Discretion

Jeon Somi is a woman of many things, but subtle is not one you would ever even attempt to associate with her.

She’ll look offended when she hears that. Of course she will, because she’s perfectly capable of being subtle—practically part of her job description to look so inconspicuous when she’s out and about being the celebrity that she is. Never know when she’ll get asked for photos or autographs or whatever else she needs to do if she bumps into a fan or ten.

And you’ll be laughing and smiling at the bullshit that oozes out of her. Remind her the multitude of times that you’ve had to cover up for her because she needed to ‘rub one out’ before a set or delay the shoot for another half hour because she couldn’t help but get her makeup ruined.

Totally not your fault, by the way.

And you could go on and on and on about it, go take a walk through memory lane with all your shenanigans with Somi across the entire world. Name a place and she’s probably gotten you involved in some obscene scheme somewhere in the area. Busan, Paris, New York—it’s like she’s collecting some goddamn postcards everytime she’s fucked in a country.

But what you’re looking at right now, with your own two eyes ultimately sums it all up.

Because, look: Somi is hot, and she knows it. Her tits are peaking out of that one piece, fabric bulging out at the swell of her breasts just to show everyone that yes, her tits are as big as the deep cut of her swimsuit, her entire goddamn back is out for fucking free which is an entire thing to marvel at on its own and her ass, shapely, superbly slappable as it is, is swallowing up what’s left.

And she doesn’t a fuck who sees. Even flaunts it to whoever's lucky enough to pass by the pool when she's laid out on the lounger like a veritable snack. Which, you know, if you’re being completely honest, more power to her.

It’s not like you’re complaining about it. You’re more just—

“–Saying that you’re really bad at the whole secretive, subtle thing.” A shrug of your shoulders, enjoying the sweet taste of coconut at every sip. “I mean, have you seen what you’re wearing?”

“Of course I have.” Her fingers tiptoe down her thighs, running them through the edges of the blue fabric and giving it a slight tug; that snap filling the air when it hits skin. “I think it makes my ass pop out a lot more.”

And you're inclined to agree, adding the fact that her thighs are accentuating everything else she's got, and she's a walking, talking thirst trap that you try and fail to handle, twenty four seven, seven days a week.

“And my tits too.” Oh, get the fuck out of here.

“You are really not selling your case well.” You’re shaking your head with a laugh when she starts to squeeze her own tits, pushing them up and nearly making them spill out the top.

“Babe, I'm telling you, I can be very quiet.” That smug little look on her face does nothing but convince you of the fact that she really can't. “And really sneaky too.”

Queue the eyebrow wags, that shit eating grin that always spell trouble with a capital T, and she's sitting up straight to look at you.

“If you want to–” Now she's egging you on, jutting her chest out at you as if you need any more encouragement to go along with this game of hers. “I can show you how good I am at both right now?”

She's crossing her legs, tilting her head just the way she knows would hook you in. Braided ponytail resting on one side of her chest, stray strands falling down her face—she has it down to a science when it comes to luring you in.

You're putting your drink down and raising your sunglasses up—Not because it was the polite thing to do when a pretty lady asks you a question.

It's to let her know you're staring right at her tits when you say, “And how, pray tell–” You tear away from her chest to look up at her grinning face. “Would you go about doing that?”

“Well, I heard the bathroom's pretty big,” she starts, playing around with her braid, staring past you for a moment. She stands up, taking a towel with her as she starts her walk.

“And I can be really quiet when I'm on my knees.”

Now that, you're sure, is another concept you'll never associate with her.

That's not to say she isn't trying to be quiet, your cock in her mouth and all, her gags echoing off the walls certainly don't help.

Especially when you're thrusting your hips and making an absolute mess out of her face; tears already starting to run down her cheeks, hand tight on that braid to tug away at your leisure, spit already drooling down in droves over her chin.

You can tell she loves every second of it, those eyes of hers looking up at you with that elated glint in them that you’d think she planned all of this (oh, you bet your ass she did). Hands behind her back, tilting her head back just right for you to slide in deep, groin to nose until she’s gasping for air.

She’s got you right where she wants you, and you have her right where you want her to be, because apparently all Jeon Somi needs to understand the word subtlety is your cock and a room to fuck her in.

And you’re never really given a chance to say no when it comes to her, considering the benefits that she can offer when you agree.

Especially when you hear her gag on your length, and she’s trying to keep some form of decorum fighting back the need to pull you out of her sweet lips to take a breath. She’ll power through it, take it all on the nose and give you a grin while you’re sliding your cock back into her throat.

A proper trooper, she is.

“And here I thought–” You’re almost tempted to pull out of her lips, give her the chance to answer you when you’re questioning how silent she really is when she’s slobbering all over your dick. So when she’s tugging the string holding her one piece up to expose her breasts, and you’re looking at them as if it’s your first time seeing a pair of tits as big as hers. “You can keep quiet.”

