Poor in spirit

You loved dinner dates like these: live lounge music, great food that actually used all the utensils set down, just the right amount of air conditioning for a three piece suit, and a pretty girl on the other side of the table.

“Aishhh–,” Minjeong sighed, scraping the silver fork on the porcelain with a faint screech. You felt your neck hairs raise, and your chest gurgle.

This dinner date was not turning out to be one of those.

You twiddled your thumbs, actively resisting the instinct to grab for your phone and doomscroll – or more specifically, to escape this awkward situation by burying your face in your screen. Then again, that would be more entertaining than Minjeong.

Minjeong. The name lacked the gravitas it ought to have shared with the bone-snapping cold scowl fastened to her face. “Winter” was the codename your friend who set you up gave; perhaps that was more apt. All the same, there she sat in a beautiful dress, hair done up in curls with jagged strands streaked down her sides, and still very much scowling at her phone.

“I like your dress,” you said idly, “it matches your skin.”

“Is that supposed to be flattering?” she said bluntly.

“You’re not giving me much else to work with, Minjeong.”

She plopped her phone down on the table halfway between a toss and a slam. For the first time the entire night, her eyes burned holes into your retinas.

“Getting close to the realization, Sherlock?,” she scoffed. “I’d like to think I’ve been very transparent tonight.”

“Minjeong–”

“Stop calling me by my name like you know me,” she growled, hand slapping the table, “especially if it took you this long to realize anything.”

You’ll take that hit with brutal honesty.

I mean, who enters into a blind date expecting bad faith? All your friend told you was a date, a place, and a codename for the both of you to say. Who would think that a drop-dead gorgeous beauty, dressed up for the occasion in a body-flattering dress and a delicate hairdo, did it all out of anything less than interest?

And alright, perhaps the order of just a caesar salad and wine – now only half-consumed and set dressing to the proverbial dumpster fire this date had become – does give off I-really-want-this-to-end-sooner vibes. But you’ve seen ladies at this price point order less and eat much less, and you weren’t about to assume the worst in someone you just met.

So much for that.

“Indulge me then–”

“I really wouldn’t.”

“–who put you up to this?”

Minjeong rolled her eyes. “No one. I choose to go on blind dates when I feel like it.”

You threw your hands in the air. “So why go on them if you’re gonna be so bitchy about it?”

She looked away. “Nothing ‘bitchy’ about this, you pretentious prick. 'Bitchy’ would assume I’m whining. I talk down because I know what I deserve. And this? This isn’t it.”

Forget wanting the date to end sooner; the date had ended the minute she walked into the resto.

“Fine then. Wanna end this? You’re free to go. I’ll pay for your shit and eat your food.”

She shot you a dirty look. “Gross, why would you eat someone else’s food?”

“To not waste it? It’s not like you’d touched it with your feet or something.”

She threw her fork down and leaned on the chair, watching your words with beady eyes. “If you think scarfing down food just because it’s there is etiquette, then you’re about as uncultured as I thought you to be.”

“Excuse me?” You felt your fists ball up with the table cloth caught in your grasp.

“You heard me. This restaurant? Nobody goes here anymore after the head chef got caught using Alaskan salmon instead of Norwegian last month. And your tux? Not a single stitch on the shoulders, which definitely means you haven’t had that store-bought rag altered to be close to passably decent. I’d rather be caught drunk in a club toilet than with someone who looks like he can’t buy me the clothes I wear on a night out with a year’s salary.”

Your head felt dizzy, and your chest started to burn all the way up your neck. Your stomach churned, part hunger and part anger. Even the toes in your shoes curled, using every muscle fiber you had to contain it all. But Minjeong just flapped her mouth.

“I’ve been on dates with guys that were either taller, more muscular, or had better style than you. And what are you, a regional manager? I’ve gone on dates with CEOs, stock brokers, top real estate agents, and a fucking racecar driver.”

She leaned over the table, her eyebrows furrowed. “And I bedded every single one.”

A part of you winced without meaning to. “Congratulations, do you want a fucking medal?”

