Secret Santa

“Alright everyone. Put your names in this bowl and we’ll get this started!”

One by one, the two dozen workers place their tiny sheets of paper with their names written inside the bowl held by the boss. It’s a year-end Christmas party tradition, a highlight: secret Santa. After receiving everyone’s entries, he shakes it a few times, then instructs everyone to pick up a paper that’s now been completely randomized.

You happen to fall back just behind one of the girls, a relatively new hire compared to the rest. She had been around less than six months as a junior and assistant to the manager mostly, so you barely have any interactions or engagements unless it’s one of those arbitrary team-building dinners held once every quarter. And even then, you both barely speak: in fact, she checks out earlier than everyone else. Which, relatable honestly. She doesn’t even bother to give you a glance over her shoulder. Not that she’s cold or untrusting, simply detached. Like this is something she has no stake in, but has to for— reasons. It’s part of the job.

Most reactions are kept quiet or subdued for obvious reasons. She quickly takes her paper. Then its your turn, with just a handful of sheets available. You make a blind pick, closing your eyes to ensure complete randomness. Then opening, you unwrap the thin slip—

And your gaze immediately flies over to her.

What are the odds?

Here’s the thing: there is no restriction, but plenty of expectation.

There’s no worse feeling than to be given something simple—it just isn’t enough, no matter how noble or pure the intent. So the goal is: to get into Eunbi’s circle and find out what she likes, what she wants the most.

It sounds easier said than done.

From the start, it’s an uphill battle. No hints, no giveaways. Just the name and the assumption that you have some pre-existing knowledge of the person in mind. Only that Eunbi’s an enigma within your workplace; even those that work closely with her everyday provide little to no help. She’s deeply reserved they say: keeps to herself, barely reveals anything personal other than this is her third job within a year.

“She’s worked at other companies before,” says the HR rep during lunch break. “She was at the same firm as—uh—hmm. I’m trying to remember his name, but he used to work here till he got a better offer from that side. They were quite close, but not much else other than that.”

“That’s all?”

“We work together, but not as closely as you’d imagine. My business doesn’t involve her primarily, so I don’t know her that much. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you reply.

“I can try and ask her friends and those in the know if they’re willing to talk. I’m sure they’ll be more helpful. But I can’t promise anything.”

“Appreciate it. Thanks.”

The next day, over some coffee, he manages to get her hands on some intel.

“She’s really into music,” he says. “Like, a lot. Knows how to play guitar and a bit of piano too.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s pretty much it so far when it comes to my sources.”

“Your sources?”

“I know a guy who knows a guy, and so on. No idea who this is, so I can’t tell you much. But I can pass the message along if you want.”

“Please.”

“Just one thing,” he then says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Why are you too invested in Eunbi all of a sudden? As far as I know, you hardly talk, if at all. Don’t tell me—”

“Got her as my secret Santa this year, so—”

“Yeah, say no more. I get it,” he interjects, immediately understanding the subtext. “Don’t wanna ruin their year with another mug.”

You both share a laugh.

“I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything, though. But I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.”

A couple days later, he comes back with brand new information:

“So, the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy told me he can’t really tell me much either, except that she’s a singer. Or at least wanted to be. That’s all he’s willing to say, and I’m not going to pry further.”

“Personal reasons?”

“Didn’t say. But whatever it is, it must’ve been serious. He’s not gonna spill the beans.”

“Shit.”

“I can try and get the guy’s number. See if he’s willing to chat.”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. This is a long shot.”

“Worth a try.”

“Have you thought of a gift for her?”

Pausing, you turn your gaze away from the rep. “No.”

“It’s not too late,” he says, tapping you on the shoulder. “In fact, it’s good that you’re thinking this far ahead. Most people have already bought theirs, or at the very least, have a general idea. And since the Christmas party is still a couple of weeks away, you’ve got plenty of time. Even if you’re not confident, you can always get her a gift card. That way, you’re guaranteed something.”

“Hmm,” you mutter, deep in thought. “Maybe.”

