Summer’s Not Over

The photography studio in Seongsu-dong was alive with quiet energy on a bright May morning in 2026. Large windows let in natural light, while professional lighting rigs, white seamless backdrops, and racks of delicate garments filled the spacious room. This was the main concept shoot for Tiffany Young’s highly anticipated pre-release single “Summer’s Not Over” — her first major solo activity under Pacific Music Group Korea.

Kang Minjun, 33, stood near the center of the studio, adjusting the angle of a large softbox. Dressed in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, slim black trousers, and clean leather shoes, he looked every bit the seasoned professional. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his sharp features gave him that calm, artistic charisma that models and idols often found both reassuring and slightly intimidating.

He had been chosen as the main photographer for this project after his team submitted a strong concept pitch. The creative director wanted someone who could capture both ethereal beauty and emotional depth — exactly Minjun’s specialty.

As he checked the lighting ratios on his camera monitor, the door to the dressing area opened.

Tiffany Young stepped out.

She looked breathtaking.

Her long black hair flowed straight down her back with soft waves at the ends. She wore a stunning semi-sheer white lace and tulle dress with delicate ruffles and pearl accents — one of the key looks for the “Summer’s Not Over” mermaid-siren concept. The fabric caught the light beautifully, creating an ethereal glow around her. Her makeup was soft yet striking: dewy skin, glossy lips, and those signature sharp, expressive eyes.

Minjun’s breath caught for a split second before he regained his composure.

Professional, he reminded himself. She’s an artist. You’re here to work.

Tiffany’s eyes scanned the studio and landed on him. A small, warm smile spread across her face — that famous eye-smile appearing naturally.

“Minjun-ssi?” she asked, her voice bright and friendly with a slight California accent underneath her perfect Korean. She walked toward him confidently, heels clicking softly on the floor. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly. I saw your portfolio — your work with the lighting and mood is really impressive.”

Minjun returned the smile politely, extending his hand. “Tiffany-ssi, it’s an honor. I’ve been following your solo work for a while. Congratulations on the new single.”

She shook his hand firmly but warmly, her touch lingering just a moment. “Thank you. I’m really excited about this concept. The team told me you pitched some great ideas for the mermaid-siren theme. I loved the mood boards you sent.”

Her friendliness was genuine and disarming. Minjun felt himself relaxing slightly.

“I’m glad you liked them,” he replied, his tone professional but warm. “The concept has a lot of potential — dreamy, emotional, a little mysterious. I want to capture that feeling of ‘endless summer’ mixed with something deeper. If you have any specific ideas or preferences for today’s shoot, I’m all ears.”

Tiffany’s eyes lit up. She appreciated when photographers treated her as a collaborator rather than just a model.

“I like that,” she said, nodding. “I want it to feel like a fairy tale that’s a little bit sad but still hopeful. Comforting, but with longing underneath. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Minjun answered, turning to show her the monitor. “Look at this test shot from the rehearsal model. If we adjust the key light here and add a subtle rim light from the back, it gives that glowing, almost underwater feeling you mentioned in the brief.”

They stood side by side as Minjun explained the lighting plan, camera angles, and mood references. Tiffany listened attentively, asking intelligent questions and offering her own input. She was professional, focused, and collaborative — exactly the kind of artist Minjun enjoyed working with.

As they talked, the ice broke naturally. Tiffany’s bright personality shone through — she laughed easily at one of his dry jokes about difficult past shoots and shared a quick story about how she nearly fell into a pond during a previous outdoor concept shoot.

“You’re easy to work with,” Minjun said with a small smile as they moved to the first set. “Some artists come in with very fixed ideas and don’t want to adjust. You seem open.”

Tiffany shrugged lightly, smiling. “I trust good photographers. And I’ve heard you’re one of the best. Plus… I like the way you see things.”

There was no flirtation in her tone — just sincere appreciation. But the way she looked at him for a brief second carried a subtle warmth that made the air between them feel a little heavier.

The actual shoot began.

Minjun directed with calm authority, his voice clear and encouraging.

“Chin slightly down… eyes toward the light… perfect. Hold that emotion — like you’re longing for something you can’t quite reach. Yes, that’s beautiful.”

Tiffany was an excellent model. She adapted quickly to every direction, changing expressions and poses fluidly. When Minjun asked for a more vulnerable look, she delivered it effortlessly. When he wanted mysterious and seductive, she gave him a smoldering gaze that made the camera love her.

