Chapter 1

Yooyeon had always looked like the picture of innocence to everyone else, long dark hair framing a soft, delicate face, big eyes that sparkled with quiet curiosity, slender 165 cm frame that moved with effortless grace. People whispered she was the pure type, the kind of girl who studied hard and blushed at compliments. Only you knew the truth.

You'd finally mustered the courage to confess after months of stolen glances and late-night texts. Heart hammering, you told her you liked her, really liked her. She tilted her head, smiled that sweet rabbit-like smile, and said,

"Okay. But first... watch this."

Before you could process it, she tugged you into the empty equipment room behind the practice studio. The door clicked shut. She didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees in front of the burly sound engineer who'd been lingering after tripleS' late recording session, unzipped him with practiced ease, and took him straight into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her lips stretched wide, cheeks hollowing as she bobbed hungrily, moaning around the thick length like she was tasting her favorite candy. Drool already glistened on her chin. Her eyes flicked up to you, bright, crazed, pupils blown with pure lust, and she pulled off just long enough to gasp,

"Mmm... so good... I need it so bad today..."

Then she dove back in, gagging herself willingly, hands pumping what her mouth couldn't reach. The engineer groaned, fingers tangling in her hair, and she let him fuck her face like she was made for it. Wet, obscene slurps filled the small room. Your stomach twisted, cock throbbing painfully in your pants despite everything.

When he came, she swallowed every drop, throat working visibly, then licked him clean with slow, grateful swipes of her tongue. She stood up, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and turned to you beaming.

"Your turn to film next time, okay? I want memories of all the cocks I take."

That was how it started.

A week later, backstage after a fansign. Yooyeon dragged you and two security guards into a storage closet still wearing her frilly stage outfit. She hiked her skirt, bent over a stack of equipment cases, and spread herself with both hands.

"Come on... both of you at once. I can take it. I want to feel so full..."

One took her mouth while the other slammed into her from behind. She squealed in delight around the cock in her throat, hips pushing back greedily to meet every thrust. Her pussy made loud, slick sounds with each deep plunge; she was already dripping down her thighs before they even started. She came twice in under five minutes, shaking, eyes rolling back, babbling nonsense like "More—harder—give me more cum—"

You held the phone steady, zooming in on her stretched lips, her bouncing tits spilling out of her top, the way her walls clenched visibly around the guard pounding her. She looked over at the camera, straight at you, and winked, tongue lolling out as drool dripped.

After they both finished inside her (one in her mouth, one deep in her cunt), she scooped the leaking cum from between her legs and licked it off her fingers, humming happily.

"You're so good at filming, baby. Makes me even wetter knowing you're watching."

The next time was in the dorm shower after practice. Three of the staff guys joined, ones who'd been eyeing her sweat-slick body all day. She got on all fours under the hot spray, ass up, begging.

"Use me like a toy. I don't care who goes first, just keep going until I can't think anymore."

They rotated. One in her pussy, one in her ass, one in her mouth. She took them all eagerly, body rocking between them, muffled moans vibrating around whichever cock was down her throat. Water cascaded over her skin, mixing with spit and cum. She came again and again, squirting messily onto the tiles, laughing breathlessly between thrusts.

"Ahh—yes—fuck—I love this—I love dick so much—don't stop—"

When they were done, she was a dripping, trembling mess, cum leaking from both holes, face glazed. She crawled over to you on her knees, nuzzled your crotch through your pants, and looked up with those big, glassy eyes.

"Your turn to clean me up with your tongue later? Pretty please? I saved the taste just for you..."

She didn't wait for an answer. She just grinned, stood on shaky legs, and skipped out of the shower like nothing had happened, already humming the group's latest title track.

Yooyeon wasn't cruel. She wasn't trying to hurt you. She just... needed sex. Constantly. Insatiably. Like air. And somehow, in her wild, pleasure-drunk world, you were the one she kept coming back to, the one who filmed it, the one who held her after, the one she kissed softly on the cheek and whispered,

"You're the best... because you let me be like this."

And every time she said it, she was already reaching for her phone to text the next guy on her endless list.