*September 22, 2022
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really…” Soojin replied as I’m struggling to contain my jealousy on the phone.
“I want details… Does that guy even speak Korean?” I growled, gripping my phone tighter as the bus hit a bump.
The bitch just laughed! That light, teasing sound that usually made me melt—but right now it just twisted the heat in my gut into something darker.
“He doesn’t need to,” she purred, leaning closer to her camera until her lips filled the screen.
“I could *feel* him when we dance… the way his hands slide up my thighs—” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, and suddenly the bus seat felt like it was burning through my shorts.
“And I speak some English as well, so no pressure!” She switched suddenly to a casual tone, like she did not just drop a bomb on my sanity.
“Okay… But why is there a black dancer? Am I missing out on a collaboration project or something?” I said, trying to sound casual while my fingers dug crescents into my palms.
Soojin just smirked, adjusting her camera angle so I could see the edge of her tank top riding up—just enough to remind me of what I wasn’t touching.
“Oh, you didn’t know? They flew him and his crew in from LA for the new choreo. Turns out he *really* knows how to move those hips.” She bit her lower lip, slow, deliberate, and I nearly snapped my phone in half when the bus lurched again.
“Jealousy sucks, doesn’t it? Especially when it bites you back?” She chuckled, the sound like nails dragging down my spine—hot and sharp all at once.
“Who me? I’m not jealous… I-I’m just… Sticking with our arrangement…” I heard myself saying, each word feeling like sandpaper in my throat—too rough, too obvious.
The way her eyebrow arched told me she wasn’t buying it, but I kept my jaw locked tight, refusing to let her see how badly I wanted to pin her against the nearest wall and remind her exactly *whose* hands knew her body best.
“Oh, Tae…Think about all those times you were fucking bad bitches while I tried to stay faithful…” She sighed, licking her lips as she stretched her arms above her head, the fabric of her tank top pulling taut across her chest.
“Imagine what was going through my head when you were fucking Yeowool, Hyejin seonsaengnim, Hyomin sunbaenim, Son Juyeon, and Lea Navvab?!?! Not to mention, your coaches, as well?!? Oh… It breaks my heart…” She fake-sobbed, wiping nonexistent tears with her fingertips, but her smirk never faded—only deepened, her eyes locked onto mine through the screen, daring me to call her bluff.
“So who is it this time, cheater? Magenta Unnie? Hong Jihye? Who’s the lucky girl that’s going to borrow *my* boyfriend’s cock today?!?!” She hissed, leaning into the camera with narrowed eyes—that playful smirk twisting into something sharper, hungrier.
“W-Well… I’m not meeting any of them today… I don’t even think I’m fucking this one…” I replied back, before I could take the words back into me, the sudden realization hitting me like a knee to the ribs.
“There’s another?!?! Oh… My heart…” Soojin clutched her chest like a K-drama lead in the middle of a breakup scene, her voice cracking with exaggerated devastation—but her fingers were spread just enough for me to see her grinning behind them.
“Who the hell is that, Tae? Another client that wants to pull down your pants?!?!” She leaned closer, her breath fogging up her phone screen like she was right there, whispering against my ear.
“It’s… Kim Sejeong actually… The wrestling coach…” I muttered, watching Soojin’s smirk freeze mid-tease.
“Oooh… You mean Mrs. Muscles?!?” She teased, but I could hear the edge in her voice, the way her fingers twitched against the screen.
“What about her, Tae? You don’t look like you’re getting hard being alone with her…” She scoffed, but her voice cracked—just enough for me to catch it.
“I mean… W-Well… The thing is… I heard a rumour…” I hesitated, my grip tightening around my phone.
“There’s a rumour between us in the gym that she is seeing Han Eunsu-nim… The Dark Horse…” I muttered, watching Soojin’s teasing smirk flicker like a faulty neon sign. Her fingers froze mid-air, her nails—usually sharp enough to leave marks—now just hovering there, twitching.
“Han Eunsu? You mean that guy who did that viral knockout in China?” she breathed, her voice suddenly smaller, tighter.
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering against my throat. “Yeah. The same guy who’s supposedly the ex-boyfriend of Queen Minnie of Thailand. His next fight is in Bangkok later on her birthday.” I exhaled sharply, watching Soojin’s pupils dilate—her teasing smirk gone, replaced by something raw and curious.
“Wow… That’s quite the connection,” Soojin murmured, her earlier teasing tone dissolving into something softer, more intrigued. Her fingers tapped absently against her chin, her gaze unfocused for a moment—like she was piecing together some scandalous puzzle in her head.