During a short break while the stylists fixed her hair, Tiffany walked over to the monitor where Minjun was reviewing shots.

“These are really good,” she said softly, standing close enough that he could smell her light perfume. “You make me look… dreamy.”

“You make it easy,” Minjun replied honestly. “You have this natural ability to convey emotion through your eyes. It’s rare.”

Tiffany turned to him with a gentle smile. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

Their conversation stayed light and professional throughout the day — talking about lighting preferences, favorite past shoots, and small details about the concept. Tiffany was friendly and engaging, and Minjun responded in kind, keeping a respectful but warm distance.

By the end of the long shooting day, as the sun began to set outside the studio windows, they had built a comfortable working rapport.

The studio had grown quiet. Most of the staff had already packed up and left by 8:30 PM, leaving only the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint echo of footsteps on the polished floor. The main lights were dimmed, with only a few warm spotlights still on, casting long, intimate shadows across the white backdrops and equipment.

Tiffany emerged from the dressing room in a more casual outfit — an oversized cream knit sweater that slipped off one shoulder, paired with loose black trousers and simple sneakers. Her long hair was now tied in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face. Even without the elaborate styling, she looked effortlessly radiant.

Minjun was still at the monitor station, reviewing the final batch of raw files. He looked up as she approached, offering a tired but genuine smile.

“Heading out already?” he asked, his tone lighter now that the official workday had ended.

Tiffany stopped a few steps away, tilting her head with that signature eye-smile. “I was thinking about it… but I’m not in a rush. The photos looked really good on the monitor earlier. Do you mind if I take a quick look at the final selections before you send them off?”

Minjun nodded without hesitation. “Of course. Come sit.”

He pulled up an extra chair beside his own. As Tiffany sat down, the faint scent of her perfume — soft vanilla and fresh citrus — drifted toward him. Their shoulders were close enough that he could feel the warmth from her body.

For the next twenty minutes, they went through the photos together. The professional barrier that had been strictly maintained all day slowly began to dissolve in the empty studio. Minjun’s tone became more relaxed and engaging, his natural talkative personality emerging now that the pressure of the shoot was gone.

“You see this one?” he said, zooming in on a shot of her lying gracefully on the black grand piano prop. “The way the light hits the tulle here — it creates this almost underwater glow. It matches the ‘mermaid lost on land’ feeling you mentioned in the concept meeting.”

Tiffany leaned in closer, her arm brushing against his. “I love that one. You really understood what I wanted. Most photographers just focus on making me look pretty. You make me feel… something.”

Minjun turned his head slightly, their faces closer than they had been all day. He smiled, a charming, slightly playful curve of his lips.

“That’s the highest compliment I can get. I don’t just shoot faces — I try to shoot the feeling behind them. You made it easy today. You have this natural ability to switch emotions in a single frame. It’s rare.”

Tiffany laughed softly, the sound warm and melodic. “You’re very good at compliments, Minjun-ssi. Dangerous, even.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms. The professional “ssi” still lingered between them, but the atmosphere had shifted. The studio felt smaller, more intimate.

“Guilty,” he admitted, his voice dropping into a more casual, engaging tone. “But I mean it. Working with you today was genuinely enjoyable. Not every artist is as collaborative or expressive. You made my job interesting.”

Tiffany rested her chin on her hand, studying him with open curiosity. “You’re quite different when the staff isn’t around. More… talkative. I like it.”

Minjun met her gaze steadily, his ENTP charm fully activated now that the workday was over. “What can I say? I spend most shoots directing and staying professional. But when the lights go down… I enjoy actually talking to the person I’ve been photographing for ten hours.”

He paused, then added with a small, teasing smile, “Especially when that person is as interesting as you.”

Tiffany’s eyes sparkled. She didn’t shy away from the subtle flirtation. Instead, she leaned in a little closer.

“Interesting how?” she asked, voice soft but playful.

Minjun didn’t back down. He turned his chair slightly toward her, fully engaged now.

“You have layers. On camera, you can be ethereal and untouchable. But the way you talk about the concept — there’s real emotion behind it. You’re not just performing. You’re feeling it. That makes the photos better… and the conversation better.”

Tiffany bit her lower lip lightly, clearly enjoying the flow of their conversation. The tension that had been carefully contained during the shoot was now simmering freely in the empty studio.

