coup de théâtre - a sudden and surprising event
“You’re just not getting it.” Wonyoung stresses as her hands settle on Rei’s hips. “If we get too close here, it’s going to ruin everything.”
“So you don’t want me right here?” Rei’s shoulders slouch and she pouts in confusion.
“Watch. Yujin, you know what you’re doing.” Wonyoung signals the other girl over. “Gaeul, ready?”
She gives a confident nod and readies her posture.
“Alright, music, cue.” That is your signal. See, that’s the only reason you’re here. Wonyoung insisted you help them out during their dance practice. With the speaker at your feet, you slouch against the mirrored back wall. You can see yourself, shorts and tee loosely hung from your body, in the mirror across the room. Between you and it, the four girls are ready to spring to life. They swear they’ll make it big, maybe they will, but they’re not there yet.
You hit play on your phone. “Five, six, seven, eight,” and three of the girls dance. Wonyoung watches as the girls inevitably get in each other’s way. Rei goes to cross between Gaeul and Yujin and the gap is so small that she almost takes a fist to the face. The mistake brings them to a halt.
"See? We need better spacing.” Wonyoung demands the point again and stands between the three, explaining how things will have to line up. The four of them flail arms, pointing at their feet, imitating footwork and readjusting as needed.
You’d argue she isn’t even the best dancer among them, not that there’s much disparity between them. But she’s the one who insists they have to be critical or they will never get better. The girls take this school dance club more seriously than anything else in this place. They start from the top again with another countdown and another play from you. It doesn’t take long for everyone to get back into the motion. Gaeul turns, Yujin shifts, and Rei steps. This time it all goes buttery smooth.
Hips sway and asses shake. Bodies glimmer with sweat under the studio lights. All their slender figures move with equal parts energy and sensuality. The original choreographer wouldn’t say it, but to say it’s seductive wouldn’t be wholly incorrect. From the powerful steps to the flowing graceful movements, the whole thing is a pleasure to watch. Every little flourish is alluring and equally mesmerising.
This continues, round and round, over and over and over. Slowly, they iron the kinks. Work out the errors. Find the minor adjustments. All until they’re dancing with all the confidence they need to own the stage when the time comes.
The sweat on their bodies soaks in to the tops of their practice outfits. Each movement has their loose strands of hair cling to their faces, necks, shoulders. They’re drenched, exhausted, but they keep pushing through the final attempt. The music fades out; they finish. Rei throws herself on the floor. Laying, legs extended and arms resting beside her, she stares at the ceiling for a while with a soft groan.
The other three head toward you (more accurately; their drinks). You lift yourself up onto the bench, taking a seat at the end and handing the bottles to the girls. Wonyoung sits right beside you and leans back against the wall mirror.
“Good job. That looked great.“
"Yeah.” Wonyoung barely manages that as her heavy, laboured breath requires most of her focus. She grasps her bottle with trembling fingers.
“That was good,” Gaeul confirms as she takes a seat next to Wonyoung.
After handing a bottle to Rei, Yujin stands right in front of you. Drink in one hand and the other resting on her hip, at the waistband of her skin-tight leggings. “What about me? Did I look good? I think I nailed it.” Yujin breathes as the words escape her lips. Her heavy lashes lower and gaze at you. A bright smile spread across her pink-tinged, sweat-slicked cheeks.
You reply honestly. “Yeah, you did. Perfect.”
Rei lets out a couple of forced coughs to mockingly comment between them; get a room.
Wonyoung snickers at Rei’s joke. Her breathing steady and her gaze on Yujin. “Looks like she wants to, don’t you, Yujin?”
“You think?” Rei chimes in again.
“I think so,“ Wonyoung chuckles and swipes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "The changing room is free, but I can’t promise I won’t walk in.”
It’s like she insists on making it as awkward as possible. But there’s no way she can know about you and Yujin. No. That’s impossible. This must just be a coincidence—a light-hearted tease.
“So when’s next practice?” Gaeul interrupts, saving you both your blushes. “I can’t do any weekend practices, I’m going on a trip.”
“Oh right, the fiancé,” Wonyoung begins, and you brace yourself, because you know the kinds of things she usually says here. “why him? Isn’t he kind of… beneath you?"