“But rumors are rumors, Tae… You already know gossip and I don’t have a great history,” Soojin muttered, her voice suddenly brittle.
The playful tease in her tone evaporated—like someone had flipped a switch. Her fingers curled into loose fists, knuckles pressing white against her thighs. I remembered then, sharp as glass: the headlines, the leaked texts, the way Square Entertainment dropped her like a burning coal overnight. All because of school bullying she did at a time when we were still immature and foolish.
“But you already know how it is right? If there is no smoke, there is no fire.” She scoffed, her fingers tightening around her phone—her nails digging into the case.
“And with that… I have to get back to *rehearsals* with AJ… See ya…”
“H-Hey!” I barked into the phone, but the screen went black before I could finish—Soojin had hung up mid-sentence, leaving me staring at my own reflection in the darkened screen.
My jaw clenched so hard I tasted copper. The bus lurched again, throwing me forward, and I barely caught myself before my face smacked into the seat in front of me.
I looked outside only to find myself already in my stop—Gugudan Academy. The bus doors hissed open, releasing me into the humid Seoul afternoon. My gym bag slapped against my thigh as I strode toward the entrance, Seojin’s words still coiled around my brain like barbed wire. The automatic doors slid apart, and the sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with sweat punched me in the face.
“Ah! There you are, Tae…” Sejeong Noona’s voice echoed across the mats, sharper than usual—like she’d been waiting too long.
“Don’t take too long getting dressed up… Showers are that way… I’ll be waiting…”
“Yes, ma'am…”
The locker room smelled like stale soap and old sweat, the kind that clung to the walls no matter how many times they sprayed it down. I peeled off my shirt, the fabric sticking to my skin with the kind of dampness that only Seoul humidity could produce. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering just enough to make my reflection in the mirrors look jagged—like I was already halfway to falling apart.
I’m getting ready to train, but my mind still can’t get Soojin off my head, the thought of her finally paying me back after all this time. I still couldn’t believe it! Soojin was finally letting someone hit on her, some guy named AJ who was part of a dance crew in LA. She said they were here for a couple of weeks for a special seminar between J Perfect dance academy and their crew.
She has been talking about a guy getting too close to her, clearly making a move like I used to—but this time, *I’m* the one left gripping my phone too tight while she laughs, sharp and knowing. The weight of her smirk settles in my gut like a dull blade twisting slowly, deliberately. I’ve done this to her before—flaunted my conquests, watched her jaw tighten—but now, tasting my own medicine? It burns hotter than any training session.
I thought, Oh lord, I better make this all worth it when I’m done in Singapore. That bitch is so gonna get it!
“Taehyuna! Are you getting out or what?!?”
“Y-Yes, sunbae!” I barked out, nearly slipping on the tiles as I scrambled out the stall.
I made my way back and Noona was already doing some laps on the mat, warming up and stretching. Her usual playful smirk was gone—replaced by a sharp, focused glare that pinned me in place the moment I stepped onto the mats.
Her muscles flexed under her tight rash guard as she rolled her shoulders, the veins in her forearms popping with every deliberate movement. This wasn’t the teasing coach who’d laugh when I fumbled a takedown—this was Kim Sejeong, the local MMA champion who ragdolled bitches for fun.
“Hundred laps for being late… Go!” She didn’t even look up—just jerked her chin toward the far end of the gym where the timer was already counting down.
Her voice was flat, stripped of all the playful warmth she’d used during our last session. I opened my mouth to protest, but the icy flick of her eyes toward me snapped my jaw shut. This wasn’t a negotiation. The mat felt like concrete under my bare feet as I took off at a dead sprint, the burn in my lungs immediate and vicious.
I do my laps, each one a blur of sweat and burning muscles, but Sejeong’s gaze weighs heavier than the exhaustion. By the fiftieth lap, my legs were starting to shake—not just from exertion, but from the way she watched me, arms crossed, her sharp eyes tracing every stumble.
“Palli!” she barked, voice cutting through the gym’s stale air like a knife.
I finished with a gasp, my knees nearly buckling as I staggered to a stop in front of her. Sejeong didn’t move—just tilted her head, her dark eyes scanning me like I was a problem she needed to dismantle. The silence between us stretched too long, too thick, until she finally exhaled through her nose and jerked her chin toward the center of the mat.
“Right. Now relax your muscles for a bit. Then we can start.” She instructed.
I could feel my lungs burning as I rolled my shoulders back, stretching my arms overhead until my spine popped in three places. The ache in my legs was sharp, insistent—like tiny knives pressing into every overworked muscle. I dropped into a deep squat, letting my hamstrings scream their protest before easing into a slow, controlled butterfly stretch.