“You’re smooth,” she said with a quiet laugh. “I can see why you’re popular with models.”

Minjun raised an eyebrow, his tone light but honest. “I’m just being real with you. No need for the professional filter anymore. We’re off the clock.”

The air between them grew thicker. Tiffany shifted in her seat, her sweater slipping further off her shoulder, revealing smooth skin. Minjun’s eyes flicked down for a fraction of a second before returning to her face.

“Off the clock…” she repeated softly, almost testing the words. “That changes things, doesn’t it?”

Minjun held her gaze, his voice low and engaging. “It can… if we want it to.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The studio was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment. The memory of their wild night weeks ago hung unspoken in the space between them — intense, secret, and undeniably mutual.

Tiffany finally broke the silence with a small, almost shy smile.

“I should probably head home soon,” she said, though she made no move to stand. “But… thank you for today. Really. And for the conversation. It’s been a while since I talked this comfortably with someone after a long shoot.”

Minjun nodded, his expression warm but restrained. “Anytime. If you ever want to review more photos… or just talk… you have my number.”

Tiffany stood up slowly. As she passed him, her hand lightly brushed his shoulder — a casual touch that felt anything but casual.

The second major concept shoot for “Summer’s Not Over” took place three days later on a scenic cliffside location along the eastern coast. The team had chosen a dramatic spot with jagged black rocks, pine trees, and a misty ocean view that perfectly matched the ethereal mermaid-siren concept.

Minjun arrived early, as usual, directing his assistant on lighting setups and scouting the best natural light angles. The teal gradient dress had arrived the night before, and he already knew it would look stunning against the sea and forest backdrop.

When Tiffany stepped out of the van, the entire crew paused for a moment.

She wore the teal halter dress — a sheer, shimmering fabric that clung to her body like liquid ocean waves, shifting between deep turquoise and seafoam green depending on the light. The high neckline and flowing silhouette gave her an elegant, almost mythical presence. Her long black hair was styled straight and sleek, cascading down her back. Minimal makeup enhanced her natural glow, with a touch of shimmer on her collarbones and shoulders.

She looked like a siren who had just emerged from the sea.

Tiffany spotted Minjun immediately and waved with a bright, friendly smile.

“Minjun-ssi! Good morning. The location is even more beautiful than the photos you sent. You have great taste in spots.”

Minjun returned the smile, more relaxed than during the first indoor shoot. “Good morning, Tiffany-ssi. You look perfect for the concept. The dress and the background are going to work incredibly well together.”

The morning started professionally. Minjun directed with calm authority, moving around her with his camera as she posed on the rocky outcrop overlooking the sea.

“Turn your body slightly to the right… chin up… eyes toward the horizon, like you’re waiting for something. Yes, that’s it. Hold that longing expression.”

Tiffany followed every direction beautifully, but she was noticeably warmer and more playful than during the previous shoot. Between takes, she would chat casually with him.

During one break, while the stylists fixed her hair, she walked over to where Minjun was reviewing shots on his monitor.

“Can I see?” she asked, leaning in close enough that her shoulder brushed his.

Minjun turned the screen toward her. “This one is my favorite so far. The wind caught your hair at the perfect moment.”

Tiffany smiled, genuinely pleased. “You make me look like I belong here. Like I’m part of the sea.” She glanced at him sideways, her tone light-hearted. “You’re dangerous with that camera, you know. Making me feel things I shouldn’t during work.”

Minjun chuckled, dropping the strict professional tone now that the crew was scattered. “I could say the same about you. That dress should come with a warning label.”

Tiffany laughed — bright and melodic. The friendly banter flowed easily between them as the day continued. She teased him about his “serious photographer face,” and he fired back with dry humor about how some artists made his job difficult while she made it enjoyable.

The atmosphere on set became noticeably lighter. Tiffany’s friendly and warm personality helped everyone relax, including Minjun. He found himself smiling more, engaging in casual conversation between setups, and even joking with the crew.

During a longer break, Tiffany stepped away to make a call. She walked a short distance from the main set, but Minjun could still hear her soft voice.

“Yeobo… yeah, the shoot is going well. The dress is beautiful. I miss you too… I’ll be home late tonight, but I’ll try not to wake you. Eat properly, okay? Love you.”

