The Secret of Her Skincare

The heavy, rhythmic thumping of the bass vibrated through the floorboards of the apartment, sending a steady, intoxicating pulse up through the soles of Y/N’s boots. It was half past midnight, and the living room was a chaotic, beautiful collision of warm amber string lights, spilled laughter, and the sharp, sweet scent of melon liqueur mixed with expensive vanilla perfume.

At 188 centimeters and ninety kilograms of solid muscle, Y/N stood near the edge of the kitchen island, looking like a broad, sturdy anchor in the middle of a swirling storm of twenty-something energy. He had dressed down slightly for the occasion, wearing a crisp, fitted white dress shirt tucked loosely into a pair of dark wash jeans. The sleeves were rolled up past his forearms, displaying the dense veins tracking over his skin, and his loose, dark tie hung carelessly around his neck, utterly ruined from the dancing earlier in the evening. His brown eyes scanned the crowded room, a slow, deeply contented smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Across the room, the center of gravity revolved entirely around two women.

His girlfriend, Chaeryeong, was moving to the rhythm with an effortless, liquid grace that never failed to make his throat go completely dry. She was petite—165 centimeters and just forty-five kilograms—but her presence commanded the space. She wore a white baseball jersey, cropped criminally high to expose a sliver of her tight, flat stomach and the tight white top she wore underneath. The jersey featured bright blue details along the sleeves and a large, dark blue letter across her chest that stretched tantalizingly over her small, firm breasts. Her light blue denim trousers hugged her hips, highlighting the sharp curve of her waist. Her long, straight, black hair fell over her shoulders like a sheet of pure silk, catching the dim overhead light every time she tossed her head back to laugh.

Beside her was the guest of honor: her best friend, Ryujin.

If Chaeryeong was smooth, elegant temptation, Ryujin was a firecracker of infectious, mischievous energy. The twenty-three-year-old birthday girl was a little shorter at 163 centimeters, her gorgeous curves wrapped in tight blue jeans and a snug white short-sleeved t-shirt that stretched over her medium B-cup breasts. Slung over her right shoulder and crossing her chest was a shimmering, golden sash that proudly proclaimed Birthday Girl in bold cursive lettering. But the most endearing part of her outfit was perched atop her shoulder-length, slightly wavy light brown hair: a ridiculously cute, sparkling headband designed to look like a tiny birthday cake with candles sticking out of it.

Ryujin twirled around, bumping her hips playfully against Chaeryeong. The two of them collapsed into a fit of breathless giggles. Standing around them in a loose circle were Lia, Yuna, and Yeji, cheering with plastic cups held high.

"If you drink that entire glass, Yeji, you're sleeping in the bathtub!" Ryujin shouted over the music, her dark black eyes crinkling at the corners with unfiltered joy.

"You can't threaten me on your birthday, Shin Ryujin! It's against the law!" Yeji shouted back, taking a defiant sip.

Chaeryeong turned her head, her black-grey eyes locking across the room onto Y/N. A secretive, utterly sinful smirk crossed her lips, and she gave him a subtle wink before turning back to Ryujin. Throughout the night, Ryujin had been glancing over at Y/N as well, flashing him brilliant, beaming smiles. Y/N felt a deep, genuine warmth swelling in his chest. He was just genuinely happy. He loved seeing his beautiful girlfriend so uninhibited and joyful, and he was thrilled that her best friend was having the night of her life.

Ryujin grabbed Chaeryeong by the sleeve of her baseball jersey, tugging her slightly. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Chaeryeong’s ear to be heard over the pounding baseline of a new R&B track.

"Chae," Ryujin whispered, her voice adopting a sudden, dramatic urgency. "Emergency. I need a secret girlstalk. Now. Come with me."

Chaeryeong blinked, looking at Ryujin's suddenly intensely serious expression. "What? Right now? The pizza is going to arrive in ten minutes."

"Fuck the pizza," Ryujin hissed playfully, pulling Chaeryeong by the wrist through the crowd. "This is a birthday emergency of the highest order."

