Morning wood

Biology lesson: men get morning wood (as a kind of erection) because of pee. This isn’t something you Googled – you lived this experience – but you get why it is something people ought to search up. The human body, after all, is fascinating in a way that only divine intervention (or evolutionary circumstance, also divinely intervened) can explain.

Take, for example, how your girlfriend would, on a good day, make no hesitation to marvel at it and think, “I want to put that in my mouth.” In a way, the cause was science; the effect was art.

HAEWON

If Haewon should be anything, she ought to be a doctor, because the only way to describe her treatment of your cock was surgical.

With a single flick of her tongue on your tip, she could make you twitch all the way up your chest. She could run a single nail up the underside of your morning wood, and it would pulse until your balls retreated into you. And with a single, perfectly damp kiss at the end of your cockhead, she could break your silence and turn you dumb.

And this doctor loved to operate.

Haewon pushed her tongue right against your frenulum, feeling every bump and rise on each millimeter of skin. Her eyes could drill holes with her unbroken gaze, the reddening head of your member receiving all of her attention.

You trembled out a moan as your eyelids flickered open. She smirked ever so lightly, too focused to emote further. Only when you craned your neck to look did she glance at you with a full smile, wrapping her lips around your swelling tip as she did.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she purred.

She swirled her tongue around your warming head, forcing out a shaky exhale. Haewon’s fingers pressed into your thighs, the flesh pale under its clasp.

“Look at me.”

You propped yourself up by your elbows, watching her push her tongue into the tip of your cock, as if she were trying to slide it in. Already sensitive, you chuckled – not merely out of excitement, but the realization that you were minutes away from release.

“Good f- fucking morning too, babe,” you muttered.

“You looked like you wanted this,” she raised an eyebrow. “Had to do something about it.”

“I can– mmmh, see that,” you heaved as she continued licking you from base to tip.

She grabbed your hand and led it to her hair. “Hold this up for me, please.” Once you did, she started taking your whole length in and out of her mouth at a steady pace.

Her cheeks caved in as your length disappeared into her head. You could feel her gulp her way down to the hilt, the gagging more performance than reaction. Each twitch made her eyelids flutter, the whites of her eyes and the passion hiding beneath peeking past her laboratory determination.

She surfaced for air, her cool demeanor broken by the thrill. That was Haewon for you: she could look soulless while in her craft, but deep down she cherished the satisfaction of accomplishment. As you said: surgical.

“Wanna cum, babe?,” she asked, gently trickling down a wad of spit on your already drenched cockhead. You nodded, but you may as well not have – Haewon simply had her own way with your words, your climax brought closer at a slightly less edging pace.

You felt your head sink into and past the pillow, its patterned cover turning into the hazy walls of your vision. You struggled as each pump of Haewon’s spit-filled cheeks was timed so steadily that your brain hung in the limbo of buildup and finish.

“Babe, I'm–,” you struggled, but Haewon simply kept going. You squirmed, legs kicking about and arms frantically trying to relax her head, but her vacuum lips kept your cognition weak. And once she’d sucked you stupid, bumbling and frantic, she was relentless.

She let go of you. You cock hung in the air, twitching aggressively and shaken awake by your bucking hips. The second your pelvis crashed back into the bed, she grabbed your cock with both hands and stared you down.

“Good job, babe,” she praised. “Cum.”

She pumped her hands hastily, a smile finally curling on her face. Only when she knew the fruits of her labor, her precision and her control (of herself and you) was she satiated.

Enough that, for the brief second of reprieve, her monolithic gaze gives way. She was no doctor; she just loved you (and your cock) that much.

“Give it to me,” she begged, eyebrows furrowed and pleading. “I want it so bad.” She stuck out her tongue, rubbing your tip on its bumps and resisting the urge to swallow it whole. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she loved it on her face far more.

Your release spurted all over Haewon’s face, the first strand striping up her nose and onto her forehead. She giggled as each one she aimed across her cheeks and her lips, her breath trembling with unspoken bliss.

“I love you,” she smiled warmly, coated in your seed, slowly taking your cockhead in to clean it from bottom to top. With a few pumps, what few streaks that spilled over were gone, your cock slowly drying up from the cool air.

You caught your breath for a few moments. “You… gonna wash up?”

“In a bit,” she smirked. “This feels nice.”

YUNJIN

Yunjin prided herself in being just as much the art as she was the artist; but when it came to the bed, your dick wasn’t the paintbrush – it was her canvas, and her lips were her tools of the trade.

Yunjin planted a single kiss on your shaft, causing the taut muscle to bounce against her lips. She’d revel at her handiwork – a single string of saliva and precum, slowly falling into a stream that ran down the veins on your shaft.

She couldn’t help but giggle, marveling in satisfaction.

Every kiss she made, she made the same string, dribbling down the underside of your erection in an unceasing trail. It was no coincidence: it took a great deal of restraint, of control over her artistic vision, that she salivated all over her plump lips. And as your cock twitched and the rising and falling of your belly hastened, she was gladdened.

Smack, smack, smack. She made sure every kiss, every spit-coated graze of her lips on your length was audible. Light pecks turned into a full makeout session with the sides of your length, the soft ridges of her lips brushing against your already sensitive skin.

And she wanted to wake you up to the sound of her precum-coated smooches and her anticipant giggles – and your cock burning for resolution.

When you craned your neck up, her lips were already latched to your shaft in another kiss. She let go with a satisfied toothy smile.

“Good morning, honey,” she greeted warmly.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed, giving another smooch on your erection. “Your cock looked too… lonely.” The coldness of her lips made each kiss electric, and your cock sprang in response. And she loved watching it.

“I could do this all morning,” she teased, planting another kiss, and another. “Until I’ve painted you completely. Or maybe,” she blew a thin stream of air on your slit, “until you’ve painted me completely.”

It was so easy to lose yourself watching her glaze your dick, both with literal spit and the figurative praises mixed into each strand that dribbled down slowly. Soreness slowly crept up the tensed muscles – she’d been at this for a while.

Yunjin did this thing where she took your cockhead in your mouth, clenched her lips just enough, and spat all over until heavy waves of drool slowly inched down your shaft. With two fingers and her thumb, she stroked you, pressing down hard on the sensitive underside and glazing your cockhead with her palm.

Your arms and legs contorted in different ways as you splayed out in all manner of ecstasy – her artwork, which she witnessed materializing with satisfaction.

“Enjoying yourself, babe?,” she checked in, spitting on your cock once again. By this point, your sheets must have had their own artwork of drool and all manner of bodily fluids, but that was for Yunjin to appreciate later.

In fact, “appreciation” was too weak a word for her treatment; “worship” would be better, daintily holding your shaft with both hands by the fingertips, her eyes closed and relished at its length rubbing against the edges of her face.

“I love your cock,” she whispered, eyes hidden half-moon behind the widest smile. Her face – her eyes and her smile, brimming with all the words a thesaurus could have filed under love – was its own masterpiece.

“I love you t–,” you cut off, as she silenced you by slowly, tauntingly dragging her fully lolled tongue across the underside of your cock, leaving you giggling with her as she did.

“You can cum whenever you want,” she smiled, kissing your shaft once more. “If you can.”