“Don’t act so magnanimous. You men are all the same,” she scoffed. “You think you see a hot girl in a nice dress for the first time and you’ll think out some master plan to fuck me senseless, without even putting out so much as a few drops of cum before I’ve even wet myself.”

Minjeong stood up. “And you? You look nothing like the ones who’d gotten even halfway close.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted something to punch, or throw, or grab; was it gonna be the table? Your chair? Her? With all the anger bursting at the seems, you… laughed. Chuckling to yourself, shit-eating grin strewn across your face. It wasn’t a crack in your sanity; it was the satisfaction of realizing something, which to confirm you needed to be more… investigative.

“Bet they had tiny dicks then.”

Minjeong froze, her scowl surprisingly softening, but contorting into a look of disgust. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You heard me. How big were they? Four inches? Three?”

She sat back down, hunched over the table. Bingo.

“You disgusting pig. You can’t ask me questions like that.”

“Why? You pride yourself in the men you’ve taken, surely you couldn’t be all that disappointed in how they dicked you down.”

“They didn’t 'dick me down’ you pervert,” she blurted, slamming a fist on the table with clinks of silverware. “I gave them the best blowjob, or the best handjob, or the best riding of their fucking lives. It-it had to be if they–”

“No wait,” you snapped your fingers. “Blowjobs, right? Maybe it was the smell then. God, some boys really don’t know how to wash themselves down there, don’t they?”

“You know, I just realized you’d completely finished your plate already,” Minjeong scrambled to look for something to target. “You should eat more to shut your–”

“Hey, that’s perfectly understandable. Maybe you’d defend them this way if they ate you out well. Was it the racecar driver? I hear they have great breath control.”

Minjeong hunched her shoulders. “Stop.”

“I got it,” you scoffed, loudly clapping your hands, “they didn’t touch you. Or play with your clit. Finger you. Eat you out. Make you finish.”

Minjeong scowl started to melt. “You’re sick,” she said, eyes starting to water.

“Why is that sick? I’m not sick,” you mocked. “Nothing wrong about talking about your evidently shit sex life and your disappointment in men who don’t know how to make you squirt.”

Minjeong stared, a single tear falling down her face. Time for the coup de grace.

“Minjeong, you’re a spoiled little brat. You think you’re so much better than all the boys you’ve met before. But me? I’m no loser who creams at the sight of ankles.”

You got up, walked behind her, and whispered in her ear, “I know what a real man would do to a woman like you.”

And finally, after the onslaught of words, Minjeong sat there doused with a healthy helping of… something. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But it was there, like a glass had been shattered.

You planted a kiss on her neck, and the whole castle of ice came crashing down. She moaned a bit too audibly, covering her mouth with both hands, as you walked back to your seat to call for the bill. There she sat, still looking at you with glistening eyes, rosy cheeks peering past her makeshift walls of fingers. But you knew better than to take that mask at face value; she was broken. Or rather, she wasn’t broken enough.

You sat back down, took her half eaten plate of salad and glass of wine, consumed it all in approximately 3 spoonfuls and 23 seconds – “need this for later ” – and after dropping a clearly too hefty wad of cash, stood up.

This was the moment of truth. If your earlier hypothesis was indeed right, Minjeong wasn’t so much bitchy as she was a disappointed, cock-starved brat having a hanger tantrum she couldn’t control. If she was, she’d take the hand you were going to offer and walk out with you. If not, she’d choose to be destitute and alone, allowing you to walk away after absolutely harassing her (which, if that were the case, you better pray this wasn’t gonna be another lawsuit).

Instead, as you did, she slapped it away and, wrapping a shawl she had stashed in her purse around the bottom of her face, she glared at you with angry eyes. “Not one word,” she commanded, and hooked an arm around yours as you walked out into the parking lot.

Of course, you’d do good not to do a victory lap; beating Minjeong at her game wasn’t your motive. But in the way she grasped your arm, massaging the few lean muscles you had, you could tell there was some sense of anticipation in the air, a burning desire that radiated from her cold, dainty hands. More so than proving yourself right, you wanted to give her a night she wouldn’t forget.