The relief was instant—my muscles unfurling like coiled springs finally given permission to snap loose. I arched my back, rolling my neck until it cracked, the tension bleeding out of me in slow, satisfying pulses. Sweat dripped off my nose onto the mat, each drop spreading in a tiny dark circle before vanishing into the rubberized surface. I stretched my arms overhead, fingers interlaced, pushing until my ribs ached—then held it there, breathing through the burn.
“Feeling better now?” She muttered, circling me like a hawk eyeing prey.
“Y-Yep!” I replied, like I did not just run laps until my vision blurred.
She just smirked, rolling her shoulders in a slow, deliberate motion—the kind that made her traps flex under her rash guard. She stepped closer, the scent of her coconut shampoo mixing with sweat, and suddenly the mat felt too small.
“Good,” she murmured, her breath warm against my ear as she reached out—not to push, but to adjust my stance, her fingers lingering a second too long on my hip.
“Because we’re drilling takedowns today. And you’re going to *feel* every single one.”
*2 hours later
“Phew… I’m toast…” I gasped, collapsing onto the mat like a sack of wet rice.
My arms screamed—every tendon, every fiber cooked to the point of trembling. Sweat pooled beneath me, seeping into the rubber as Sejeong Noona loomed over me, her shadow swallowing me whole. She wasn’t even breathing hard, just rolling her shoulders like she’d done a light warm-up instead of grinding me into paste for two straight hours.
“That was great, Tae! But seriously, you really need to set up your entries more. Your takedown attempts won’t do it by the time you face ranked opposition.” She chuckled, rolling her wrists as she crouched beside me—too close, her knee brushing my thigh.
Her sweat-damp rash guard clung to every ridge of her abs, and I caught myself staring at the vein pulsing along her forearm when she tapped my ribs with her knuckles.
“You’re explosive, but you telegraph like a fucking billboard,” Sejeong muttered, her knuckles pressing into my sternum just hard enough to make me suck in a breath.
“But yeah, I’m confident you’re gonna beat this guy. Who are you fighting again?” She tilted her head, her knee pressing deeper into the mat—closer to my hip than necessary.
“Some Chinese guy called Ning Guangyou? He won The Ultimate Fighter: China awhile back,” I panted, rolling onto my side just as Sejeong’s knee shifted—her thigh now pressing flush against my ribs.
“He’s said to be a Wushu Sanda guy. Other than that, I don’t know how good his wrestling or jiu-jitsu is.” I added, acutely aware of how her thigh didn’t move away—just pressed harder, her heat bleeding through my shorts.
“Oh, an old fart… You got this, Tae! He’s definitely going to retire provided you knock him out or submit him. But if you give him a chance, he’ll eat you alive with his Wushu Sanda striking. So yeah, I’m confident you got this in the bag once you take him to the ground!” She added, her fingers now tracing idle patterns on my chest—too light to be accidental, too deliberate to ignore.
“So! You know where the showers are! Got any more questions before you head out?” She asked casually, stretching her arms overhead—the movement pulling her rash guard taut across her chest, the fabric riding up just enough to reveal the sharp cut of her hip bones.
“I do, actually…” I muttered.
“What is it?” She simply inquired.
I hesitated, my throat suddenly dry despite the sweat still cooling on my skin. The words coiled in my chest like a spring—too tight, too dangerous.
“I… I mean… It’s not too much to ask but…” I hesitated, my fingers digging into the mat—partly from exhaustion, partly from the way her knee shifted higher against my ribs.
“Is there… really something… between you and… Han Eunsu-nim?” I choked out, the question burning my tongue like cheap soju.
Her fingers froze mid-trace against my collarbone. Her knee pressed deeper into my ribs—suddenly less playful, more like a warning. The gym’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting her sharp jawline in a harsh white glow as her lips parted, then tightened into a thin line.
“Why would you like to know?” She finally spoke, her voice low—almost dangerous.
“W-Well, I mean… Magenta Noona keeps telling me that you blush every time someone mentions his name… Like you’re hiding something,” I stammered, watching Sejeong’s nostrils flare—her fingers curling into fists against my chest.
The air between us thickened, charged like the moment before a lightning strike. She exhaled sharply through her nose, her knee pressing harder into my ribs until I hissed.
“She talks too much,” she muttered, but her fingers relaxed—trailing down my sternum in a slow, deliberate path that made my breath hitch.
“But since you asked…” Her thumb brushed the edge of my shorts, just above my hip bone, and suddenly the mat felt like it was burning through my skin.
“Then yes. I have history with him. I helped him wrestle, and he taught me how to strike.” Her fingers traced higher, skimming the edge of my abs—slow, like she was mapping territory.