She ended the call with a gentle smile, then returned to the set as if nothing had happened. Minjun noticed but said nothing. The reminder that she was a married woman added a complicated layer to the growing tension between them.

As the afternoon progressed, their interactions became even closer. During one particularly windy shot, Minjun stepped in to adjust a strand of hair that had blown across her face. His fingers brushed her cheek lightly. Tiffany didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked up at him with soft eyes.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of something warmer.

“No problem,” Minjun replied, his voice lower than usual. For a moment, the professional gap blurred completely. They stood close, the ocean wind whipping around them, eyes locked longer than necessary.

The final shots of the day were some of the best. Tiffany leaned against a large rock with the sea behind her, one hand resting on the stone, the other gently touching her long hair. The teal dress shimmered in the golden hour light. Minjun captured the moment perfectly.

“Last shot,” he announced. “Give me that feeling of ‘Summer’s Not Over’ — like you never want this moment to end.”

Tiffany delivered. Her expression was longing, serene, and quietly powerful. When Minjun called “Cut,” the entire crew applauded.

As everyone began packing up, Tiffany gathered the crew together. She stood in front of them with a bright, grateful smile.

“Everyone, thank you so much for today. The weather was tricky, the location was challenging, but you all worked really hard and kept the mood light. I really appreciate it.” She paused, then added warmly, “Since we finished earlier than expected and you made the session so comfortable, I’d like to treat everyone to dinner and drinks tonight. My treat. There’s a nice restaurant nearby with a private room. What do you say?”

The crew cheered enthusiastically. Tiffany laughed, clearly happy to reward them.

Minjun watched her from the side, a small smile on his lips. The friendly, generous side of her made the professional boundaries feel even more fragile.

As the crew started loading equipment into vans, Tiffany walked over to Minjun.

“You’re coming too, right?” she asked softly, her eyes meeting his with quiet invitation. “It wouldn’t be the same without the main photographer.”

Minjun held her gaze for a moment, feeling the pull between them stronger than ever.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

The sun was setting over the ocean as they wrapped up the day. The line between work and something more continued to blur — slowly, dangerously, and inevitably.

The private hanok restaurant’s courtyard glowed under strings of warm lanterns. The crew of nearly twenty people filled the long wooden tables with laughter, clinking glasses, and the savory aroma of grilled hanwoo beef, fresh sashimi, and endless bottles of soju and wine. Tiffany had spared no expense — it was her way of saying thank you after a long, successful outdoor shoot.

She sat near the head of the main table, looking effortlessly elegant in a soft white blouse and high-waisted navy skirt, her long hair loose and slightly tousled from the sea breeze earlier. Her eye-smile appeared often as she poured drinks for the stylists and assistants, playing the perfect warm host.

Minjun sat a few seats away, but as the night progressed and people moved around freely, the seating became more fluid. Eventually, he ended up directly beside her, shielded slightly by a low wooden divider and tall potted plants that gave them a pocket of semi-privacy from the rest of the crew.

The alcohol had loosened everyone up. Laughter rang out loudly from the other end of the table. Tiffany turned to Minjun with a soft, genuine smile, her cheeks lightly flushed from the wine.

“You were incredible today,” she said quietly, voice warm and melodic. “The way you handled the changing light on the cliff… I’ve never felt so understood during a shoot.”

Minjun leaned back slightly, his confident, charismatic side fully emerging now that the workday was officially over. He smiled, that smooth, observant gaze fixed on her.

“I had excellent material to work with,” he replied, voice low enough for only her to hear. “You weren’t just posing — you were feeling it. That longing look when the wind caught your hair? I almost forgot I was supposed to be taking photos.”

Tiffany laughed softly, the sound light and charming. She took a sip of her wine, then glanced sideways at him.

“You’re very good at compliments, Minjun-ssi. Almost too good.”

He chuckled, turning his body slightly toward her. “I’m just being honest. Most artists come with walls up. You don’t. You let the emotion show. It makes my job dangerous… because I end up staring longer than I should.”

Their knees brushed under the table. Neither pulled away.

Tiffany’s breath caught for a split second. She kept her expression composed, smiling at a stylist who waved at her from across the table, but under the table, her hand lightly brushed against Minjun’s thigh — a seemingly accidental touch that lingered just long enough to be deliberate.

Minjun’s eyes darkened. He was observant enough to catch every micro-expression — the way her fingers trembled slightly, the subtle flush on her neck, the way she bit the inside of her lip.

