PINK — Gaeul

There’s nothing better than coming home after a long day of work, especially when it’s composed of cheaply paid overtime and overdue deadlines. You exhale weakly, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Your boss has been pushing you too much around lately, and you could only comply since you were in a lower step in the corporate pyramid.

But everything will be worth it once you see your wife.

You kill the engine, grab your bag, and hurry inside.

“I’m home,” you call out. “Gaeul?”

Silence answers you.

Maybe she’s in the bathroom, you think, but when you go there, she’s nowhere to be found. You check the kitchen, and again, nothing. Then you go through the hallway and see the light on in your shared bedroom.

You slowly open the door, and the sight blinds you.

Gaeul is lying on the bed covered with soft, pink satin pillows and bedding. Her long, light brown hair loosely falls over her shoulder. Her expression is calm, almost dreamy, but there’s a faint smile painted on her lips. She’s wearing a pale, delicate dress with thin straps and subtle lace details.

Your mouth is left open, your lungs empty. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. She looks unbelievable.

“Finally, you’re home, baby,” she says softly. “I’ve been waiting for sooo long.”

Gaeul softly shifts in the bed, stretching her arms and legs, while letting the straps fall over her shoulders in the process. You look at her clavicles, her thighs, her calf. There’s so much skin yet she’s so covered.

“You’ve left me so pent up,” she hums, letting the last words pop in her lips. “Are you gonna fix that?”

You let everything fall from your hands—keys, jacket, the whole day—because the only thing that matters is the way she’s looking at you. You climb onto the mattress fast, wasting no time. The mattress dips under your weight, letting her slide towards you. Gaeul smiles brightly when she realises her outfit did its work, and her lips quickly meet yours.

You kiss her slowly and deeply, letting her mouth melt into yours. She tastes warm and sweet, like the lip balm that she always used. She kisses you back with a needily, fingers curling in your shirt, too shy to grab your hair or anything else.

That’s when you feel it—a hard, throbbing shape pushing against the bottom of her nightgown. Gaeul whines each time she feels you brush against her.

“God, you’re already hard?” you whisper and giggle softly.

“What did you expect? It’s been a whole week already,” she says with puppy eyes.

Her girlcock is straining so hard it’s practically lifting the fabric, the outline unmistakable when she arches her back. It’s true. You haven’t seen her penis in a long time, and if there’s one thing you want right now, is see her whimpering penis.

But you’re not giving in. Not yet.

You break the kiss and trail your lips down along her cheek and to the thin, warm skin of her neck. Your mouth starts softly sucking on the spot under her ear, the one you always know drives her crazy. Gaeul shivers—her thighs squeezing together as she feels her cock twitching.

“Mmh—don’t tease,” she mutters, her hips involuntarily rolling toward you.

You smile at her plea.

“You’re so cute, Gaeul,” you say, and she groans. She loves it when you praise her. You continue to kiss her neck, leaving faint hickeys around her pale skin, stopping only to nibble her earlobe.

Your chest brushes hers as your hand moves lower to her belly. You rest your hand there, on her soft midriff. You softly caress her, and she gasps at the touch, arching up a little, hoping you’ll move just a bit lower.

You take your time.

Your palm glides over the delicate fabric of her nightgown in lazy circles. Every time your hand dips slightly, she holds her breath, expecting you to reach between her legs. But you don’t.

“Please, touch me,” she whispers.

“Be patient,” you tell her.

“I’ve been patient all week,” she complains.

The next destination is her hips. You put your hand under the dress, feeling the hem of her panties. Your palm meets her thighs, smooth, soft, milky. The moment your fingertips graze her skin, she squirms, then moans when you stroke the inside of her thigh.

Her legs part just a little. Gaeul needs it now.

You can feel it too. You can feel the heat between her legs radiating to the back of your hand. You can feel how moist her skin has become in her inner thigh. So you make her wait because you want her wetter, more eager, more desperate.

Your hands leave her thigh and go back up to hold her waist. Your lips are still at her throat. You follow the line of her neck, then lower again, down to her clavicles. Her erection strains harder under the nightgown.

Gaeul lets out a frustrated, needy whimper. “You’re doing this on purpose…”

And you are.

“Aren’t we so eager, now?”

Your hands keep drifting over her thighs. Every time she thinks you’re finally going to touch her properly, your fingers glide away. And each time, her penis grows harder, more desperate.

She’s trembling now.

Your thumb skims higher, brushing the hem of her panties, close enough that she gasps and lifts her hips toward you. But you don’t go further.

She groans, head rolling back on the pillow.

“B-baby…” she whines, voice breathy and thin, “don’t—please just touch me…”

She lets out a frustrated, breathless moan.

Her thighs rub together, desperate for the touch you’re refusing to give her. Her whole body lifts off the mattress when your hands start playing with her underwear. Your fingers slide under the rubber band and come behind her, fondling her soft ass cheek.

Gaeul moans. It’s not her cock, but it’s finally something.

“Please…” she whispers, voice cracking at the edge.

She gasps as your fingers sink into her ass while your thumb comes so close just to rub her groin. Your nail is scratching her skin, so close to her. You don’t want to give in yet. Seeing her so pent up is way too fun.

“Please… you’re killing me…”

She’s not even trying to hide how badly she wants you now. Her whole body is tense, her breathing is hard and ragged. Her eyes are coated with lust. You can tell by the way she looks at you that she only wants you and no one else. You almost feel bad for teasing her so much.

You settle yourself between her legs and lift her gown up. Her panties are soaked through, a dark, wet patch clinging tight over the swollen outline beneath. Precum has already bled through the fabric, shining faintly in the low light.

You brush your fingers lightly over the damp spot and feel the heat radiating from her.