“But that’s not what you’re really asking, is it?” Her knee pressed harder, her smirk sharpening.
“W-Well I… I mean… You don’t have to tell me everything… J-Just the… Basics, I guess…” I lied, half-choking on my own spit when her fingers hooked under the waistband of my shorts—just barely, teasingly.
“The *basics*, huh?” She laughed—low and throaty—as her fingers finally slipped past the waistband, her nails scraping lightly against my hipbone.
“Okay… I had him here too… Alone… All by myself… Just… Like… This…” She murmured, her fingers curling tighter—her nails pressing crescents into my skin as she leaned down, her breath hot against my ear.
“Except… He came in uninvited… Just showed up one afternoon and said he wanted to improve his grappling.” She said suddenly, like she did not just make my heart pause for a moment.
“So we trained… I tested his grappling… I improved his posture… And let’s just say… Our hands got a little more familiar than planned.” Her fingers slid further down, her nails dragging sharp lines along my hipbone—just enough to make me twitch.
“Sound familiar?” she murmured, her lips brushing my ear—too close, too hot—before pulling back with a smirk sharper than any elbow strike.
“But if you’re asking if we’re an item, I can’t say for sure… The man has some *loose ends* to tie up, like this next fight of his in Thailand, where he’s going to meet his ex, Queen Minnie!” She chuckled.
“Oh-Ohhh… Yeah… It’s been on the news recently… He dated the Thai Queen when she was still a Princess?” I stammered, my throat tight as her fingers traced lower—her nails scraping the sensitive skin just above my groin. Her knee dug deeper into my ribs, pinning me in place while her other hand gripped my wrist, pressing it hard against the mat.
“Mmm. Around 3 years ago,” she murmured, her breath hot against my neck.
“The story goes he was just a lonely Korean boy in a small village in Phuket and the Princess just showed up at his gym one day,” Sejeong continued, her fingers inching lower—slow, deliberate.
“But you know how *that* ends. Royals don’t marry fighters.” She laughed, bitter and low, her breath ghosting over my throat as her knee shifted—grinding against my ribs in a way that blurred pain with pleasure.
“But the thing is, Tae… He’s still in love with her… His eyes did not lie the last time I spoke with him…” She sighed, her fingers finally slipping past my waistband—slow, deliberate—her nails scraping the sensitive skin just below my navel.
“And the crazy part? The Queen is still single…” She murmured, her fingers curling tighter around my waistband now—her knuckles brushing the first coarse hairs trailing lower.
“And I won’t be surprised if he’ll stay there and become her Royal Consort…” She concluded, her fingers suddenly tightening—yanking my waistband down just enough to expose the top of my groin.
“Now, what about you? Are you seeing someone? Do you have a reason for me to stop pulling down your pants?” She murmured, her fingers teasing the waistband further—her nails scraping the sensitive skin just above my cock. My breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear.
“Because right now, I see *nothing* stopping me.”
I thought, God! Is this really going to happen? Am I really going to fuck God Sejeong behind everyone’s backs? The same way I’ve been fucking Chodan and Magenta Noona behind everyone’s backs? Fuck, Lee Taehyun. You’re one horny motherfucker…
“W-Well I’m… I’m seeing someone… But there’s nothing official…” I choked out, swallowing hard when her fingers tightened.
“Nothing official, you say?” She exhaled sharply through her nose—half-laugh, half-snarl—before her fingers twisted abruptly in my waistband, dragging the fabric down another inch.
“Well guess what… There’s nothing official between me and Eunsu as well…” She growled, yanking my shorts down with one sharp pull—cold air hitting my exposed cock before her palm replaced it, rough and sudden.
I felt my heart stop for a moment, my dick crystal clear as day as Sejeong’s strong fingers curled around it, her grip tighter than any submission hold she’d taught me. My hips jerked instinctively—half-trying to escape, half-chasing the friction—but she just smirked, using her knee to pin me harder against the mat.
“Okay… I didn’t know you were this stacked!” She gasped, her fingers tightening instinctively—not just gripping, but exploring, tracing the thick vein running along the underside with her thumb like she was memorizing its path.
“Not as big as him, but damn! You’re right there!” She added, her grip tightening just enough to make me gasp—her thumb swirling over the head, spreading precum in slow circles that had my thighs shaking.
And before I could even process the thought—her lips were suddenly on me. No warning, no teasing flick of the tongue—just the sudden, searing heat of her mouth swallowing me whole, her throat clenching around the head like she was trying to choke the soul out of me. Her hands pinned my hips to the mat, nails biting into my skin as she took me deeper, her nose pressing against my pelvis with a wet, obscene sound that echoed louder than the gym’s buzzing lights.