He leaned in a little closer under the guise of reaching for a side dish, his fingers grazing the back of her hand beneath the table.

“You know,” he murmured, voice smooth and engaging, “I’ve photographed a lot of people. But very few make me forget I’m working. You have this effect… like the sea in today’s concept. Beautiful on the surface, but there’s a lot more depth underneath.”

Tiffany’s hand turned slightly, her fingers brushing his in return — hidden from everyone by the tablecloth and the divider. The touch was light, almost innocent, but carried heavy intent.

“You’re dangerous when you talk like that,” she whispered, her voice soft and melodic. “I’m supposed to be responsible… married… professional.”

Minjun’s thumb traced a slow circle on the back of her hand, hidden from view. His tone remained light and witty, but his words carried weight.

“Responsible during the day,” he said quietly, eyes locked on hers. “But right now? We’re just two people who worked hard and happen to enjoy each other’s company. No cameras. No crew watching our every move.”

Tiffany’s breath hitched. She didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, her fingers curled lightly around his for a moment — a secret squeeze that sent heat rushing through both of them.

“You make it very hard to remember I have a husband waiting at home,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper, a mix of guilt and thrill in her tone.

Minjun’s smile was confident but not arrogant. He squeezed her hand back gently, his thumb stroking her skin in slow, soothing circles.

“I’m not trying to make you forget anything,” he said, voice low and persuasive. “I’m just saying… sometimes the most beautiful moments happen when we allow ourselves to feel them. Even if only for one night.”

The crew’s loud laughter from the other side of the divider covered their intimate conversation. Tiffany’s cheeks were flushed, her heart beating faster. She was a married woman, but Minjun’s calm confidence, sharp wit, and observant nature were slowly shaking the walls she had built.

Under the table, their hands remained linked for a long moment — fingers intertwined in secret while they both smiled and chatted casually with the crew whenever someone looked their way.

As the party continued, the tension only grew. Minjun would lean in to say something witty in her ear, his breath brushing her skin. Tiffany would respond with soft laughter, her hand occasionally finding his under the table again — a brush of fingers, a light squeeze, a hidden caress on his thigh.

The after-party was winding down. The crew members were saying their goodbyes one by one, thanking Tiffany profusely for the generous dinner and drinks. Hugs and laughter filled the courtyard as people headed toward the parking area. The lanterns were still glowing softly, but the energy had shifted from lively celebration to tired contentment.

Tiffany stood near the entrance, smiling warmly as she bowed and waved to the last few staff members. When the final car pulled away, only Minjun remained standing a few steps behind her.

She turned to him, the night breeze gently lifting her hair. Her cheeks were lightly flushed from the wine, and her eyes held a mix of warmth and something deeper.

“Everyone’s gone,” she said softly, her melodic voice carrying a quiet intimacy now that they were alone. “Thank you for staying until the end.”

Minjun slipped his hands into his pockets, his confident posture relaxed but attentive. “I wouldn’t miss it. You were a wonderful host tonight.”

Tiffany took a small step closer, looking up at him. For a moment, she hesitated, then spoke with gentle honesty.

“My husband has an overnight filming schedule tonight… he won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon.” She paused, biting her lower lip lightly before continuing, “Would you like to come to my place? Just for a drink. I don’t want the night to end yet.”

Minjun’s gaze darkened with understanding. He studied her face for a second — the subtle nervousness mixed with clear desire — then gave her a slow, charming smile.

“I’d like that very much.”

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The drive back to Tiffany’s private apartment was quiet, charged with anticipation. The city lights blurred past the windows as Minjun followed her car. When they arrived, she led him inside without turning on the main lights — only the soft glow of the living room lamps and the distant city sparkle through the large windows.

Tiffany’s private apartment was quiet and elegant, the same one she used when she needed space for work. Soft city lights filtered through the large windows as she led Minjun inside. The door clicked shut behind them, and the outside world disappeared.

She kicked off her shoes and turned to face him, suddenly looking a little vulnerable despite her usual confidence.

“I know this is… complicated,” she murmured. “But I can’t stop thinking about you since that night. And today… the way you looked at me during the shoot…”

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, voice trembling with both guilt and desire. “I’m married… but I can’t stop wanting you.”

Minjun stepped closer, closing the distance between them. His hand gently cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her skin with surprising tenderness.

“Then don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

The tension that had been building all day — all week — finally snapped.