When you got to the car, her tone had noticeably shifted as she looked curiously at your kitted out SLS AMG GT. You knew this was more modest given the Astons and Ferraris that usually occupy the streets in this neighborhood – and Minjeong’s life, at its lowest points probably – but she surprisingly knew to spot quality love at a glance.

She eyed the mags, the brake pads, the springs. “Did you–”

“Yeah, cool that you noticed,” you nodded. “I take this out on the weekends. Used to go with a few buddies up the mountain roads, but– ahh, they’re busy, that lot.”

She ran a hand over the hood. “This is… the original finish.”

“And hella expensive,” you remarked. “I’m sure a princess like you knows which carriages are expensive, and this isn’t one of them. But it’s more fun to make the simple shit insanely more expensive.” She opened the door to find–

“This is good leather,” she breathed. “You could’ve just bought something else with how much you dumped on this car alone.”

“And spend a double amount on those too? Like I said,” you hopped in, patting the seat, “wouldn’t be fun to have it then.”

The minute she closed the door, you revved the engine and drove out into the night at speeds just shy of breakneck. Minjeong leaned back heavy, her breathing escalating, before cracking out a faint, thrilled chuckle.

“There she is,” you coaxed. “You’re pretty when you smile, you know.”

She hid behind shawl again, furrowing her eyebrows. “Ahem. This car is… admittedly very nice. But I’ve seen better.”

“I’m sure. And did the guys who drove them have fun in them?”

“What’s fun got to do with anything?,” she scoffed. “They’re icons. They’re not meant to be enjoyed. You have them and you use them, and if they break then you just get another one.”

“If the guys you date trash top of the line Vipers once a month, I’m inclined to think those fuckers don’t know how to take care of anything. No wonder you’re so disappointed in them.” A single quiet smirk from Minjeong.

Silence again, for a longer while. The sound system automatically picked up your bluetooth, but you kept the volume low.

“Icons, huh? Is that what you are to those guys? A badge of honor that they came on your hands?”

She paused again. “Do you… know anything about me?”

“You? How the hell would I not?,” you exclaimed. “You think I didn’t know your net worth is more than this car here – which is already basically equal to my own?” She smiled again. Something about knowing her superiority definitely made her tick.

“Y-you’re right, okay?,” she whispered. “Sometimes I tell myself to keep going on these dates looking for someone who meets my expectations of who would actually treat me right. But it’s not easy. Some guys just really are…”

“Pigs?,” you interrupted. “Slobs? All bark and no lick?”

“Stop,” she rolled her eyes. “But… yeah. No one’s been more real than you.”

“I know it, baby,” you smirked. “That’s why I’m confident enough to do what I’m doing.”

“Then I’m sure you realize the risks of what you’re going to do tonight,” she warned.

“Of course,” you chimed. “Somewhat. Maybe not 100%, but 99%. Or well, 90%. Honestly, the attitude threw off my expectations real quick.”

She scoffed, looking out at the lights whizzing past. “Then you’re actually the first guy to get the fucking hint then. Most guys just carrel me into their cars, take me home for their version of a good night, and I call a driver to where I’m at by the time they’ve finished washing themselves down.”

“Do you think I’m going to do that?”

“I– I don’t know,” she shrugged, shooting you a dirty look again. “You better not have wasted my fucking time. And my benefit of the doubt.”

“Then don’t worry, because I’m going to do exactly everything I said a while ago.” You saw her legs squirm shut, and you placed a hand on her thigh, almost wrapping around the top half of her thin frame easily. “By tonight I’ll make you feel my name etched in your throat from screaming it.”

She gasped, looking at you with terrified eyes. You let go tentatively. “Has no one ever touched you in the car before?” She shook her head.

“Do you want me to?” She hesitated, then nodded.

You ran her dress up as she adjusted her position, her legs now opened to a clear point of entry for your touch. You massaged your thumb on her thigh, rubbing against a single lip on what felt like very delicate lingerie.