“Oh god… N-Noona… Sunbae…” I gasped, my fingers clawing at the mat as her tongue pressed flat against the underside of my cock—hot, wet, and relentless.
Every flick sent electric currents shooting up my spine, her lips sealing tight just below the head to suck hard enough to make my vision blur. The contrast was dizzying—the slick heat of her mouth versus the rough press of her knee still grinding into my ribs, pinning me down like prey.
I thought, Shit! Who would’ve thought the wrestling coach was a cock hungry slut like this?!? Her mouth was relentless—hot, wet, and *experienced*. She sucked like she was trying to milk every drop out of me, her tongue swirling in tight, practiced circles around the head before diving back down, throat fluttering around my cock like she’d been built for this. Each time she pulled back, her lips created this obscene suction—pop—pop—pop—like she was counting the seconds until I’d lose it.
My hand reached out to the side, grabbing her ass through her shorts like I was checking the ripeness of a melon—firm yet yielding under my fingers, the muscle flexing as she shifted her weight against my hips. The fabric was damp with sweat, clinging to the curve of her cheeks in a way that made my grip slip and catch, the heat of her skin searing through the material.
“Let me help you with that…” She smirked, her fingers pulling down her shorts to expose the tight curve of her ass—just enough for my grip to sink into bare skin, hot and slick.
I thought, wow that’s big! Her ass was tight—like she spent every morning doing squats just to make sure it could crack walnuts. My fingers dug in deeper, kneading the muscle as she moaned around my cock, the vibrations sending sparks up my spine. Her rhythm stuttered for a second—just long enough for me to feel her smirk against my skin before she took me all the way down again, her nose buried in my pelvis like she was trying to suffocate herself. The wet, guttural sound she made when I bucked up into her throat had my toes curling against the mat.
“Oh god… Oh-Oh God…”
Her mouth was relentless—wet, messy, and *deliberate*. She didn’t just suck; she *drowned* me in it—her lips smeared with spit and precum, her chin glistening as she dragged her tongue up the shaft in one long, sloppy lick before plunging back down with a filthy, gagging noise.
I thought, Fuck! Anybody can come in and see God Sejeong balls deep into my cock, her throat spasming around me like she’s trying to win a belt. The door could swing open any second—some poor kid from the other class wandering in for their forgotten water bottle—and bam. Career over. Reputation ruined. But her nails dug deeper into my thighs, her tongue swirling under the head in tight circles that short-circuited every rational thought.
“You like my ass, huh?” She pulled off with a wet pop, her lips swollen and slick as she arched her back—deliberately pressing her cheeks harder into my palms.
“Wait til you see this, then…” She smirked, peeling her sweat-soaked rash guard overhead in one fluid motion—revealing tits that defied gravity, round and heavy with nipples already stiff from the friction of fabric.
“Oh, shit…” I choked out at the sight of them.
She scooted over, her whole body facing me now as she knelt between my thighs—those tits swaying slightly with the movement, nipples pebbled tight and flushed dark pink. And when she leaned forward, they pressed against my cock like warm pillows, soft yet firm enough to make my dick twitch against her skin. Her sweat-slick cleavage swallowed me whole, the heat radiating off her skin making my breath hitch as she squeezed her tits together—tightening the pressure until my cock was buried in a slick, musky embrace.
“Oh-Ohhh… Lord…”
The touch was electric—warm, slick flesh pressing tight around my cock in a way that made my hips jerk instinctively. They weren’t just soft; they were *engineered* for this, the perfect balance of pillowy give and firm pressure as she rolled them up and down my shaft, her nipples dragging rough against my stomach with every movement. Sweat dripped from her collarbone onto my pelvis, mixing with the spit still smeared across my skin, and the scent of her—coconut oil and salt and something *hers*—flooded my lungs until I was dizzy.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” She murmured, in which I could only nod dumbly, watching as she squeezed tighter—her tits molding around me like wet clay, the friction almost unbearable.
“Watch this…”
“Oh-Ohhh!”
Her mouth crashed down on me again, swallowing me whole while her tits still squeezed tight—hot, wet suction above and soft, slick pressure below, the dual sensation sending sparks up my spine. Her tongue flicked under the head in sharp, rapid circles as her tits rolled upward, trapping my cock in a slick, pulsing rhythm—up-down-up-down—her lips popping off with every upward thrust just to plunge back down, throat flexing around me in time with her breasts.
