmer, and she huffed, shifting uncomfortably as she avoided your gaze. “It’s just… they didn’t understand the book at all,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “And besides, I… I don’t want—”

You tilted your head, still smiling as your fingers traced gentle patterns along her back. “You don’t want what?” you asked, your tone soft but teasing. “You don’t want them to know about me?”

A small, frustrated sound escaped her as she buried her face against your chest, mumbling, “I don’t want them to… try anything.”

You chuckled, finding her protectiveness endearing. “So you don’t want anyone else getting too close?” you teased gently, your fingers brushing through her hair.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, her cheeks hot as she sulked against you. She sighed, glancing up at you, her voice laced with worry. “What if they’re curious? What if they want to know what it’s like with you?”

The laughter rumbled softly in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. “Minjeong, you’re overthinking this,” you murmured, stroking her hair. “They don’t need to experience it with me specifically.”

But her mind couldn’t let go. She imagined them asking you questions, seeking the same closeness that had been so deeply personal to her. Her pout deepened as she looked up, her voice quiet but insistent. “But… what if they wanted to try it? What if they wanted you?”

Seeing the worry in her eyes, your expression softened. You brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you held her gaze. “They’re not you,” you said simply, your voice steady and sincere. “What we have… it’s special. No one else can have that.”

Minjeong felt her heart flutter at your words, but a part of her still sulked, her brow furrowing as she clung to you a little tighter. “I just don’t want to share you,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not with anyone.”

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and your voice was warm as you spoke. “You don’t have to. I only want you, Minjeong. You’re the only one I want.”

She let out a soft sigh, nestling closer against you, her tension easing slightly. “But what if they do get curious?” she murmured, almost to herself, her voice filled with a hint of lingering protectiveness. “I know how they are… they always want to try things they don’t understand.”

You chuckled again, finding her jealousy both adorable and sincere. “Minjeong, I promise no one’s going to get between us. If they want to know what we’ve found, we’ll explain it together. But you’re the only one I want to share it with like this.”

She looked up at you, a pout still lingering on her lips, though her eyes softened. “You’re sure?” she asked, her tone almost childlike, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Because I don’t want you to change your mind later… I don’t think I could handle it.”

You gently cupped her face, looking at her with steady, genuine warmth. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you met her gaze. “Minjeong, I don’t want anyone else. What we have is ours. No one else can even come close.”

A small smile began to spread across her face, and she felt her possessiveness slowly fading, replaced by a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “Okay,” she murmured, though a hint of playfulness glinted in her eyes. “But just so you know, if they do try anything, I’m not sharing.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Good to know. But trust me, they’re not going to get the chance.” You pulled her closer, your arms wrapping securely around her, reassuring her with the warmth of your touch. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how protective you are.”

She grumbled, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, you better get used to it,” she muttered, snuggling deeper into your embrace. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t plan on letting anyone else get anywhere near you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” you murmured. “I’d be happy with just you by my side.”

Finally feeling at ease, Minjeong let herself melt against you, feeling a bit silly for her jealousy but incredibly reassured by your words. The tension and uncertainty that had simmered beneath her feelings now softened, melting away as she realized the depth of what you had both discovered. It was something so much bigger than either of you alone—something that the world had long forgotten.

The patch was supposed to protect humanity from its own vulnerabilities, to mute the wild unpredictability of desire, of connection. It had promised a life of control and purpose, of efficiency and calm. But in shutting out the power of feeling, it had left behind a vast emptiness, a numbness that had become so normalized that no one had even realized what they were missing.

But now, she understood the beauty of that vulnerability, the fire of human connection that couldn’t be controlled or contained. Every touch, every shared breath, every heartbeat reminded her that being human wasn’t something to manage or tame. It was messy and consuming, unpredictable and deeply, deeply real. It was finding peace in another’s arms, feeling the thrill of closeness, and, yes, even feeling possessive and protective of the person she wanted most.

Minjeong looked up at you, her gaze warm but serious. “I don’t think I could ever go back to the way things were. Not now that I know what it’s like… to feel everything so deeply. To be connected to you like this.” Her voice was soft but steady, filled with a quiet determination. “It’s like I’m finally… alive.”

You held her closer, your expression filled with a tenderness that needed no words. “I feel the same,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go back either. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can be the ones who bring back what everyone’s lost. Show people what it really means to be human.”

In the quiet warmth of the room, as you both held each other, Minjeong felt the weight of that purpose settle into her heart. What had begun as a curiosity, a glimpse into forgotten history, had turned into something so profound, something that connected her to the core of her own humanity. It wasn’t just love she felt—it was a fierce commitment to the truth you had uncovered together.

“We’ll start slowly,” she murmured, her voice calm but filled with conviction. “One step at a time. Maybe people will be afraid, maybe they won’t understand… but we’ll show them. We’ll show them what we’ve found.”

You nodded, and your hand found hers, fingers intertwining as a silent promise. “Together,” you said, your voice steady.

As the night deepened, the two of you lay there, wrapped in the knowledge that the connection you shared was precious, rare, and undeniably real. It was the beginning of something new, something powerful. And as Minjeong drifted off in your arms, she knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it side by side, carrying the flame of a rediscovered humanity—one that pulsed with raw, unfiltered feeling and a love that no patch could ever silence.

You had both rediscovered what it meant to be human, and together, you would awaken a world that had forgotten.

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