“Ooh, this feels expensive. Guess I’m gonna have to tease you if I can’t take these off properly.” You proceeded to press into her slit, hooking up to meet her clit.

Minjeong’s moan was instantaneous, and she held up both hands to mask her pleasure. “You don’t have to, Minjeong. It’s okay. No one in the car but you and me. Let it out.”

In an instant, her hands came down, gripping the chair and the door instead, face contorted into a look already so close to release. You felt with every twitch and convulsion just how much orgasm was still locked into her bones, like she’d been touch starved for… months, it seems.

You tried your best to move the panties off to the side, desperate to feel her around your fingers, but no dice. The fabric fit exactly on her, and while it allowed you to feel all the bumps and folds you needed to, it also did as much to prevent you from going in deeper.

“Do you want more?,” you asked. No response. You decided to gauge what that meant: you gently held Minjeong’s face and pointed it at yours, then brought your fingers up to your nose and sniffed hard. You could smell everything – the care, the lack of touch, the tenderness and juiciness, the raw, untamed power behind it. You grabbed Minjeong’s hand, and moved it over your slacks; you were rock hard, hard enough that it actually distracted you from driving.

“Feel that, princess? You drive me crazy,” you growled. “And I would like some more, but you need to remove your panties for me.”

She shuffled around in the corner of your eye, your focus now on the road. Without warning, Minjeong grabbed your mouth and shoved her panties in your mouth.

“You wanna be freaky so bad?,” she hissed. “Taste me.”

There must be some witch magic infused in these high-end underwear, because you’ve never tasted pussy this good. It wasn’t sour nor pungent, not salty nor prickly to the tongue. It tasted like an exotic fruit you couldn’t wait to bite into.

You took it out of your mouth briefly to quip back to Minjeong. “You think this is a power play?,” you continued, “watch this.” You put it back to your nose and sniffed just as hard, before putting it back into your mouth and moaned hard (half theatrics, half serious). Minjeong moaned in reply as she spread her lips open, eagerly waiting for your touch.

You spat out her panties. Now the games can begin.

You moved your fingers gingerly along her lips, pressing down to squeeze any slick that had pooled around her folds. There was enough, and you replaced the panties in your mouth with your fingers. You felt your head go light from unbearable pleasure; your cock throbbed, aching to enter those caverns you could only visualize in your head as you stared into the darkness ahead. GPS reported 6 more minutes to your house – just a little bit longer.

You repeated the process twice more. With each one, Minjeong whined harder, her biting her lip down visible in the mirror, so hard you feared she’d cut into them.

“You fucking tease,” she groaned. “Fuck, please, give me more. I swear, I’m gonna– mmmh!,” she moaned, as you flicked her dripping clit.

One last experiment then: you moved your hand to the side of her face, rubbing a thumb on her cheek and her lip, before gently moving it down to her neck and squeezing. Minjeong yelped and gasped, slightly panicked. You let go, checking on her breathing.

“Sorry,” you blurted, “just experimenting.”

Before you could remove your hand, she brought it back to her neck. “Not so hard, please,” she whispered, and you continued to lightly suffocate her. You pressed your hand down on her throat, not with force but enough to close her windpipe, for just less than 3 seconds at a time. She’d gasp for air, clawing at your arms, but not ever pulling it away. Her breathing was labored, but not struggling. God, this woman was freaky, begging to be folded in half on a good mattress.

“One last, princess,” you warned, finally fully submerging a finger into her core. Minjeong let out a chesty groan, so loud it made your ears ring. And fuck, was she tight; you felt inserting another finger might rip her hips open, and you were no sadist. In you drilled around, scratching upwards to feel every bump in her. As you eased back and forth, thrusting up to your knuckle, she whined with every full length she took. You even slammed it in for good measure, and yelp she did.

You finally got to your driveway, car braked as you got off. While Minjeong fumbled for her seatbelt, you reappeared on the other side, freeing her and swooping her in your arms. She was light enough that as you did, she giggled, kicking her legs. “Wait, my shoes! And my panties!”