Y/N watched the two women disappear down the hallway toward the master bathroom, leaving a trail of giggles in their wake. He merely chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. Whatever complicated, intricate machinations they were discussing, it wasn't his business. Little did he know, he was the absolute center of it.

***

The bathroom door clicked shut, the heavy wooden frame instantly cutting out the majority of the pulsing party noise. The sudden quiet was heavy, filled only with the faint hum of the fluorescent lights and the hum of the ventilation fan. The stark, white light illuminated the two women perfectly in the large vanity mirror.

Chaeryeong leaned against the marble sink, crossing her arms over her chest, the blue lettering on her jersey shifting with the movement. "Alright, birthday girl. We're alone. Did your sash rip, or are you just trying to avoid Yuna trying to make you take another tequila shot?"

Ryujin stood near the locked door, biting her lower lip. Her black eyes darted away from Chaeryeong, looking suddenly incredibly shy. The contrast between the bubbly, boisterous girl on the dance floor and the currently nervous wreck in front of the door was stark. She stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch Chaeryeong’s cheek with the pads of her fingers.

"Your skin," Ryujin breathed softly. "It’s always so... impossibly perfect, Chae. It's glowing. It's soft, there isn't a single blemish, and it’s been like this for months. Ever since..."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Ever since what? I bought that ridiculously expensive hydrating serum from Gangnam? I told you, you just have to apply it twice a day, dummy."

Ryujin shook her head, dropping her hand. She took a deep breath, her chest rising against the tight white cotton of her shirt. "No. Not the serum. I've used the serum. It doesn't do that. I know exactly why your skin looks like a porcelain doll's, Chaeryeong."

"Enlighten me, then, oh wise one," Chaeryeong countered, leaning back on her hands, exposing a bit more of the flat stretch of her belly.

Ryujin stepped so close she could feel the heat radiating from Chaeryeong's skin. The scent of sweet strawberries from Ryujin's lip gloss mingled with Chaeryeong’s vanilla perfume. The air in the bathroom suddenly felt impossibly thick.

"It's Y/N," Ryujin whispered softly. "More specifically... it's Y/N's cum, isn't it? That’s your special skincare routine. His special cream."

A hot, scarlet flush rushed up Chaeryeong’s neck, blooming brightly on her cheeks. She choked on a sudden laugh, her eyes going wide. "Ryujin! What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't lie to me!" Ryujin whined, stamping her foot playfully but keeping her voice hushed. "We've been best friends since high school, I know when you're keeping a secret. I’ve heard the way you guys sound when I stay over. I know he paints your face, Chae. I know he completely covers you in it. And look at the results!" Ryujin gestured frantically at Chaeryeong's perfectly clear, luminous complexion.

Chaeryeong bit the inside of her cheek, trying and failing to hide a tremendously filthy smirk. She slowly ran a hand through her long black hair. "Okay. Fine. He... he might aim high. Sometimes. Quite often, actually."

Ryujin’s black eyes went impossibly round, pleading, glistening under the bright bathroom lights. She stepped into Chaeryeong’s personal space, taking both of Chaeryeong's smaller hands into her own, giving them a desperate squeeze.

"Chae. It’s my twenty-third birthday. I want a gift."

Chaeryeong's smile faltered slightly as realization began to slowly, shockingly dawn on her. The air in the cramped, sterile bathroom grew heavy with a new, dangerous tension. "Ryujin... no. Tell me you aren't asking what I think you're asking."

"Please?" Ryujin begged, her voice dropping into an unbearably sweet, incredibly manipulative pout. She leaned forward, pushing her face close. Her dark eyes were pools of puppy-dog sorrow, looking up from beneath long lashes. The little cake headband tilted comically to the side. "I just want one session, Chae. One application of his special cream. I want him to cover my face. Just this once, as my ultimate birthday gift."

