The Beginner's Guide

“Close the door.”

This is how it starts. Notice Wendy’s choice of words here. She’s left the door open to interpretation. Now, you have two choices: you can either lock the door—which is probably what Wendy meant when she said to “close” it—or, you can take her words at face value and merely close the door like she asked.

Leave the door unlocked.

Give any passersby the opportunity to walk in on whatever lewd things Wendy wants to do in the 10 minutes she has before she has to perform. Perhaps this way, she’ll learn to choose her words carefully next time.

After you close the door, Wendy will smile. “Well? I haven’t got all day.”

She’ll be sitting on the couch. Walk toward her, but not too fast! You don’t want to seem too eager. This version of Wendy only works when she’s the needy one. Give her any reason to think you’re the one that needs her and you’ll never hear from her again.

There are rules, you see, prerequisites established by Wendy for this thing between you and her to work out. First, she lets you call her whatever you want. Call her Wendy, call her your cumbucket, call her a slut (she particularly likes that one), but under no circumstance shall you claim her as yours. She is not your baby, your lover, your jagi. You are not her boyfriend. This is just sex. Because when you get caught (and you will), the first newspaper to break the story will claim Wendy is “dating”. Wendy will only speak the truth—she will say she is not dating to free herself from the backlash she will inevitably receive and place the blame on the newspaper for reporting fake news. For her, it’s all the fun without the consequences.

The second rule—the fun rule—is “never the same place twice”. This is just sex for her, and because it’s just sex, she will want to do it everywhere and anywhere. Seulgi’s room, the recording studio, in some dark alley, it doesn’t matter: when she texts you the time and place, she expects you to drop everything for her, no questions asked. Wendy enjoys the thrill. She wants to get caught. This is why you leave the door unlocked in the first place.

Now that you’re refreshed on the rules, you’re ready to begin.

Get right up to her where she’s sitting on the couch. Gently part her legs if you have to. Slap her hand away when she greedily tries to unzip your pants. She will play along when you tell her, “You had all day to text me, and you only decide right before you have to perform to call me here? Not a lot of time to do anything, Wendy. This is going to cost you.”

“Name your price,” Wendy will say.

There are rules to negotiation, just like there are rules for sex with Wendy. Ask for something absurd, something she’ll never agree to. Set the bar high so that what you get is closer to what you wanted to begin with. “Threesome later this week. You and one of your members. I don’t care which one.”

Wendy will scoff and present a counter offer: “Eat me out now and I’ll let you cum in me before our next performance and let that load soak through my safety shorts on stage.”

As tempting as that sounds, there will be no immediate satisfaction for you should you accept. Make one last offer.

“Blowjob with a blast to your face. Right now. Maybe I’ll play with your tits if you’re good. Final offer. I’m a very busy man, y’know. I’ve got better things to do.” Make it sting. There probably won’t be many things above “sex with Wendy” on your list, but you need to make Wendy believe she’s not that important—this is key.

She will complain about her makeup, how there won’t be time to redo it after you’ve ruined it, or her hair, how she spent the last couple hours getting it done. Tell her how it’s not your problem and walk toward the door. Wendy will curse, but she will finally agree because this is why she came running to you in the first place: no other man can sexually satisfy her the way that you do, so she’ll take whatever sex she can get, even if she’s not the one being pleasured.

“Fine. Handjob with a little tongue and you can cum on my abs,” she’ll say.

Turn back around, as you should always do. “Well, you better hurry then, princess. You’ve only got eight minutes left before you have to perform.”

She’ll be reaching for that zipper, but she’s a clumsy little thing, is used to handling bigger meaningful objects in her hand like a microphone, or your cock. Help her with the button, but watch as she finally figures out your skinny fit jeans and slides it down your legs.

Wendy will start to stroke, trying to get you hard for her. Let her. Undoubtedly, she will be in a hurry since she’ll have 7 minutes before she is called to the stage. It’ll feel great between her two skillful hands, but she’ll use one to start, claiming it’ll tire her arm, and she needs that arm to hold her mic up to her face in 6 minutes and 45 seconds.

“Maybe if you use your mouth, honey,” you’ll say.

Take your hand. Pinch Wendy’s chin between your thumb and index finger. Tilt her head upward so you can see the look in her eyes, determined, lustful, capable.

“You promised me a little tongue action, where’s that tongue?”

She’ll grimace. “One hand should be enough,” she’ll try to reason, but you know what it takes to get you off.

“Now. Or I walk,” you’ll say, firm and threatening, so that she understands the gravity of what’s at stake. It shouldn’t take more than that. Hold in your excitement when Wendy leans forward, parting her lips enough to stick that tongue on your tip.

Encourage her. “That’s it, right there.”

Guide her, show her where you want that tongue to be used. Bring her forward. She will try to sidestep your cock from entering her mouth, will run that tongue down the side of your shaft and make your member nice and wet. That’s okay! Make her lick your balls while she’s there, watch your cock twitch in Wendy’s grasp.