The sound was what hit me first—the metallic *click* of the gym door’s handle turning, barely audible over Sejeong’s wet, rhythmic slurps. My eyes snapped toward the entrance, adrenaline spiking like I’d been caught mid-fight. The door creaked open an inch, a sliver of fluorescent light from the hallway cutting through the dim mat area.
Yet Noona’s mouth didn’t stop—if anything, she sucked harder, her nails digging crescent moons into my thighs as if she was daring me to move. I could’ve sworn I saw movement—a shadow flickering by the doorframe—but when I blinked, the hallway was empty, just the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing like angry wasps. The door swayed slightly on its hinges, creaking from the phantom touch of Seoul’s sticky summer draft.
“Enough… Let me feel you…” She gasped suddenly, pulling off with a wet pop before climbing onto me in one fluid motion—her thighs straddling my waist like a vice.
Her mouth crashed onto me before I could breathe, her tongue pushing past my lips with a hunger that stole the air off my lungs. She tasted like salt and something metallic—my own precum smeared across her tongue. Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back to deepen the kiss as she ground her hips down, her bare pussy slick against my groin.
“G-God…” She broke her lips off to curse, her hands flying down to grab my cock—so slick with spit and sweat it almost slipped through her fingers when she lined me up.
“F-FUCK!” Her scream punched through the gym’s stale air as she fully sank down—no hesitation, no slow adjustment—just one brutal drop that buried me to the hilt in a single motion.
Her walls clenched instantly, a vice grip so tight it blurred pleasure with pain, her inner muscles pulsing like she was already milking me dry. Sweat dripped from her collarbone onto my chest, her thighs trembling against my hips as she threw her head back, her throat working around a silent scream.
“Damn you fill me good…” The woman hissed through clenched teeth, her hips rolling in slow circles—each movement a calculated drag of her inner walls against my cock, as if mapping every ridge and vein.
“You mean like Eunsu hyung?” I gasped, regretting it instantly as her nails raked down my chest.
She froze, her pussy clamping down so tight I saw stars, her breath hitching like I’d struck a nerve. Then she laughed—low, dangerous—and rolled her hips in a slow grind that had my toes curling against the mat.
“You’re close enough… But not quite there…” She growled, her hands gripping my shoulders as she lifted herself—only to slam back down with a force that knocked the wind out of me.
Her thighs flexed with each brutal bounce, her tits swaying wildly as she rode me like vengeance personified. The slap of skin echoed off the mats, mingling with ragged breaths.
“Fuck—yes—right there—” she gasped, nails raking down my chest as her hips found a punishing rhythm.
Each downward thrust punched a moan from her throat, raw and unfiltered, her head thrown back like she was challenging god himself. Her plump ass slapped against my thighs with every bounce, the sting blending with the slick heat of her cunt clamping around me—tighter each time, as if trying to wring the soul out of my dick. I gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, my fingers sinking into the soft give of her flesh as she ground down in slow, vicious circles, her inner muscles rippling like she was milking me dry.
“You—fuck—*move*,” she snarled, yanking my hands up to her tits, her nipples pebbled against my palms as she rode me like a fucking jackhammer.
And with that, I planted my feet on the ground and started thrusting up like my life depended on it—driving into her with short yet brutal snaps of my hips that punched the air out of her lungs. The slap of skin was loud, each upward thrust meeting her downward grind with a force that made her tits bounce wildly.
Her screams echoed throughout the gym, her fingers scrambling for purchase on my chest as I pistoned into her—deep, relentless strokes that scraped her inner walls raw. She tried to keep her rhythm, but I was owning her now—her thighs trembling, her cunt clenching around me like a vise as I turned the tables, fucking up into her with the same merciless paces she’d drilled into me on the mats.
“Oh, yes! Like that! F-Fuck me! FUCK ME! YES! YESSSSS!”
I growled—half in response to her screaming, half because her pussy was squeezing me like a goddamn python—and flipped us over in one brutal motion. The mat burned against my knees as I hauled her hips up, her legs hooking around my waist as I drove back into her without missing a stroke. Her back arched off the ground, her tits bouncing with every thrust, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream as I pinned her wrists above her head.
“Don’t stop! Don’t you fucking stop!” She shrieked, her voice cracking as I continued hammering into her—each thrust brutal enough to shove her up the mat, her shoulders scraping against the rubberized surface.
Her legs around my waist were like steel cables, heels digging into my back as she met every punishing drive with a sharp upward jerk of her hips. The wet slap of skin echoed off the walls, a wet, rhythmic smack that drowned out her gasps. I was bathing in sweat dripping from my brow onto her chest, rolling between her tits as her pussy clenched around me like a fist, pulsing with each ragged cry.