Chaeryeong pulled her hands away, stepping sideways along the vanity counter. Her heart was suddenly hammering a frantic, wild rhythm against her ribs. "Are you absolutely insane? That's my boyfriend, Ryujin! You want to take my boyfriend's cum on your face? How would we even do that? Y/N would freak out, he’s hopelessly devoted to me."

"I know he is!" Ryujin agreed rapidly, closing the distance again, a desperate heat radiating from her. "That's the point, it wouldn't mean anything emotional! It’s strictly... biological! You promised me you would do anything for my birthday, Chae. You promised me just this morning!"

"I meant I'd buy you that Balenciaga bag you couldn't afford, not let you milk my man for facial moisturizer!" Chaeryeong hissed back, a sharp laugh escaping her throat despite the absurdity of the situation.

Ryujin put her hands together in a prayer motion, her pout deepening until she looked like she might genuinely cry. "Chae, please. Please, please, please. Look at me." Ryujin tilted her head, giving the absolute maximum output of cute, devastatingly endearing puppy eyes. "Best friend to best friend. Just a facial. I won't ever ask for anything else as long as I live. Please."

Chaeryeong stared into her best friend’s wide, pleading black eyes. A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the sound of Chaeryeong’s sharp, shallow breaths. An odd, completely foreign thrill began to curl deep in Chaeryeong’s lower stomach. The idea was completely taboo. Utterly filthy. To let her beautiful, innocent-looking best friend kneel down and worship her man's heavy, thick cock until he ruined her pretty makeup? The mental image alone sent a sudden, hot flash of wetness straight to Chaeryeong’s panties.

She swallowed hard. Her black-grey eyes darkened considerably. The playful, casual atmosphere had completely vanished, replaced by a thick, heavy, explicitly mature sexual tension.

"You're out of your mind," Chaeryeong breathed, her voice lowering an octave, losing all its previous lightness.

"So you'll do it?" Ryujin gasped softly, her expression lighting up with ravenous anticipation.

Chaeryeong held up a single, perfectly manicured finger. Her expression turned entirely merciless. The supportive best friend melted away, leaving a strictly territorial woman laying down the law. "If we do this. And that is a massive if. It happens under my direct supervision, and under my exact, uncompromising rules. Do you understand me, Shin Ryujin?"

Ryujin nodded vigorously, her birthday cake headband bobbing frantically. "Yes! Yes, anything! Tell me the rules."

Chaeryeong leaned forward, her face mere inches from Ryujin’s, her voice a deadly, low purr that echoed off the sterile tiles.

"Rule number one," Chaeryeong dictated, her black-grey eyes boring into Ryujin’s soul. "You are allowed to lick it. You are allowed to suck it. You are allowed to rub his cock with your hands. But you do absolutely not, under any circumstances, try to straddle him or take him inside of you."

Ryujin paused, a playful glint in her eyes. "Not even a little riding? Just to get him warmed up? Just the tip?"

"No." Chaeryeong snapped instantly, the command ringing out sharp and final. She poked Ryujin hard in the chest. "No fucking riding. Not even a millimeter. His cock belongs completely, unconditionally, only inside of my cunt. If you try to slip him inside you, or if you don't play strictly by my rules, you don't get the facial at all. The party ends right there. Understand?"

The sheer, venomous territoriality in Chaeryeong’s tone sent a shiver straight down Ryujin’s spine. She immediately understood the absolute boundary. "Understood. Hands and mouth only. His cunt privileges belong only to the queen."

"Damn right they do," Chaeryeong murmured, her chest rising heavily. "Rule number two. You work his cock until he comes. The absolute second he starts to climax, you pull your pretty little mouth and your hands entirely away from him."

"Why?" Ryujin asked, clearly slightly confused. "Wouldn't you want me to milk him completely empty with my lips?"

"Rule number three," Chaeryeong said, ignoring the question. "You do not swallow a single, solitary drop of his cum. Do you understand me? You don't eat it. You let it completely cover your skin. Every single drop is reserved exclusively for your face. If you ingest it, you waste the skincare."