You kicked the door open and, still visible to the world, you pinned Minjeong to the wall and made out with her ravenously. Your lips crashed, sloppy and slippery, barely landing perfectly anymore with how hungry you were for her body and how hungry she was for your cock. Hands trembled and frantically clawed at pieces of clothing, arms in a frenzy to dig into raw skin. At some point, you were both doing it yourselves, at a consensus to not fight each other but to work faster.

When your lips finally parted, you looked at her fully naked frame: petite, curvy, and absurdly white under the darkness of night. You slammed the door shut and plunged yourselves in darkness once more.

When you both dove in once again, Minjeong lifted a leg, and you held it up. Your cock throbbed firmly against her womb, balls starting to get drenched in the juices leaking from her folds. You carried her by the other leg, her entire body now fully in the air. You dropped her onto your bare dining table, splaying her open, and you plunged your face into her folds. At the first contact of your tongue and her clit, her legs locked around your neck, thighs squeezed around your head, though doing very little to wrestle control away from you.

“Oh fff–,” she tried to say, her speech overridden by each lash your tongue made on her core. Her fingers clawed at the lips of your table, her forearms visibly flexed as she fought against her own pleasure. You surfaced and gave her a moment of reprieve, giving her a sharp reminder of your presence by spitting on her folds. Every movement, every action you did seemed to make her twitch, or gag, or any reaction between shock and awe.

“You’re so wet,” you hissed again, mouth drenched in a slurry of squirt and saliva. Minjeong grabbed your hair and shoved your face in again, hungrily chasing after her orgasm. You’ll let her have her control, for now.

“Oh fuck, oh fff–” she kept whining, over and over again, like it was the only words left in her vocabulary. And it was energizing, having the formerly whiny brat now be your whiny brat on the bed (or, for now, the table).

You slid in one finger, struggling to push two in. You did a more able repeat of your motions in the car, rubbing and slamming your hand into her hips. Combined with your tongue, Minjeong’s faculties completely collapsed: mouth completely muted, body completely frozen.

You sensed her orgasm coming soon, and you gently squeezed in a second finger. Minjeong let out a single, raspy gasp, her flat abdomen now trembling and folding as you tunneled your way into her. As you started to drill your fingers in and out – gently as you could against the clamping of her walls – her legs started to wrap tightly against your neck. Though you felt your vision start to blur, you powered through, until her body let out one final jolt.

For an explosive orgasm like Minjeong’s, she did well to keep it muted and contained. It did very little to mask it; you felt everything tighten up, stiffen, and rattle violently. She flailed her arms and legs wildly as you lapped up as much of her release, a thick sludge that coated every part of your lips and mouth.

And you wanted seconds.

Minjeong pushed your head away, but you charged through. “Wha-what are you doing? Stop! I’m so– mmmh! Fuck! You're– I’m so– fuck that’s good! Fuck!”

As you let her filthy mouth betray her hesitations, you kept at it, gripping her legs even more tightly, wrestling with her desperate squirming.

“Fuck, hold me like that, please– fuck! Your tongue is so fucking good!”

You looked up at her and growled. “Look at me, princess.” You stared her down with furrowed brows as you sucked on her swollen clit, and Minjeong couldn’t even hold that look for more than a few seconds before throwing her head back.

You put in two fingers again, not to drill but to flick aggressively her folds. Minjeong’s squeals escalated in pitch, so high it made your ears ring and the walls echo. You weren’t gonna let her go until you had your fill.

Minjeong’s squirt came in seconds. You weren’t even ready for it – you got sprayed in the face without warning. The freak in you didn’t hesitate to look stupid trying to open your mouth for little droplets that went everywhere else, but you savored it just as much. Because fuck, whatever personal care Minjeong had been doing to herself made her taste divine.

You patted her pussy lips, making her calm down but whine aggressively. Weakly, she propped herself on her elbows to stare you down. “Don’t you fucking do that again.”

