FULL HOUSE

If you’re being honest, it’s a good look on her.

Winter—typically a screaming, squirming bedmate—looks far more composed today: stripped down to her birthday suit, save for the silicon cock adorning her alluring hips. She watches, just for now, a curator observing her own exhibition of sin.

Today’s exhibit: Minju—A friend of a friend kind of deal. She’d confessed to boredom, to a series of lackluster encounters with pretty boys who treated sex with her like a gentle, predictable waltz. She wanted to be ruined, she’d said, needed a good fuck to appease her.

And that was an invitation you and Winter were all too happy to accept.

It seems she got more than she bargained for.

You’re positioned neatly under her, hands resting in limbo between those plump cheeks and creamy thighs. You settle for both as you leave absolutely no chance for the neighbours to second guess what exactly it is you’re doing to her.

“It’s so fucking good ,” she’s crying—the last coherent string of words she’s managed to speak among the endless whines, moans and screams. 

The full force of your hips skyrocket into that lovely little cunt of hers, her eyes clamp shut, arms suspended by her own body seizing up at the sensation. You lick your lips at the sight of this gorgeous little thing: Her perfectly styled hair is a wreck, mascara smudged in streaks down her cheeks, and she’s never looked more beautiful. This, you think, is the real Kim Minju, stripped of all pretense, and reduced to a weeping, cock drunk vision.

And there’s more where that came from.

From just behind Minju, Winter does not sit idly, stroking her strap-on with a healthy coating of lube. Taking a moment to pour another dose onto Minju’s tighter hole, she sends you a nod—the signal that she’s all ready—and you slow your thrusts to a halt to let Minju catch her breath. The sudden stillnes, though, is its own kind of torture for her; she whines once more, her hips making abortive little circles, desperately trying to chase the feeling you’ve just denied her.

“Oh, Jesus,” she shakily breathes, completely collapsing on top of you. 

You press a kiss to her forehead where it’s come to rest on your chest—the least you can do when you’ve fucked her into oblivion. 

"Look at her," Winter muses, a soft counterpoint to Minju's high-pitched whimpers. "So greedy. One cock isn't nearly enough for a greedy little starlet like you, now is it?”

And all Minju can muster is a demure nod.

“Seems you’ve got her number,” you reply with a smirk. Your gaze locks with your girlfriends’ over Minju’s trembling back, and in that shared look passes a universe of understanding—the pure, unadulterated joy of a shared craft, of reducing something so precious, so beautiful to its most primal, honest components. 

“Our little starlet was built for a full house,” you declare, “let’s not keep her waiting.”

Winter responds with a euphoric smirk ,pressing the tip of her plastic cock onto Minju’s asshole. In an instant Minju’s upright again, head cocked to catch a glimpse of Winter entering her tight hole. 

"Uh-uh, baby," you coo,"Eyes on me,” and you tell yourself it’s to prepare her, but really you just want one thing. You turn her head back, capturing her lips, and, put simply, you devour Minju—her gorgeous lips, that beautiful face—swallowing the sharp, startled gasp that escapes them as Winter begins to push. 

Your hand finds a button on your phone and it’s like the calm before the storm.

Then, Winter bottoms out.

And Minju’s screaming. 

Well, is trying to, at least.

What comes out instead are these muted breaths, warm on your face, made sweeter by the simply delectable face she’s making. That perfect mouth agape, eyelids fluttering in tandem with her overwhelmingly full body. The view is shifted as Winter grabs her hair in a make-shift ponytail, pulling her up right, suckling her neck and whispering what might be the filthiest things you’ve ever seen leave those pretty lips.

“God,” she breathes in between hungry kisses,” Is our slutty little actress enjoying herself?”

She nips at Minju’s earlobe. "Look at you, taking us both like you were built for it. Just a perfect, pretty little set of holes. Bet you've never been this full, have you?” A hand lands on her ass, feeling it in its entirety. “You think your fancy actor boyfriends could ever fuck you like this? Make you feel so complete?"

Minju doesn’t respond—save for the relentless clenching of her pussy around you—how could she?

She’s got one cock in her cunt, one in her ass, and the most gorgeous woman in the world nibbling her neck and making her feel like the dirtiest. Winter let’s her down and once again she’s collapsed on you, and she’s this broken record of vocalised pleasure: singing a sweet mantra gasped into the crook of your neck. The lyrics, though, are a funny one, the consequence of a vocabulary reduced to a single, overwhelmed syllable: 

ah, 

ah, 

ah.

 You're doubtful she’s ever gotten a better fucking than this, hell, you know she hasn’t, and that’s exactly why you spur her on to the definitive proof of it.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” you growl, tightening your grip on her hips, stilling her desperate little circles. “Don’t you dare hold back. You’ve been so good for us, so perfect. I want you to let go. I want to feel you shatter, break. I want you to cum for me, Minju, for us.”

And Minju’s right there, right there, she’s writhing, she’s screaming, she’s calling out you name and Winter’s till that sweet, cathartic release, and—

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” She cries out in complete bliss, shuddering and breathing in ragged sobs, clenching and convulsing and losing her grip on reality as she knows it.

“Time!” Winter shouts out from behind her, voice a sharp contrast from before, and instantly your hand is on your phone.

“Thirty point five seconds,” you read out from the stopwatch app. 

“Thirty point five!" she cheers, slapping the shaking Minju's ass. "Oh, you absolute champion. You’re officially the fastest we’ve made someone cum! Our new little record-holder.” 

Her voice drops back down:

“Our perfect, “

“little,”

“fucktoy."

Minju scoffs. “Yaaaaay,” she manages, utterly drained, spent, and half-way to passing out. 

“What do you say, Minju? Another attempt later?” You ask sweetly, tracing the line of her spine, grinning at the fine tremors that still wrack her frame. "See if we can get that time down to an even thirty? Really make a spectacle out of it.”

Shock appears on her face as she furiously shakes her head, a spark of genuine, overwhelmed terror in her glazed eyes. The message is clear: her body simply cannot comprehend the possibility of more.

And yet, with suddenly renewed energy, Minju speaks her first coherent sentence in a long time:

“You two are fucking insane.”