“Look, I’m not saying you should, but I’m just saying: you’re doing a bit too much. If you can’t come up with anything, a gift card is a safe option.”

“I’ll think about it. Don’t wanna be safe though.”

“Sometimes the thought is more than enough.” He finishes his coffee and sets his way back to work. “I’ll keep you updated if he speaks.”

“Thanks.”

But the thought lingers: if the guy who knows a guy can’t help, you wonder, then what are the odds the guy can.

Two weeks go by: the annual office Christmas party arrives. People’s names are called, gifts are exchanged. Amazingly, it seems that everyone shared the same thought as you: no corporate ‘Employee of the Year ’ mugs, gift cards, or teddy bears, but rather, embodying what it means to be Santa. Someone gets the latest Samsung Galaxy. Another gets a Switch 2. The dude lucky enough to be the boss’ secret santa gets a week at the Maldives.

To say the bar has been raised would be an understatement. It makes your gift look like it was bought with a discount from Temu.

And then, your turn comes. Your name is called. You go over to Eunbi, her hands clasped, detached from the party as usual, requiring you to call her name twice.

“This is for you.” A simple yet powerful statement as you hand over your present. She bows gently and graciously accepts.

Quickly unwrapping it in front of everyone, she tears the layers away, and behold: it’s a limited edition record player, old fashioned yet still modern looking. It draws the awe and oohs of the others, but most importantly, Eunbi is shellshocked. She can’t believe what she’s holding right now.

“This—this is—”

“It’s the best I could do,” you reply modestly. Admittedly, your savings took quite a hit trying to buy this particular record player from that one record shop in the city, a guy who refused to budge when it came to offering even a 5% discount. “Heard you liked music a lot, so—”

“How did you know?” Her gaze briefly flicks up to you, but it immediately returns to the record player.

“I didn’t. I asked a guy who knows a guy, and he happened to know a guy, and— it’s a long story.”

She’s so overcome with emotion, it’s beginning to show. Eyes welling up with tears, trembling uncontrollably, she doesn’t care if it’s in front of all these people, or that it goes against everything you knew about her.

“Thank you,” she says, wiping the tears away. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Seeing her this happy makes you happy. “Merry Christmas, Eunbi.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up.”

She takes her leave, leaving the party and the record player behind. As the festivities continue in the background, you follow suit, finding her alone in the bathroom.

“Hey,” you begin.“Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” she replies, wiping the tears away, brushing off the streaked mascara with some tissues.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I'm—just a bit overwhelmed.”

“If you’re sure.”

You’re about to make your leave when she calls you by your name. The first time. And it sounds— sweet.

“So—about that story,” she starts, turning to face you from the mirror. “Can you please tell me? Everything?”

And this is where you come to a crossroads. Again. Because the how is a lot more complicated than what it seems. And to be quite frank, you’re not sure whether Eunbi can handle the truth.

“So,” the man says over his cup of tea. “You’re asking about Eunbi.”

His appearance is a lot more rugged than what’s on his Instagram profile. A bit older than what his age suggested. He looks at you with a rough, cautious scorn. Like he’s not entirely sure why you’re sitting across from him, and what you could possibly want from him. In his eyes, you’re a nobody, a stranger he’s never met in his life—and he’s right.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re not the first to ask.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” he continues, taking a sip. “You’re the fifth. In fact, I’m surprised you managed to find me, considering the lengths the previous people had to go through.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“I bet it wasn’t. Especially if you’re the one who was tasked to get her a gift, I assume.”

“Correct.”

“You’re not her manager, are you?”

“Hell no. Just a co-worker of his.”

“I see.” He leans back in his seat, studying your reaction. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

“I’m not. I mean, I wouldn’t have come to you if I had any idea—”

“Yeah yeah, no need to make yourself look even more of a mess than you already are,” he jests, though you’re 100% sure he’s genuine about it. “But yes. Eunbi. Likes her guitar and piano quite a bit. Surely you already know that.”

“Of course.”