“Fuck, Sunbae! I’m close!” I gritted out, hips stuttering as she clenched around me like a vice—her inner muscles rippling in deliberate waves, milking me deeper with each ragged thrust.
“Pull out! Pour it all over my tits!” She gasped, her fingers clawing at my wrists as her thighs trembled around me—not a request, but a command from the woman who just spent two hours grinding me into submission.
I barely registered her words before I pulled out and my hips jerked violently, my cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum splattered across her heaving chest—her sweaty slick skin glazing white as she arched with a guttural moan. Her wet cunt clenched rhythmically around nothing, juices dripping down her thighs as she dragged her fingers through the mess on her tits, smearing it across her nipples with a satisfied smirk.
“Well… That was… Quite the workout…” She panted, her chest still rising and falling rapidly as she lazily swirled her fingers through the cum pooling between her tits.
“Tell me about it… I might’ve lost a pound or two after that…” I huffed, collapsing beside her on the sweat-slick mat.
My pulse still hammered in my ears, limbs heavy like lead, but my cock twitched when she lifted her fingers to her mouth—sucking my cum off them with a slow, deliberate pop. The sight sent a fresh jolt of heat through my gut, her tongue flicking over her fingertips like she was savoring every drop.
“Showers?” She nudged my ribs with her knee—her smirk returning as she rolled onto her side.
“Unless you want to explain *this* to the cleaning staff.” Her fingers traced a lazy path through the mess on her stomach, scooping up a glob before flicking it onto my chest with a wet *plop*.
“Sure thing…”
***
If there was anything more dangerous than wrestling Kim Sejeong’s chokes, it was her tongue in the shower—slow, deliberate strokes that tasted like stolen moments. I could feel the steam curl around us, swallowing the last remnants of our sweat as she backed me against the tiles, her mouth moving over mine with the same precision she’d used to dismantle my stances.
“So, QWER MMA’s cornering you for this fight? What strategies does Hyungtae Oppa have in mind?” She murmured between kisses, her fingers tracing the fading bruises along my ribs—leftovers from last week’s sparring.
“Actually, it’s just going to be Genta and Chodan…” I responded, seeing the clear shock coming from her eyes.
“Really? How come?” She inquired, her fingers stilling against my ribs as her brow furrowed.
“Well, his mother, Magenta Noona’s grandma has passed away… The man’s taking it real hard… So he instructed Noona and Chodan to corner me in Singapore…” I replied back, explaining to her the situation.
“Oh yeah… Rest in peace to her…” Sejeong murmured.
“Well, I can trust Chodan with her striking… But Ahee? I don’t think she actually knows how to wrestle… She can teach you how to grapple, but I don’t think she can teach you how to take someone down…” She added.
“And speaking of Ahee…” She suddenly laughed—low, throaty.
“Wh-What about her?” I stammered, my voice cracking as her fingers trailed lower—skimming my hipbone like she was contemplating her next move.
“Hmm… I don’t know… I think it was just a slip in the tongue…” She smirked, pulling away suddenly—her fingers leaving my skin cold where they’d been tracing fire just seconds before.
“Andwe! You can’t do this to me!” I growled, flipping us so fast her shoulders slapped against the tiles.
Water sluiced between our bodies, her nipples pebbling against my chest as she arched into the pressure, her smirk widening when my cock twitched against her stomach.
“Oh, you silly boy…” she gasped, bucking her hips up just enough to drag her wet folds against my shaft.
“Fine… I’ll tell you…” She sighed—long-suffering, theatrical—before dragging me back into a kiss, her tongue curling around me like she was savoring the last bite of a stolen dessert.
The steam thickened between us, her wet hands cupping my face as if memorizing its angles—her thumbs dragging slow circles against my jaw while her tongue mapped the roof of my mouth like she was searching for weak spots. The water sliced down her back, hot enough to pinken our skin, but nothing burned like the way she bit my lower lip—sharp then soothing with a flick of her tongue, a rhythm as calculated as any wrestling sequence.
“If Ahee’s gonna run her mouth with rumors about me and Eunsu… I think it’s only fair that I say some things about her as well…” She whispered against my lips, her fingers trailing down to my cock—already hard again—with deliberate slowness.
“Tell me, Tae… Have you ever noticed anything about her? Especially when she’s around her uncle…” She murmured, her fingers tightening around my dick.
“W-Wait… You’ve noticed it too?” I stammered, my cock twitching in her grip as my brain short-circuited.
“They’re close, aren’t they? Way too close… Like… Lovers?” She whispered, her breath hitching as her fingers twisted tighter.