“Which one? The making-you-squirt part?”

“The slapping-my-pussy part,” she growled.

“Did you say 'again’?,” you smirked.

She smirked alongside you. “You think I’m gonna let you go after being the best fuck of my life?” She got off the table, legs still trembling but walking towards the sofa.

“I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Yet,” she said, hooking a leg on the back of the sofa, exposing her wet folds.

You licked your fingers one by one, walking towards her and undoing your slacks. Minjeong bit her tongue the whole time, expectant and excited. “You’re so seductive, it’s stupid,” she rolled her eyes.

“Only the real ones know to put on a show,” you said, slowly easing your already stiff cock into her. “Especially for you, Minjeong.”

She gasped as you entered her warmth, parting it easily. Just as earlier, she let out a silent squeal, eyes rolled up as you overwhelmed her senses.

“Fuck, you’re so big!,” she whined. “Oh fuck!”

You felt your vision blur as your cock was massaged by every muscle in Minjeong’s tight snatch. You could barely move it, yet every buck of your hip or shuffle of your legs made her body shake.

“Fuck, it-it hurts!”

You let go of her instantly, forcing yourself to pull out no matter the sensation. You looked at her dead in the eyes, mascara starting to smudge ever so slightly.

“Are you okay, princess?,” you asked, fixing her hair and rubbing her back as you hugged her.

“D-don’t act so fucking nice,” she whined harder. “It’s weird.”

“Minjeong,” you whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to have a good time. Haven’t I proven that already?”

She kept quiet.

You walked her to your room, holding her by the wrist. You let her lie on the bed, crawling on top of her.

“If you’ll keep me,” you heaved, “we’re equals on the bed. If you won’t use me, I won’t use you.”

She grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a deep kiss. She hungrily sought your tongue, digging into your cheeks and rubbing the roof of your mouth. She furrowed her brows when she let you go. “Your dick is too big for you to be this nice.”

“That’s not true,” you laughed. “It’s not like I swing this thing into every bar I go to.”

“Do you not sleep with other women?,” she asked.

“Not for a while,” you answered. “I wouldn’t mind keeping this hole just for me though.”

Her cheeks flushed red. “It’s not fair I can’t take your cock.”

“Then it means we’re going too fast,” you corrected. “Tell me what else you want.”

“I–,” she hesitated.

“I could eat you out again,” you smiled, and she smirked at the thought.

“Mmmh, no,” she muttered. “I can take it. Just… be gentle, please.”

Minjeong commanding was a whole different beast than Minjeong requesting. She was less cold, softer, loose.

You lined up your tip with her lips, rubbing it like you assumed she would a toy. Her face gave away the confirmation before it even left her lips.

“Y-you’re such a fucking – mmmh – tease,” Minjeong yelped.

You inched it in slowly, starting with your swollen tip until all of it went in. You pushed in gently, retreating and easing in slow turns. Even without her taking you in, you rubbed against her walls as if you were already fucking her deep.

“Minjeong,” you whispered, her face still soured as she took you in inches. You felt again her walls too tight to move, and you leaned in closer.

“Minjeong,” you repeated. “You take me so well.”

“Stop patronizing me,” she snarled behind gritted teeth.

“I’m not,” you said, pulling her in for a much slower, sensual kiss. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Stop it,” she continued, eyes watering.

“No,” you replied sternly. “Let it out.”

In an instant, Minjeong collapsed entirely – not physically from your cock now halfway through, but emotionally, from what you could only assume was her cumulative overstimulation.

“Why are you babying me?!,” she blubbered. “I can take it!”

“Stop,” you said slowly pulling away from her core. She tried to hold you from moving away, but you pinned her arms to the bed.

“You needy brat,” you growled back. “I’m not saying you can’t take it. But don’t fuck me because you wanna prove you can beat me. Take me because you want a good, deserved orgasm.”

“I’m not letting you beat me,” she muttered.

“You’ve cum twice already tonight and I haven’t,” you reassured. “Haven’t you won already?”