“You should, because otherwise, we wouldn’t be talking.” He says as if it were part of a mandatory learning course, a high barrier to entry. “Anyway, you should actually take her out, you know? Like, as in, walks in the park, that type of thing. That’s how you’ll truly understand her.”

“Easier said than done,” you say, knowing full well your interactions with her is the absolute bare minimum.

“You guys want it quick and easy. No wonder relationships fall apart: there’s no full commitment, no sincerity—”

“I got her as my secret Santa. That’s why I was asking.”

He stops suddenly, eyes wide, shocked and in disbelief. Somehow this idea never crossed his mind, even once. “I- I see.”

“I mean, we never talk at all, so—”

“No, I get it,” he quickly says. “I’m not judging. Just—surprised. That’s all.”

He clearly is, though. From the first glance, you understood that he was scrutinizing you thoroughly—until you pulled the rug from underneath him.

“Right.”

“But yeah, I’m not sure if I can help you. I’m not part of her life anymore, and frankly, I’m not the kind of person who should be telling someone else what to do.”

“Then, do you have any other suggestions? Anyone who could help?”

“I don’t know. Look, if I could, I would, but the only reason why I’m not is because, well, the last time I saw her—” he suddenly swallows his throat. “—we didn’t part ways on the best of terms.”

“I— Alright.”

“Let’s just say I said some things I still regret to this day. If I had the chance to take it all back, to undo it, or to stop myself altogether—”

“In a heartbeat,” you interject, completing his sentence. Somehow, you feel sorry for him now. Life definitely has hit this man severely hard, and maybe Eunbi played a part in it.

"But, that’s not the case. I can’t change the past, and neither can you. All I can say is: you should get to know her better. Maybe not romantically, but at the very least, a friend. You’ll learn a lot, trust me.”

“I’m not here for advice,” you reply, a little frustrated at the implication. “Just want a gift.”

“And you’re not going to get one if you’re not willing to put the effort in. Trust me, I’ve seen this a million times before. I can speak for myself: people come and go, and they all say the same thing: oh, I’m gonna change her life, I’m gonna make her happy. Then, the next day, they’re gone. Poof. Disappeared into the wind. Never to be heard of again.”

“I’m not looking for romance. I’m just—trying to give her something nice. And even if I wanted—”

“Then prove it. Show her.” His gaze sharpens, challenging you to rise to the occasion. “Prove to her and the rest of the world that you’re not another idiot who thinks a nice gift is the cure-all to everything— and me.”

“I’m not.”

“We’ll see.”

Both of you lean back in your chairs, overwhelmed by the thought. Thought of fulfilling expectations. Of missed opportunities. Of what ifs. Of what could. Of what will.

“Just one more thing,” he says, breaking the silence. “Can you promise me? In exchange for sharing this.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Please say hi to Eunbi for me— and tell her I said I’m sorry.”

“Of course.” Eunbi’s look of surprise and emotion has turned to one of—regret. Of him. Of accepting this present, most likely, seeing as its a ghost from the past. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I mean. We only talked just once, and—”

“He told you everything. That’s all I need to know.”

“N-not quite. He just told me to—”

Your remaining words die on your tongue.

“To what?”

You’re hesitating. Not sure if you should say it, or even hint at it.

“What did he say?”

“He just told me to—”

“To what?!”

“To take you out,” you finally admit, unable to meet her gaze. “Spend some time with you. That’s all.”

“Take me out,” she repeats, like she’s testing the words on her tongue.

“Nothing else. I swear.”

“Mmm.”

“Believe me. I just thought you were so reserved and you hardly talk with any of us, so I didn’t have a clue as to what you are, or what you really want.”

“Did he tell you anything else?”

“No.” You’re confident this time. A hundred percent.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He didn’t.”

She still doesn’t fully believe you.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pry or anything. I just wanted to give you the best gift possible, and he was the only person I knew who could help.”

“I know. Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. It’s just—a lot. To process.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell him about this conversation or anything. I only asked him this once because I had no idea about what you liked.”

