Lips #18 (Aespa's Ningning)

Your apartment is quiet. Except for the faint sound of your footsteps across the floor after you dropped your things at the door. Waiting by the couch, on her knees, is Ningning. Her hair falls in loose waves around her face, framing the black leather collar snug around her throat. A thin silver tag dangles from it. Engraved with one simple word.

“Pet”

Her eyes flick up the moment you appear. Wide, expectant and shining with need. She shifts slightly on her knees, hands folded neatly in her lap just the way you trained her.

“Good girl.”

Your knuckles brush along her cheek. Her lips part at the praise, a soft whine escaping her. She leans into your touch like she can’t help herself. You sink onto the couch, spreading your legs.

“You know your purpose.”

“Yes, Master.”

Ningning whispers instantly, her voice small but eager. Her hands are already reaching for your waistband. She frees you a moment later, her breath catching as your cock springs heavy into her palm. She doesn’t hesitate. Her lips open. Her tongue stretches out. And then she lowers her mouth onto your shaft until the tip presses against the back of her throat. Her body trembles, but she stays there. She chokes softly, drool pooling at the corners of her mouth. The collar around her throat shifts with each swallow, a perfect reminder of her role.

You rest your hand on her head, feeling her throat flex around you.

“That’s it.”

Ningning moans softly around your cock, the vibrations running straight up your length. She doesn’t bob her head or move. She just stays buried, her throat stretched, your cock snug inside her mouth like she was made for it. Saliva leaks freely down her chin, dripping onto her chest. But she doesn’t move a muscle. Her only purpose now is to keep you sheathed. To be your personal cock warmer. Until you decide otherwise. Your cock is sunk deep into her throat, her lips sealed tight around your base. Her eyes are half lidded and teary. Her chest rises and falls in shaky little gasps every time she swallows around you. The drool that has been dripping steadily from her chin is now already sliding down her collarbone, soaking into the thin fabric of her top.

You barely spare her a glance. Your hand rests lazily on her head, more out of habit than need. Your other hand moves to your phone. You unlock the screen, scrolling casually through messages, emails and a couple of news headlines. The contrast is obscene. You, relaxed and busy. Ningning, trembling and stuffed full, her throat stretched wide by your cock.

A faint gurgle escapes her when she shifts her jaw, but you ignore it. She whines softly around your length. The sound bubbles through her spit, and the vibration makes you twitch against her tongue. You glance down briefly, meeting her pleading eyes, then return to your phone. Her throat flexes again, swallowing around you instinctively. You don’t react.

Minutes pass. You scroll, answer a couple of texts, adjust yourself deeper into the couch. Meanwhile, Ningning drools messily, saliva coating your cock and pooling down onto her chest. Her thighs press together tighter and tighter as the ache between them builds. Every so often she moans. Muffled and weak sounds of plea. But you just stroke her hair absently, as if she was a pet.

“Good girl.”

You praise without looking up, your eyes still on the glowing screen in your hand.

She shudders at the praise, her whole body trembling as she continues to hold you in her throat. Your personal cock warmer, silent and forgotten while you focus on everything but her. Ningning stays buried on your cock, her throat stretched, lips pressed tight against your base. Drool streams down her chin in long, messy ropes. Now it’s already dripping onto her knees and pooling on the floor. Her eyes water constantly, tears mixing with spit until her face glistens. You sit back, scrolling casually. Eventually you log onto Tinder.

Your thumb moves idly, flipping through photos of smiling, dolled up girls. Fit bodies, pretty dresses, party poses. All the while, your cock sits lodged deep in Ningning’s throat, her whole body trembling just to keep you warm. Every so often you pause, tapping a girl’s profile to check more pictures.

“Mm… she’s cute.”

You murmur to yourself.

“Nice body. Could be fun.”

Ningning makes a strangled noise around your dick, her throat tightening, but you don’t acknowledge it. You just keep scrolling, your cock twitching in her mouth whenever a particularly hot profile flashes on screen. Her eyes lift, watery and wide, staring at you with disbelief. As if she can’t understand how you could even think of other girls while she kneels here. Her lips stretched. Her throat raw. Her face dripping.

But she doesn’t move. She can’t. She’s your pet.

A thick gag rattles from her chest when her throat spasms, forcing another flood of spit to leak down over her collar. You just pat her head absently, eyes still on your phone.

“Easy, pet. Don’t make a mess. You’ll ruin the floor.”

Her body jolts with humiliation, but she swallows hard, trying to steady herself. She lets out a muffled whine that vibrates around your cock, as if begging for your attention. You swipe again, grinning faintly.

“Damn… this one’s gorgeous. Wouldn’t mind having her on her knees, too.”

You glance down briefly at Ningning, her face ruined with spit and tears, her lips stretched red and raw around you.

“Not that you count, of course. You’re just my cock warmer.”

Her eyes flutter shut at the words, her whole body trembling. She’s suffering, degraded, but obedient, holding your cock in her throat as you keep swiping through prettier, “better” girls.

You keep going, half smiling at the screen while Ningning gags softly around you. Her lips are swollen, her throat stretched to its limit, but you don’t pay her more than a passing glance. Instead, you stop on another profile. A girl in a tight red dress, posing with her friends at a bar. You tilt your phone down toward Ningning’s tear streaked face.

“Look at her.”

You say, as though Ningning is nothing but an audience.

“She’s way hotter than you. Can you imagine how good she’d be on her knees?”

Ningning’s eyes lift, watery and pleading. But you just angle the screen closer until the photo fills her vision. She moans weakly around your cock, the sound echoing through her spit as it slides down her chin. You swipe again. Another girl, this one in gym clothes, toned body gleaming with sweat. You chuckle.

“Bet she could ride me for hours without stopping. Way better than anything you could do.”

Ningning lets out a muffled whimper, her throat convulsing as she swallows around you. A fresh flood of drool spills down her neck, soaking into her collar. She trembles, not daring to pull back, even as the humiliation makes her chest hitch with sobs.

You scroll once more, stopping on a bikini shot. Long legs, curves displayed perfectly in the sunlight. You lean back and sigh contentedly, your cock twitching inside Ningning’s throat.

“God, just imagine fucking her… she’d be heaven. Not like you.”

Ningning’s whole body shudders at your words. Her lips tighten instinctively around you, as though trying to prove her worth, to cling to the only role you’ve given her. You don’t acknowledge it. You just rest your hand lazily on her head. Your thumb hovers over the screen, smirk tugging at your lips as you scroll through the bikini girl’s gallery. Her name flashes across the top.

Somi

One photo has her leaning against a pool chair, tits straining against a tiny top, her smile bright and inviting. Another shows her leaning forward at the pool’s edge, water glistening on her back, her ass just barely visible beneath the surface.

You tilt the screen so Ningning can see, your cock still buried in her throat.

“Look at Somi. Should I text her, pet? See if she wants to come warm me up instead?”

Ningning whimpers around you, her throat tightening as she tries to shake her head. Her eyes widen, glistening with tears, her lips trembling against your shaft. But you just chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You type out a quick message, something simple but suggestive and send it. The little whoosh sound of it sending makes Ningning flinch. She moans weakly, muffled around your cock. You swipe again, scrolling lazily through more girls, each one prettier, hotter, more carefree than the one drooling at your feet. Ningning’s chest heaves with every shallow gag, her body shaking as though every swipe cuts deeper.

Then…

Ding.

A notification.