She broke down in tears as you pulled her into an embrace, rubbing her back and cradling her.

“You’re taking me well and you’re making me feel so good, more than any fuck I’ve had in years,” you said between kisses over her shoulders and neck. “This cock is yours. It’s not going anywhere. And it won’t be going anywhere because you’re doing great.”

She came down from her outburst and looked at you with puffy eyes. “I want you so bad… I need you so bad… in my life, inside me–”

“Then let’s cum together,” you resolved, slowly easing yourself back into her, much easier than before. You couldn’t help but moan from just how heavenly her pussy felt around your shaft. “F-fuck, Minjeong, you’re gonna make me cum soon.”

She grinned with determination, sliding you in all the way. You felt your tip hit a fleshy wall, and her lips pressed up on your pelvis.

Minjeong ground herself on you, swaying her hips side to side and in circles, an ordered chaos that made you gnash your teeth trying to not burst in an instant. That your first fuck with her brought you this close to the edge in minutes was already a humbling experience; that it was with her, this perfect specimen of a woman who needed just a little more tender love and care, made you thirst for release even more.

“Minjeong, I wanna cum,” you begged. “Please, I want to cum inside you.”

“You promised we’d cum together,” she hissed. “I’ll just have to… keep fucking you then.”

Somehow the thought of her draining another orgasm out of you was all the motivation you needed.

One spurt, then another, and another. You emptied yourself into her, making her grin in satisfaction as she pushed you to the bed, riding you with unrelenting energy.

Now it was your turn to be fucked senseless. You groaned and blubbered her name, writhing as she chased after your orgasm and hers. She was close, and you could feel it in how she gripped your shoulders.

“Cum for me,” you commanded.

“Say my name,” she hissed.

“Cum for me, Minjeong.”

“Louder.”

“Minjeong, you’re so fucking good, fuck–”

“Louder!”

“Minjeong– Minjeong, I’m gonna–”

“Yes, yes, yes–”

One more flash of white, one more flush of heat down your spine. You let everything left in your balls out, until you wrung them sore. Minjeong, again, twitched and writhed, her body now little more than a wet, convulsing mess of sweat and squirt. She collapsed on top of you, cock still in her, and as it slid out you felt a stream of juices dribble down your thighs.

“M-Minjeong,” you struggled, still catching your breath. You grabbed a box of tissues and tried your best to wipe her down; but, as you soon realized, she was down for the count, and it wasn’t long before your own exhaustion got the better of you.

You wiped down what you could, wrapped the sheets over the both of you, and cocooned yourself around her. She was warm, soft, and tranquil, and you let your body feel all of that as your eyes feel heavy over your view of her beautiful, gentle face.

When you awoke in the morning, Minjeong was still in your arms, soundly asleep. You heard the birds chirp outside the balcony railings; you heard the faint rumble of cars on asphalt in the distance. Under the sheets, just enough light bled through to illuminate.

You looked at her face and felt your chest hurt. Heavens above, she was beautiful. Not in a way that was seductive or sultry, but in her own simplicity and subtlety. And sure, she’d fucked you and you’d fucked her in ways neither of you were ready for.

But peeling back all the layers with all the force and destruction of last night, you found her: a woman in need of love. And you wanted her. You needed her. You wanted and needed her the way you could tell she did you.

You slowly planted your lips on hers, just as soft as the skin all around her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she greeted you with an equally tender kiss. And in an instant, it felt just like where you left off: a mess of lips and tongues, arms and legs slithering all over each other like you tried to coat yourselves in each other.

When you surfaced from your stupor, you laughed warmly.

“Told you I could show you real.”

She buried her face in your chest, snuggling you close.

“These pillows are terrible,” she whispered. “I’ll buy you nicer ones.”

“Does this mean we’re going on a second date?”

She looked up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You fucked me, made me cry, then fucked me till I came.”

You stared at her, confused, until she kissed your chin.

“Fuck the dates,” she beamed. “You’re mine.”

You smiled back.

“Say it,” she scowled.