“And you shouldn’t. I’ve moved on. Why should I bother going back?”

You wholeheartedly agree. That’s all there is to it.

“I’m gonna go,” you tell her, turning away. “Guess I’ll see you—”

“One more thing,” she interrupts.

“What is it?”

“Do you wanna go home with me tonight?”

The question catches you off guard.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and—”

“Go home with you?”

“Yes. Go home with me. You know, to my place. My apartment.”

“A-are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” Eunbi’s tears have long dried up. "You’re not busy tonight, are you?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then, let’s go. There’s no harm in that.”

“Why are you so adamant about this?”

“Because I like you,” she suddenly admits. Her posture softens, from tense to loose, now that the truth is out. “I —I’ve actually been snooping for a while, actually. From afar, but still.”

The revelation steals your breath. Oh how the tables turn. Both of you had your eyes on each other all this time.

“I couldn’t admit it to myself, not to you and definitely not to myself either, until now.”

You’re almost lost for words. “R-really?”

“You seemed so distant, untouchable. Unreachable. Like you wouldn’t have paid any attention to me, and it scared me. Why would a person like you even remotely pay any attention to a boring person like me? It made me second guess everything. So I made myself a secret: the best way to avoid an uncomfortable answer was to simply not ask. But then, this whole secret Santa business happened, and I could’ve had any one of you, but I didn’t expect you.”

Eunbi approaches you. And you’re struck dumb—behold, this side of her: she’s a completely different person in your presence. Her eyes sparkle a little bit, no longer glum. Her voice: soft and sugary. There is no reserve, no more secrecy. She’s opening up.

As she makes her way over, her body nearly collides with you. Her clothes, brushing up against yours. You feel every inch: the tightness of your tie. The buckle on your belt. Every single thing. It feels—warm.

“Is that a no?”

“God, no,” you say, regaining your composure. “In fact, I feel the same way, but I just didn’t know how to approach you either. Or maybe you’re just too pretty to touch.”

Eunbi cracks a smile, a wide smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere. You should have asked.”

“I meant it—everything. Like, how am I supposed to talk to you—”

"I know. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

She sidles in, and the room is all of a sudden, very tiny, and the walls seem to draw closer and closer.

Your gaze falls, almost naturally, onto her lips, those pretty pink, pouty lips, moist from the slight dew on the night, a hint of her chapstick glistening. It would feel perfect, locking lips in a room empty and quiet, perhaps under the light of some mistletoe, the mood lit by some candles.

“Are you sure about this?”

It feels more like a courtesy more than anything: you need permission. Consent. Yes or no. That’s it.

“Kiss me.”

It’s so simple. So gentle. So straightforward.

Eunbi feels your warm breath brush against her lips, prickling her skin and setting her blood aflame, hot, fiery—boiling.

You make their first move, and her mouth parts. Naturally, you pull her in; her chest thuds against yours. Your hands drop lower and lower to her hips, holding her waist. They’re firm; she’s very much into the kiss.

She moans loudly, practically a stifled yell. The moment is nothing short of a true surprise, an unexpected feeling of shock. You have to calm her down; you’re in a bathroom, after all.

“You’ve made quite a bit of ruckus today, haven’t you?”

She smiles, cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“God—today was—a lot.”

You lean in and kiss her neck, her chest heaving, taking it all in, senses spinning wildly, in and out of control. She kisses your cheek back. Her skin burns and reddens with every kiss, marking the space just above her breasts with small beads of her own sweat, and your lips brush against it.

Your fingers reach the clasp, but it feels like it’s too soon. This might not be the best place to be doing this. After all, this is just your first proper interaction with her—

“Wait,” she softly whispers, putting her hand around yours and setting them aside, stopping you from undoing her dress. “Not here, not here. Someone might catch us—”

“Right, right.”

There it is, the worst of your impulses coming to the forefront. A reminder that this is a workplace— your workplace —not some back alley behind a bar. Still, your ardor has skyrocketed, and it’s overpowering every single aspect of your rational decision making.