Wonyoung is every bit as blunt and harsh as usual. There’s no ambiguity there—no double-meaning or clever innuendo. It’s a comment born out of her own distorted view that everyone is beneath her.
Yujin turns round, glaring with her brows raised and silently mouths the words: ‘are you serious?’
"I like him,” Gaeul answers simply. You’d never met her fiancé but if there’s one thing you’d learned about Gaeul in your limited interactions is that she didn’t act on whims. If she said yes, it’s because she really likes him.
“It’s his huge cock, right?” Wonyoung is as brash as ever and Yujin almost chokes on her sip of water. Rei’s head snaps up, and she’s staring from her laying position. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s caught in your throat.
“Maybe,” Gaeul cuts through the awkwardness. Everyone pauses. The attention in the room rests on Gaeul, each of them not so subtlely urging her to keep talking. Yujin takes a seat on the ground at your feet, cross-legged, and ready for a story.
Gaeul has one hand scratching at her arm and the other gripping at the bottle in her lap. She hesitates a moment. Maybe she’s busy wondering if she should (or if she dare) say any more. And then she erupts in to a story that pulls no punches. “This one time, me and him got into it pretty heavy and I was deep-throating his—sorry, too graphic?”
There’s a collective shake of heads. Even Rei has sat up to listen intently now. Gaeul gives the faintest smile in recognition and she continues.
“So there we were. I’m lying down and deep-throating his cock. I’ve got him all the way in my throat, and there was still more to go. I just couldn’t. As much as I wanted his whole cock in me, it just wouldn’t go.” Gaeul gives a pout, lamenting her failure. “I tried so hard, I felt like I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know how, not with that length buried in me. I felt so small, and… I loved it.”
Her face is turning a deep shade of vermilion as she relives the memory. Still, her hand squeezes tight around her water bottle and all the others wait for Gaeul to continue. Yujin is leaning forward, hands on her knees, eyes wide and listening closely. Wonyoung looks rather relaxed on her stretch of wall with her head laid against the cool surface. The sweat from her cheeks and brow slowly trickling down. But she’s rapt, fixated, awaiting the story.
“The tip hit the back of my throat. I just didn’t want it to stop.”
As she describes it, her candid description, with no holds barred, the vision her story creates does something to you. Your mind races at the thought that it might have been any woman in Gaeul’s position. Yujin. Wonyoung.
Wonyoung.
Her hand is halfway up your thigh, clearly excited at the image Gaeul is painting. You appreciate the gesture, don’t misunderstand that, but there’s enough sensory overload without having the weight of her fingers pressing into the firm muscle of your thigh. It isn’t doing you any favours as the tiny beads of perspiration at Wonyoung’s temple burn on her skin and her flush skin glows. There’s no blaming you for the fantasies that form in your mind. Each as naughty as the last.
Yujin.
She’s staring out of the corner of her eye, eyes locked with you and a blank expression on her face. And you just wonder, what it would be like to have her mouth wrapped around your cock. It’s difficult, staring down the girl you like while the girl you like (and regularly fucking) has a hand on your leg.
And you just want them both. Right here, right now.
Gaeul continues, “and he’s just grabbing at me, palm on my face, gripping my head and he’s just fucking my face.” You can barely hear her over the beating of your own heart in your eardrum—drumming loudly.
“I must’ve been choking, and he thought that was hot. He couldn’t stop and I didn’t want him to. He had me pinned, pressing his fingertips into my skin.”
Speaking of fingertips, Wonyoung’s trace your crotch, blindly roaming and teasing.
“Fuck.” Wonyoung’s only word—just a whisper from her lips.
Gaeul continues, “I was in heaven.” Her eyes are sparkling. They’re glazed over and far-away, lost in the vivid memory.
“Wow,” Rei stares in awe.
Gaeul shuffles around in her seat. First running her hand over her legs, pressed together at the knees, before moving a hand over her waist and pulling at the clingy material of her black yoga pants, that stretch tight across her hips. “So… Um… Yeah I guess you could say I like his huge cock.”
Yujin speaks now and her voice cuts straight to your core. “He must love that you’re, like, a total submissive slut in bed.”
“Sometimes,” Gaeul is almost back in the room, no longer enraptured by the memories of being used.
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