“But you can’t prove it, can you? You haven’t seen anything?” She breathed, pausing her fingers tightening around my cock—not stroking, just holding me hostage.
I shook my head. I actually had nothing to say to prove her accusation. I wasn’t an expert at familial love. I just thought Noona being close to her Uncle was normal. But the way Sejeong Sunbae was talking—her voice low and conspiratorial, her fingers tightening around my cock like she was twisting the truth out of me—made me wonder if I’d missed something obvious.
And the next words that came out of her lips sent chills down my spine. “But I have…” Her nails dug crescents into my hips as she leaned in, her breath scalding against my ear.
“Caught them. In *action*.” The shower’s steam thickened as she rolled her hips against me, her slick folds dragging against my cock like punctuation.
“They thought I was gone… I came back one night after a training session to retrieve my Tumbler… But as I was heading back out, I heard moaning… Loud moaning…” Her breath hitched as she rocked against me, her wet skin sliding against mine in the steam.
“It was Ahee for sure… I thought she must’ve brought a boyfriend or something… But when I turned to look just enough to see the man’s face… Voila… It was Lee Hyungtae himself… Fucking his own niece… His own brother’s daughter… And Ahee was begging him for more… Louder…” Every word dripped from Sunbae’s lips like poison, her fingers tightening around my dick in sync with each syllable—punctuating the thrill of it all.
I thought, Damn! After all this time? Noona was in love with her Uncle like that? If they were a thing, why was she letting me fuck her every Thursday morning when no one was around? Shit! Does Coach even know? If he did, why would he let Ahee fuck me? Shit! It doesn’t make any sense
“And with Hyungtae Oppa grieving his mom’s death… I bet Ahee’s being the *loving* niece that she is by his side…” She added, the sudden realization hitting me!
“She… She has been ending classes much earlier lately… You mean she's—” I choked out, my cock twitching violently in her grip as the realization hit me.
“Oh yeah… She’s definitely on her knees right now sucking his dick… Or bouncing on his cock… Or both…” Noona murmured, her fingers twisting tighter around my shaft.
“So what do you think, Tae? What’s on your mind knowing your *coaches* love each other like that?” She whispered, her thumb pressing into the slit of my dick—hard enough to make my knees buckle.
“Sounds weird… But I think it’s kinda hot…” I admitted, the look of shock flashing across Noona’s face before she could school her features back to normal.
“Hmm… You don’t seem too weirded out… Are you into incest?”
“Wh-What?!? N-No!” I stammered, my hips jerking as Sejeong’s grip tightened more—her thumb swiping over the head with deliberate pressure.
“I mean… I didn’t grow up with a normal family to understand that… I’ve never met family other than mom and dad…” I admitted.
It was only just the 3 of us ever since, albeit prior to mom and dad’s divorce. Both of them said they were the only children in their families and their parents, my grandparents have all died already. I’ve never met anyone else after that. An uncle, a cousin, not even a sexy aunt for me to secretly fuck like Magenta was with her uncle!
“I see your point…” She uttered.
“So what’s it going to be? Still gonna make a move on Ahee after everything you’ve heard?” She asked, her fingers sliding back down my shaft with agonizing slowness.
Call me crazy or not, but I think Magenta fucking her uncle might’ve made my dick harder—not because I got off on the twisted nature of it, but because *knowing* something so forbidden lit up the same part of my brain that craved adrenaline. The thrill was in the danger, every stolen glance, every slight touch they thought nobody saw—like watching a fight unfold from the best seat in the house.
Sejeong’s fingers tightened around my cock, twisting the truth into arousal, her smirk telling me she *knew* exactly how fucked-up and exhilarating it felt to hold someone else’s secret in your palm like a ticking bomb.
“Actually, I’ve already made a move…” I uttered, correcting her statement as I took control and pinned her back against the wall.
The woman barely had time to gasp before I slammed her back against the shower tiles—my hands cupping her face to claim back her lips like a man starved. She tasted like steam and stolen secrets. The water sluiced between our bodies, her nipples pebbling against my chest as I rocked my hips forward—her wet cunt already slick against my cock like she’d been waiting for this.
“In fact… I think I’m gonna be rougher with her next time I get a chance…” I added.
“Hehe… I like the sound of that…” She replied.
“Just remember… You didn’t hear any of that from me… Got it?” She added, her fingers digging into my shoulders as I pressed her harder against the tiles, her wet skin sliding against me with a slick friction.
“Yes, ma'am…” I growled against her mouth, my fingers tightening on her hips as I lifted her effortlessly—her legs wrapping around my waist like she was born to be there.
“Good… Now shut up and fuck me…”
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