You’re mentally beating yourself in the head. How reckless. It hasn’t even been longer than five minutes. “Shit. What was I thinking?”

“If you really need me that badly,” she grins sheepishly. “My car is parked close by.”

Your heart skips a few beats. She doesn’t even need to convince you: it’s already a done deal.

“We’re taking mine,” you suggest instead.

As your car leaves the office lot, there’s a level of desperation and urgency that’s keeping you both tense on the drive home. There are no words to express your overwhelming desire, no vocabulary or proper language. While the radio blasts its melodies, nothing can soothe the fire that rages in the background: two flames seeking each other, drawn to the opposite’s heat.

Your free hand is resting on hers, gentle and tender, and you feel it: the way your bodies react to each other. It’s more than warmth or comfort. It’s urgent. It’s desperate. All of this without going beyond first base.

You look over to her in the passenger seat—you just have to. She’s so fucking pretty, it’s unbelievable. Her lips are red, her lipstick smudged and rubbed off from you kissing so deeply and fervently in that company bathroom. Your thoughts turn into thin wisps of steam, smoke, and fumes.

This is your fault, you think to yourself, feeling the growing heat in your crotch. I shouldn’t have made that move.

“Where do you stay?” she whispers softly, her low voice sending chills down your spine.

“Here.”

Your response is natural and timely right as the car arrives in front of your apartment complex. You let the valet do his thing, leaving the rest inside the elevator and the hallway leading to your door.

The moment you both step inside your apartment, all restraint slips away.

Before you even lock the door, she’s onto you again, madly kissing you, all tongue and moans, pushing you against the wood panel of your flat. Your whole mind goes numb: there are no thoughts, just the sweet sensation of Eunbi’s lips. You can hardly breathe; her mere presence and proximity already drives you insane.

She grabs hold of your tie, using it as leverage, pulling you tighter and closer. The tension is indescribable, beyond suffocating. Her other hand roves your chest freely. In turn, yours wander as well, mapping out her well-defined curves, her ass, her waist, everything. She can barely contain herself at this point—let alone you, not even remotely.

But in this heated rush, you forget about one small problem.

Your chest tightens; a knot tightens, a groan escapes, a wheeze—like the air has just been knocked out of you. Like someone punched you right in the gut.

“Let me breathe a little,” you force out, taking her wrist. A

She instantly loosens her grip. Laughing, she replies, “Sorry. Got carried away a little.”

“A little?”

She playfully raises an eyebrow, glancing ever so slightly below, the blush on her cheeks turning ever brighter. Realizing the predicament below, her eyes widen, a surprised look spreads across her face. “Oh—”

“It’s like I have an iron fist clenched around my throat and you can’t or don’t even want to remove it—”

“Not like you were enjoying it,” Eunbi fires back, sticking her tongue at you. Caught red-handed.

You find yourself doing the same in response. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Kissing again, you and Eunbi shed layers of clothing from each other in rapid succession: shirt, tie, coat, pants, shoes, buttons. Reduced to just your boxers and her in bra and panties, you both take it to the bedroom to finish the job, and those come off in the transition between rooms.

At this point, Eunbi is claiming every part of you: from your chin, your neck, your stomach, reaching down to your cock, having been freed from its obstructive fabric. Chest, arms, shoulders, and legs too. It’s red everywhere, marked with her teeth and lipstick. You feel the way her lips dance across your skin: sensually, and teasingly slow.

Somehow, that’s even worse: being at her mercy.

She lightly brushes and runs her fingers along your inner thigh. It sends shivers throughout your frame: tingling goosebumps pop up. Eunbi makes her way to your shaft, ever so lightly touching the adductor muscles, but deliberately avoids your cock, driving you crazy.

“Ah—fuck—”

“Feeling a little blue balls over here, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“Relax a little.” Eunbi lightly kisses your balls, fondling them in her hand. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Do you have any idea just how good you feel on my lips? Or how hot and good your precum is on my tongue and against the roof of my mouth?” she says with a coy, playful grin.