Notice how her lips have yet to touch any part of your cock. This is intentional. Look at those luscious lips glazed in gloss. She can’t afford to have them ruined by slurping up some dick just before a performance. Everyone will know then. This is why she settled on a handjob with a cum shot on the only part of her body that’s exposed in an outfit that would look better on the floor. Let her be. You’re a gentleman in that regard. If she drools from that open mouth tongue action she’s still doing on you, put your hand out underneath her chin to catch her saliva so it doesn’t drip onto her pants.

There will be a knock at the door sooner or later. “Five minutes, miss Wendy!”

This is why leaving the door unlocked is important, for times like these. Wendy will tense up, her hand on your cock tightening its grip out of surprise. What she won’t know is that the stagehand could walk in on her stroking and licking your cock right now. Imagine the look on her face when he does.

But he won’t. People in this town are too nice.

“Coming!” she’ll say, and you’ll reply with something stupid like, “Hey, that’s my line!” Wendy will roll her eyes and tell you to quiet down, but ultimately will do three things.

First, she’ll stroke faster out of necessity. This is no longer a “want” but a “need”. She needs you to cum so she can get on stage. Second, she’ll finally add that free hand to your shaft, gripping you the same way a baseball player would grip a bat. Lastly, she’ll lick your tip, just a little, starting with the underside of your cockhead, swirling around that sensitive area, and finishing with a little flourish at the tip, all without breaking eye contact.

Compliment her again, then remind her of what she promised. “So fucking hot, Wendy. But you know what happens next, right?”

She won’t need much more of a reminder than that. Apply some pressure with a pushing motion to her shoulder, just enough for her to take the hint. She will fall backfirst onto the couch.

Straddle her.

Watch as her eyes flicker as she lets out a moan when you slip your fingers between her legs, in that thigh gap, rubbing, feeling the heat radiating from Wendy’s pussy even with her pants still on.

Remind her for next time: “This tight little kitty could’ve been enjoying some action right now if her owner didn’t call the lion tamer so late.” She’ll be too lost in ecstasy from your touch, and too determined with your cock to notice, but that’s okay, too.

That’ll be enough pleasure for Wendy’s pussy this time. Any more than that and she’ll be too lost in her own little world to give a fuck about her performance, the one on stage later and the one on your cock currently.

By now, Wendy will have done a good enough job to get your cock rock hard. Reward her for it. Reach underneath her top with both hands, carefully lift it up off her arms, and let it rest as a useless necklace around her neck. This way, you don’t mess up her hair by pulling it up over her head, and she won’t need to put it back on when you’re done. More importantly, it now gives you a buffer when you overshoot Wendy’s abs and cum on her tits. Not only will it be a great view, but it will also keep her outfit clean.

You should now be staring at a raw, desperate, topless Wendy. Enjoy the view. Not many people get to watch an idol giving them a handjob with such fervor underneath them. Grasp at those lovely little breasts with both hands while she strokes you. She deserves that much, at least. Watch as the muscles in her biceps flex and extend with each jerk of your cock in her tiny hands. Feel it in her soft breasts, how they jiggle lightly in your grasp.

You should feel a tingling sensation, cock throbbing, almost there, almost ready to dump your load all over Wendy. Tell her. “I’m almost there Wendy, just a little more.” She might look at the clock on the wall for a quick check, but she’ll definitely stroke faster, grip tighter, maybe even throw out some encouragement of her own to move you along.

Reward her again for being so skilled with her hands: play with Wendy’s perfect burnt-almond colored nipples. Titillate her tits. Hear her moans when you pinch those little nubs that will be getting hard with arousal. Feel her abs clench underneath you, every curve and crevice throbbing against the underside of your balls. This will encourage her to stroke faster until you hit your breaking point.

Give her a sign that you’re about to cum so she can prepare for it. You’re a gentleman, after all. It can be as subtle as tightening your straddle against her hips, or as blatant as moaning out, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” If you’re feeling extra frisky, you may even do both.

“Right here,” she will remind you, taking one hand off your shaft to caress her hard-earned abs, showing you exactly where she wants it. You must be careful to cum only where she instructs you to cum, or there may be no next time.

Quicken your breathing. Make sure Wendy doesn’t let go of your cock. Watch as her continued stroking results in blasting her stomach with globs of your cum. Groan if you’d like, she’ll consider it as positive feedback. If she’s done a great job, you may notice cum shooting as far as her tits, which isn’t exactly her abs like she directed, but this is why you pull her top off her chest.

Unmount her when she’s drained you completely and admire the work. You are the paint, she is the artist and the canvas. There will be aqueducts of white filling in the crevices of her abs, gutters of cum flowing down her sides and letting the excess drip onto the couch.

She will not be able to get up without the risk of your cum sliding down her stomach and onto her pants. So because you’re a gentleman, you’ll hand her a towel so that she can wipe herself off. She’ll get most of it, enough to finally sit up and slip back into her top. If you’ve timed it right, she should have no more than a minute to spare.

“You’re welcome,” you’ll say.

Wendy will be the first to leave her dressing room. “I’ll text you,” she’ll say. Wendy will be too much in a hurry to care that there are still shiny remnants of your cum shimmering on her abdomen. This is fine. If she’s lucky, she can play it off as oil, an “artistic choice”, should anyone ask. “Sex sells in this industry,” she’ll say.