He kissed her deeply, backing her against the wall. Tiffany moaned softly into his mouth, her hands fisting his shirt as she pulled him closer. The kiss quickly grew heated — tongues sliding, teeth grazing, breaths mingling. Minjun’s hands roamed down her body, squeezing her waist, then sliding lower to grip her ass, lifting her slightly so she could feel how hard he already was.

“Bedroom,” she gasped against his lips.

He backed her toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss, hands roaming her body with skilled confidence. When they reached the edge of her large, luxurious bed, took his time undressing her, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. When she was completely naked beneath him, he sat back on his heels and drank in the sight of her.

“Fuck, Tiffany… you’re stunning,” he breathed, eyes dark with hunger. “Look at you. So beautiful and wet for me already.”

Tiffany shivered under his gaze. Praise was one of her weaknesses — she loved feeling desired, adored, and seen. Her cheeks flushed as she reached for him.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Touch me,” she whispered.

Tiffany’s breath was already shaky. “I want you… to take your time with me. Like you did in the photos today — make me feel everything.”

Minjun’s smile was confident and wicked. “As you wish.”

Minjun obliged. He kissed down her neck, sucking lightly on her pulse point before moving to her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue while his hand massaged the other. Tiffany arched her back, moaning beautifully.

“Ahh… yes… just like that…”

His hand slid between her thighs, fingers gliding through her slick folds. He circled her clit with slow, expert strokes, then pushed two fingers inside her, curling them perfectly against her front wall. Tiffany’s hips bucked, her melodic voice filling the room.

“Minjun… your fingers feel so good… deeper…”

He added a third finger, stretching her while his thumb worked her clit. He watched her face the entire time, observing every reaction, every gasp and whimper. When she was trembling on the edge, he pulled back, denying her release.

“You’re so sensitive here,” he murmured against her skin, voice smooth and observant. “I love how you react to every touch.”

He laid her down on the bed and settled between her legs and devoured her. His tongue was skilled and relentless — long, slow licks mixed with focused sucking on her clit. Tiffany’s hands gripped his hair, her thighs shaking around his head as she moaned loudly.

His tongue was skilled and patient. He licked her slowly, teasingly, building her pleasure with precise flicks and long strokes. When he slid two fingers inside her and curled them perfectly while sucking on her clit, Tiffany’s back arched off the bed.

“Oh god… your mouth… I’m going to cum—”

Minjun sucked harder, fingers pumping inside her. Tiffany came with a sharp, melodic cry, her body convulsing as she squirted lightly against his tongue. He licked her through it, savoring every drop until she was whimpering and oversensitive.

“Ahh… Minjun… your mouth is so good…” she moaned, her melodic voice filling the room.

He brought her to the edge twice, edging her beautifully before finally letting her cum. Tiffany cried out sharply as her orgasm hit, thighs trembling around his head as she soaked his tongue.

Minjun moved up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on his lips. He positioned himself between her legs and entered her slowly, savoring the tight heat.

“Ahhhhh…” Tiffany moaned loudly, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You feel perfect… fill me up…”

Minjun groaned at the tight heat surrounding him. He started with deep, rolling thrusts, grinding against her clit with every stroke. He kept eye contact the entire time, watching her expressions, learning what made her moan louder.

“You feel incredible,” he praised, voice husky. “So tight and wet… taking me so perfectly. Good girl.”

Tiffany whimpered at the praise, her hips rolling up to meet his thrusts. “More… please… fuck me harder…”

Minjun gave her what she wanted. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and started pounding into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the bedroom. Tiffany’s moans turned into broken cries of pleasure.

“Yes—! Right there—! Don’t stop— ahh!”

He reached between them to rub her clit while thrusting, bringing her to another intense orgasm. Tiffany came hard, her walls clenching around him as she cried out his name.

Minjun flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up and entering her from behind. He fucked her deep and steady, one hand tangled in her long hair, the other gripping her ass. Tiffany pushed back against him, moaning into the pillow.

“Harder… use me… I want to feel you tomorrow…”

He obliged, pounding into her with controlled force, whispering filthy praise in her ear.

“Look at you… taking my cock so well while your husband is working… such a naughty wife…”

The dirty words combined with his skilled thrusts pushed Tiffany over the edge again. She came with a muffled scream, her body shaking violently.