Her thumb runs along the tip. A little jolt of electricity runs through your frame.

Eunbi cups the underside of your balls with both hands, while her mouth presses soft, wet, hot, smooching noises against your cock: her lips leave her lipstick mark, tinging her skin pink.

“Ahh—shit, shit—”

Just her lips. Nothing more. It’s too much. Already too much.

Her mouth lowers further still, teasing the rest of your length.

You’re losing your senses. But Eunbi takes no pity on you, dragging her hot, wet, pink tongue over your length. You shudder at the touch, her fingertips claiming your body.

She can feel your entire body tremble; her actions affect you in that way. It’s satisfying to see someone so put-together come unraveled. And not just anyone, but your coworker, her secret admirer.

“Need you to lay it on me,” she mutters against your cock, her hot breath sending electricity coursing through your veins. “All over my face.”

Like instinct, you seize Eunbi by the hair and push her against your cock, her mouth taking the full brunt of your shaft. With a single shove, your shaft enters her mouth, sliding past her lips. Her hands grip your thighs, steadying herself, and keeping you grounded at the same time.

“Then fucking take it,” you grit out, hammering into her mouth without remorse, without hesitation.

Unrelenting, savage thrusts. In and out, in and out. Faster. Deeper. Hitting the back of her throat, causing her to choke and sputter, but you don’t give a shit, taking what you need.

“Mmmm—” Eunbi can barely get her whimpers past your cock stuffing her mouth.

Your gaze finds hers in the dark. The look in her eyes: pleading and needy, yes, but they’re telling you one thing: this is her. Truly her. Behind the quiet, reserved personality in the workplace. Now, in the sanctity of your room, there are no secrets, no privacy. It’s just you two—this raw, unfiltered version of yourselves.

Your gazes don’t leave the other; your thrusts grow faster, harsher. Her expression flickers; eyes slam shut, cheeks hollowed out, forcing stifled hums that reverberate on your skin. Your balls tighten to the point of unbearable. Close. So fucking close. But not yet. Your grip on her locks tightens. She takes cock as effortlessly as she takes to wearing red lipstick and suits. It feels so fucking good. Beyond good.

“Who owns you?” you groan out, still relentlessly thrusting into her mouth.

She replies in gags and stifled hums, too engrossed by your shaft filling her throat.

“Answer me.”

The response is a sudden sputtering gurgle.

“Don’t care, just want to fuck you senselessly.”

Eunbi’s determined now, grasping and sucking, gagging and choking down on you until she can’t take any more, tears streaking her face and leaving small trails. Your shaft bulges, swelling, pulsing. Then, she abruptly removes your cock.

“Use my throat like you mean it,” she says, looking up at you expectantly, wiping her swollen, sloppy, drool-laden lips with the back of her wrist. The gesture’s more coy than anything; her gaze is all over your cock. “Then fill my body up.”

“Where do you want it?”

Her mouth is already wide open and waiting. She cups her breasts with her palms, giving her mounds a soft squeeze.

Without a second thought, your hold on her hair turns more firm, rough, insistent. Your hand moves on her, pushing her forward onto your cock.

At last. It’s bliss. Nirvana.

You’re overcome by pure euphoric pleasure. Her silky smooth, velvety soft tongue running along the entire length of your shaft, pressing the head against the roof of her mouth, swirling all around, toying with your tip, dribbling precum—nothing compares.

And then, you finally come unglued: directing your cock at her eager, sultry expression, mouth wide open, tongue out, you just— unload. Blasting Eunbi with thick streams of cum on her lips, breasts, neck. It’s obscene, lewd, pornographic—you’re blowing a giant, fucking load all over her features. For added effect, she lets your streaks of white trickle down her body, presenting herself as a canvas for your handiwork.

In the hazy aftermath, her eyes seem glazed over, unfocused and yet—staring right at you.