You reach down to palm one, feeling the weight of them in your hand; letting the soft pillows give under your fingers as you squeeze, the hard nub of hers rubbing against your palm. And she’s moaning all over your cock, these small vibrations adding to the already addictive sensation of her hot, wet mouth.

Somi makes a move to pull away, finally getting her hands on you to jerk you off. “I thought I was doing a good job,” she says, licking her lips off any spittle, taking it into her mouth before letting a glob fall down onto your tip. “I’m just making sure you’re all nice and wet before you fuck me–” Her lips pout, eyes taking a quick glance around the bathroom, stroking you lazily. “Anywhere, really. Take your pick.”

The choices aren’t much, even with how fancy of a bathroom this was. Every single one has its own appeal—watch her face contort in pleasure when you have her fucked against the bathroom counter, or her tits shoved in your face as she rides you in one of the stalls, maybe even have her chest pressed against the shower wall when you fuck her against it.

All these options presented before you, and you settle with the simplest one. No reason for it, really, except for maybe the fact that you really, desperately need to fuck a load into her, and every second wasted is one that’s not your cock inside of her.

“On your hands and knees for me, please?” The glee in her face as she sends you a devious grin, leaning in to give your head a quick kiss before doing what you’ve told. Stroking yourself as she bends over, the angle of her back arching looking so unspeakable fine that her ass sticks out all the more, and you’re muttering a little ‘fuck me’ under your breath watching it all happen in front of you.

“Like this?” Her head turns back, smirk on her lips, eyebrow raised, ass wagging left and right. You spot that little damp spot right where her pretty little cunt is, and you’re kneeling down behind her, thumbing the stain and running circles over it.

“Just like that, baby,” you murmur, snaking up to pull the swimsuit to the side, her pussy glistening and the thought of having a taste is tempting you so damn badly. Shame you’ll have to postpone it back in the hotel room, though the heat enveloping the tip of your cock as you inch your way inside her walls is doing wonders to you nonetheless. “God, so wet already?”

She’s completely in her element, the satisfaction in her sighs as you bottom out, sticking her ass out even as you’re balls deep in her already. “Been wet since we got here,” she admits, hand reaching back to pull the edges of her swimsuit even more, stretching the fabric over the valley of her ass. “And I’ve been–fuck, right there–been horny since we got down to the lobby.”

Your hand is sliding its way up her ass, following that defined line of her spine, enjoying the way she’s shivering under your touch, up until you reach the back of her neck, fingers reaching up to her braid and giving it a quick tug. She makes this surprised gasp when her head gets pulled back at every deep thrust, letting out a sultry giggle. “So rough today.”

“Can you blame me?” Your palm lands on her ass, that beautiful sound that resonates around the bathroom, fingers digging into the mark you left. “You’ve been teasing me with your ass all day.” Give her another slap on the ass, and you’re ramping up your pace with her.

This teasing hum slips out of her lips, and you just know if she could turn her head back at you she’d have that diabolical little shit eating smirk all over her face. “Don’t be scared, babe,” she purrs, all breathy and moaning and good Lord you’re not going to last long when she starts spouting shit like–“Everyone can look, but no one gets to fuck this ass but you.”

And, really, what else can you do but plow her harder?

Your grip around her hair tightens, cursing at how her cunt tightens up around you, tugging her up so her back is pressing up against your chest, and the view of her tits bouncing at each stroke you is immaculate. Your hands move to wrap around her, one to grope a breast, another to feel her abs flex as she takes you.

Your lips latch onto her neck, sucking and nipping at the wet skin, lapping up the sweat and thinking that you’re utterly fucking gone for this woman’s body—tits, ass, cunt and all. You bite down hard on the one spot that has her screaming, her hands gripping your wrists as you follow it with a suck.

Leaving her with that red mark, pumping her full of cock while you pinch a nipple, whispering filth in her ear; and she’s drinking it all up, grin on her face as you spout just what you’ll be doing to  her once you get back to your room, giggling at the air being blown into her ear.

“Fuck, I’d let you do that in the elevator,” she replies after one of your fantasies—whichever one it was—gets spoken out, and you’re grunting out a chuckle. “Give the security guard watching the camera a good show and all–”

Somi’s as fucked in the head as you are, and that’s one of the reasons why you’ve stayed with her all these years. 

Who wouldn’t, when it’s Somi you’re talking about?

You’re growling her name out, your hips erratic, chasing that high that’s coming closer and closer and closer that you’re not hearing her begs of wanting it too, pleading with you that she’s as close as you are, her pussy gripping snug, as if she’s already milking the cum out of you.