Minjun finally let go, burying himself deep and filling her with thick, hot ropes of cum. He kept moving slowly through his orgasm, milking every last drop inside her.

They collapsed together, breathing heavily. Minjun pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead and stroking her back tenderly.

While they had barely caught their breath when Tiffany’s phone began vibrating on the nightstand. The screen lit up with the name “Yeobo” (husband) and a heart emoji.

Tiffany’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of guilt and thrill flashing across her face. She looked at Minjun, who was still buried deep inside her, his body pressed against hers.

“It’s my husband,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Minjun, still buried deep inside her, didn’t stop. Instead, he rolled his hips in a slow, deliberate grind, pressing against her most sensitive spot. A soft, melodic whimper escaped Tiffany’s lips.

Minjun’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. Instead of pulling out, he rolled his hips forward in a deep, deliberate thrust, making her gasp.

“Answer it,” he murmured against her ear, his voice low, confident, and dangerously calm. “I want to hear you talk to him while I’m inside you.”

Tiffany’s breath hitched. The forbidden thrill made her pussy clench hard around his cock. With trembling fingers, she reached for the phone and answered the call, putting it on speaker so Minjun could hear everything.

“Yeobo… hi,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Her voice came out breathier than she intended. “You’re still filming?”

Minjun smirked and started moving again — slow, deep thrusts that made her bite her lip hard to stifle a moan. His cock dragged against her sensitive walls with every stroke.

Byun Yo-han’s voice came through the speaker, warm and tired. “Yeah, we’re on a night shoot. It’s going to run late. How was your photoshoot today? You sound a little out of breath.”

At that exact moment, Minjun thrust forward — deep and powerful. Tiffany’s eyes rolled back, and she had to bite her lip hard to suppress a moan.

“Ah— it was… really good,” she managed, her voice breathy. “The location was beautiful. The sea view was… ah— perfect and the photographer… he’s very skilled. That’s make me… work easier.”

Minjun smirked against her neck. He started moving again, slow but deep strokes that dragged against her walls with delicious friction. His hand slid down to rub her clit in tight circles, adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

He leaned down and sucked on her neck, biting gently as he picked up the pace. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her soaked pussy was barely masked by her voice.

“You okay, babe?” her husband asked, sounding concerned. “You sound a little out of breath, did you push yourself too hard today?”

Tiffany’s free hand gripped the sheets tightly as Minjun picked up the pace, fucking her with steady, controlled thrusts. The wet, obscene sound of his cock sliding in and out of her soaked pussy was barely masked.

“I’m fine,” Tiffany replied, biting back a moan as Minjun hit a particularly deep spot. “Just… tired from posing all day. My body is sore.”

Minjun’s eyes darkened with lust. He grabbed her hips and started fucking her harder, deep and powerful strokes that made her breasts bounce. Tiffany had to cover her mouth with her free hand to muffle the sounds.

Tiffany’s eyes fluttered. She tried to keep her voice steady. “The… the new dress felt amazing on camera. The photographer did a really good job capturing the mood.”

Her husband chuckled softly. “I can’t wait to see the photos. You always look so beautiful. I miss you.”

Minjun thrust particularly hard, hitting her g-spot perfectly. Tiffany couldn’t hold back a soft, melodic moan.

“Mmm— thank you, yeobo… I miss you too…” Tiffany whimpered as Minjun suddenly thrust harder, hitting her g-spot perfectly.

You sure you’re okay?” her husband asked again.

“Yes… I’m just stretching a little,” she lied, her voice shaky. “My legs are sore from standing all day.”

Her voice cracked. “Ah— I’ll… I’ll take a hot bath and go to bed soon.”

Minjun grinned against her neck and started fucking her faster, the bed creaking softly beneath them. He rubbed her clit with expert precision, pushing her closer to the edge while she tried to maintain the conversation.

“I should let you rest,” her husband said gently. “Call me tomorrow morning?”

“O-okay… goodnight. I love you,” Tiffany managed, her voice trembling as her orgasm built rapidly.

“I love you too. Sleep well.”

The moment the call ended, Tiffany dropped the phone and cried out loudly.

“Fuck— Minjun— I’m cumming— Ahhhhhh!”

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. Her pussy clenched violently around his cock as she squirted hard, soaking his thighs and the sheets. Her entire body shook uncontrollably, melodic cries spilling from her lips as pleasure overwhelmed her.