With each second, the orgasm abates, until—

“God,” she cries out, squeezing her eyes, wincing from the sting of a streak of cum shooting over her face. She’s running fingers all over herself, tasting you in her mouth and licking her lips clean of your cum. “That was— so much—”

You collapse against the edge of the bed. Exhaustion kicks in. Your legs feel heavy and weak. It’s a satisfying, draining feeling.

Eunbi rests atop you, breasts in close proximity with your withering cock.

"Tired already?”

You smile and sigh deeply. There is no energy. Not one bit. This is how good she’s fucked you up. It takes a moment for the world to steady and still, spinning wildly before refocusing.

“Shower?” she quietly suggests. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin your sheets on the first—date.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, too tired for words. But it’s too late: the edges are stained with you.

Eunbi lightly swats your chest. You let your arms relax around her waist, lazily holding her as she leans into your frame.

If this is what love is like, then you’d very much want this to go on forever.

She manages to get you in the shower somehow. Mostly because of sweet talk. About exercising holiday grace.

Running water does little to ease the ache in your muscles, even when you’re covered in a warm, cozy embrace of Eunbi’s heat and soap suds.

You try, really, but it’s difficult when Eunbi is always so— willing. So agreeable. Eager.

Her touch is light, lax, comforting. One hand comes around your body and grabs your half-erect cock. Soft and delicate fingers stroke the length. Gingerly, easily—sensually. It’s her. Everywhere. All around.

Your hand glides between her slick, warm, wet thighs, your palms seeking hers, gripping her hand and turning it so your fingers intertwine. Tilting your head to capture her lips, you’re greeted by her smile, a small twitch upward. It’s a tender moment: no words necessary to understand each other’s thoughts, but your fingers still slowly slide into her entrance, and her hand pumps your shaft a little tighter and a little faster. She nibbles the soft skin of your neck, lightly grazing her teeth, nipping and biting at the shell.

“No fair. Let me help you with that.”

She leads her thumb against your slit, her other hand grasping firmly around the shaft and working you up.
Guiding her strokes, Eunbi feathers kisses on your cheek and down your jaw.

Her lithe hands are magic, making your blood rise in anticipation.

“Didn’t know you could get it back up so fast,” she mumbles against your collar. “Pretty impressive.”

“Let’s just say I’ve found the perfect woman,” you grin. She scoffs, shaking her head at your comical statement, but the slight tint on her cheeks betrays her.

Eunbi grabs your arm and pins you against the wet walls of the shower. You immediately respond and reverse position, holding her against the wall before diving back in for another passionate kiss, going down to leave marks on her collarbones and neck, establishing complete control.

And you go for it: lifting one of her legs up and posturing it beside yours, you slide inside her cunt and embrace her suffocating, overwhelming heat. Her moans fill the shower, reverberating against the tiled walls. You can hear every small gasp, every huff, the slight shudder in her breath as her mouth widens—but are caught off-guard when she stifles it, biting back a groan.

“Don’t. No one will hear. Only us,” you reassure her, leaving a tender peck on her cheek. Pulling out, you pump back in, burying yourself to the hilt. Another moan escapes Eunbi’s lips, now loose, completely charged with pleasure.

“You’re beautiful when you moan, Eunbi.” You rock into her slowly, brushing loose strands off her face, lightly touching and caressing her soft skin. “So fucking beautiful.”

There’s no letting go of her, especially when her nails latch onto your back, dragging all over the skin and leaving marks on your muscles.

“Why are you so tight?” you ask, leaning your cheek against hers. “God—you’re so fucking—unbearable—”

She chuckles and sighs between moans, mustering the little strength to grin. “You’ll be fine—keep fucking me—”

The pain and pleasure shoots in intense shocks, but not so much that it distracts you. No, the ecstasy of her warmth has far outweighed anything else: her breaths come in hot and fast, body dripping sweat, and nails raking the skin. It’s too fucking much.

Thrusting into Eunbi’s tightness, she cries out, squirms against you, taking everything you offer her, giving just as much in kind back.

“G-God—I—” Eunbi sighs, hips bucking and grinding against your cock, can’t stop, won’t ever stop, locking her raised leg firmer against yours. “Ah—”

Grunting on a particularly deep stroke, you drive deeper into her slick depths with every thrust. Harder and harder.

Her breasts are supple and perfect, large but soft, not to mention her lovely perky ass and sexy thighs. And her sweet, sharp moans, those delectable pants, the softness of her flesh and lips—it’s the absolute perfect, most glorious, exquisite torture imaginable.

So you let your one hand squeeze on her breast while holding her figure with the other. Eunbi reacts, shuddering a little, whimpering your name over and over (it’s so heavenly) —pushing the both of you to the brink, past your breaking points, crossing boundaries—

But still not enough. Never enough.

"Please, please, fuck,” you hear her moan out. Her whole frame shudders with every thrust, every press, every squeeze. “Keep going—”

And you happily oblige. Letting it fall into a seamless rhythm, using the sound of your skin slapping hers as the framework for how you fuck her. Not too slow, but not fast either, just enough to hit all the right spots and keep the sensation going.

And when she calls out your name—in that breathy voice—your ears loving each syllable she utters. It’s addicting—listening to Eunbi unravel right into you, because of you.

“Ah,” she cries out, holding on for dear life. “Yes—right there—that’s it—”

With another firm thrust, you hammer in deeper, groaning as you fuck her, her walls flexing against your cock, filling her to the womb. Eunbi clenches around you, lost in her own pleasure. With every stroke, she makes a noise, each pitch climbing higher and higher. A pleasure that rises until finally it breaks.

She arches her back as she shudders and rolls her eyes in pleasure. For a moment, it looks like she’s falling apart, breaking at the seams. And it drives you over the edge. She can feel the pressure building: you’re closer, even more than you realize.

“Almost there,” she beckons. She places her palm flat against your chest. It’s tender, affectionate—and when she lifts her head to meet yours, it’s also flattering, alluring. “Cum for me—baby, please—fucking—need it—”

Her encouragement brings you over the edge. Your shoulders tense as she continuously grinds against your cock, wraps an arm around your neck. And when you feel yourself about to let go, when you’re about to fire another round of your load, she holds onto you, drawing you closer to her warmth—her welcoming, overflowing, overpowering embrace.

“Fuck—I’m cumming—”

Then she whispers: “That’s it. Cum for me—don’t waste a single drop—”

It’s the perfect collision: you and Eunbi intertwining as one. Her soft tone. Your name on her lips. The hot, welcoming sensation of her cunt. And finally, the orgasm. A great big explosive finish. Bodies aching all over. Legs giving way. Muscles spasm uncontrollably. Eyes clench shut. Fists balling into a chokehold. The intensity overtakes every other feeling.

It’s Eunbi who comes undone first: her orgasm milks the last of your resolve—and your cum, her slick filling up your cock, a torrential downpour of nectar that’s all you needed to fly over the edge. A high, elated feeling of freefall, your stomach left behind at the height of your pleasure.

Hot, sticky strings of cum fill her, dribbling all the way down to the shower floor. Burying yourself deep in the womb, wasting minimal drops into her, just as she wanted. Your bodies remain like this, something you wish would last till eternity, because this warmth is something you can never come down from without regret.

Moments drag on for hours—at least that’s what it feels like inside her. You let yourself become immersed in her tightness, unable to move a muscle: only Eunbi’s even breaths and your shallow ones fill the space. Her hand wraps around your head, bringing you down. She plants a kiss against your forehead, whispering soft words of affection.

She keeps you wrapped, close and safe and intimate.

This is love, you think. Being like this.

“Still inside me, are you?” she says, breaking the calming quiet.

You grin. “Complaints?”

“Never said I hated it. Love it, actually.”

“Didn’t mind the mess afterward either.”

Eunbi shrugs casually, though the smile on her face indicates she loves it more than she thought. “One more go wouldn’t hurt. I can feel you, all snug and snuggled inside me, fitting my pussy like the shape of a puzzle piece. And it’s so, so perfect.”