"you make me feel good"

You Make Me Feel Good

The sultry heat of a clear summer evening hung over the vibrant streets of Berlin, a thick, intoxicating blanket of warm air that smelled faintly of hot asphalt, blooming linden trees, and distant rain. While the city above was bathed in the dimming hues of an amber sunset, the atmosphere below ground, tucked securely inside Y/N’s private, soundproofed basement studio, was a world entirely its own. The air conditioning hummed a soft, constant lullaby, maintaining a deliciously cool room temperature. Flickering amber LEDs cast a golden, candle-like glow across the expensive leather couches and high-tech mixing consoles, while shadows danced playfully against the acoustic foam on the walls. The air inside the studio smelled intensely inviting—a luxurious blend of melted candle wax from a sandalwood wick burning on a side table, the sharp, clean bite of fresh studio equipment, and the heavy, intoxicating floral perfume of the beautiful women occupying the room.

It was a highly anticipated, monumental day for the K-pop industry. The goal was to bridge divides, to overcome long-standing cultural and agency disputes through the universal language of music. And what better way to do so than to bring together two of the industry's most enchanting idols for an exclusive, highly secretive collaboration? Yiren Wang, the stunning twenty-three-year-old Chinese visual from Everglow, and Tzuyu Chou, the breathtaking twenty-five-year-old Taiwanese star from Twice, had been flown to Germany to record a crossover track cheekily titled, "Make Me Feel Good."

They were under the meticulous guidance of Y/N. At thirty years old, Y/N was a rapidly rising European producer known for his rigorous perfectionism. Standing an imposing 188 centimeters tall and weighing a solidly muscled 90 kilograms, Y/N possessed an intense, rugged allure. His short, thick black hair was slightly tousled, and his deep brown eyes held a sharp, observant weight that demanded absolute excellence. He was devastatingly handsome, radiating a natural, commanding masculine authority, yet he stood at a distinct disadvantage—he didn't understand a single word of Korean or Chinese.

Tzuyu had already finished recording her vocal parts with flawless precision. She stood near the mixing console, looking casually gorgeous, while Yiren, who had just arrived at the studio for her first face-to-face meeting with the formidable producer, took in the environment. Yiren looked incredibly alluring in a deliberately relaxed outfit: a stark white ribbed tank top adorned with a subtle, delicate butterfly motif that hugged her cute, perky A-cup breasts. A silver necklace with a tiny flower pendant rested perfectly against her smooth collarbone. She had paired the tight top with loose-fitting, bright pink sweatpants, and her long, straight black hair fell in glossy sheets loosely over her shoulders, shimmering under the studio’s golden light.

As Y/N adjusted the microphone levels, turning his broad, muscular back to the two idols, Tzuyu leaned in close to Yiren’s ear. A mischievous glint flashed in the Taiwanese singer's dark eyes as she initiated a secret whisper in rapid Mandarin—knowing full well that the towering European man twisting the knobs ahead of them couldn't decipher a single syllable.

"Y/N is fucking hot," Tzuyu whispered, her breath tickling Yiren’s ear, carrying the scent of sweet vanilla and mint.

Yiren pressed a hand to her mouth, an adorable, melodic giggle escaping her glossed lips as her dark, expressive eyes raked over the impressive width of Y/N’s broad shoulders and the thick muscles shifting beneath his dark t-shirt. "He really is incredibly handsome," Yiren whispered back, feeling a sudden, fluttery warmth bloom deep in her lower belly at the sight of him.

Tzuyu smirked playfully, her eyes darting to Y/N's strong profile before looking back at her friend. "He’s strict," Tzuyu added, her tone dropping into a sultry, teasing hush, "but in a very good way. He completely gives off that daddy vibe."

Yiren’s cheeks flushed a delicate, rosy pink, and she bit her lower lip to suppress another giggle, her imagination already running wild.

Suddenly, Y/N spun his chair around, catching the tail end of their giggles. His brown eyes narrowed slightly, though a polite, professional smile touched his lips. "Is everything alright, ladies? Are we ready for the next phase?"

Tzuyu immediately beamed her most charming idol smile. "Everything is perfect! It was so much fun working with you. I’m going to take a little break now."

Before Y/N could process the shift in energy, Tzuyu confidently stepped forward, pressing the soft, warm curves of her body right up against his solid, muscular chest. With fluid grace, she pulled out her phone, lifting it high to capture the moment. She leaned up and pressed her soft, glossed lips firmly against Y/N’s cheek, her eyes twinkling brightly for the camera as it snapped. She instantly posted the playful picture to her Instagram story, giving Y/N a cheerful wave as she moved toward the luxurious velvet couch in the corner of the room. "Have fun with your recording, Yiren!" Tzuyu chimed, settling into the cushions.

Y/N, slightly bewildered but determined to remain professional, cleared his throat and gestured toward the glass-encased vocal booth. "Alright, Yiren. You're up. Let's see what you can bring to the track."

Yiren nodded, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs as she slipped past him. As she did, her gaze inadvertently dropped, her dark eyes locking onto the crotch of his fitted jeans. There, undeniable and heavily pronounced, was a thick, heavy bulge resting lazily against the denim. The sheer size of it sent a sudden, electrical jolt of heat shooting straight to her core. Her breath hitched. A heavy flush of deep, liquid arousal pooled between her thighs. She was instantly, dripping wet, the slick heat soaking into her soft pink panties with embarrassing speed.

She stepped into the cool, silent isolation of the recording booth, slipping the heavy headphones over her ears. Through the thick glass, she had a perfect, unobstructed view of Y/N sitting at the console. She was supposed to focus on the lyrics, on pitch and melody, but her mind was completely highjacked. Every time she looked at his intense, focused expression, his strong jawline, and the thick veins corded along his muscular forearms, a single, invasive thought echoed in her mind: How impossibly good could he fuck me?

The music track started, the heavy bass thumping through her headphones.

"Take one," Y/N’s deep, velvety voice commanded through her earpiece, sending a shiver down her spine.

Yiren sang, but her voice faltered, cracking under the heavy, erotic tension suffocating her chest. She couldn't focus. Her nipples were tightly pebbled against her white ribbed tank top, acutely sensitive as she shifted on her feet, the friction of her wet, swollen slit rubbing against her panties driving her insane.

Take after take, she stumbled. She missed cues, her voice breathless and entirely off-key. Through the glass, she watched Y/N’s handsome features harden with growing irritation. He sighed, rubbing his temples, the strict German perfectionist bubbling to the surface. He finally hit the talkback button.

"Yiren, stop. Just stop," Y/N blurted out, his voice sharp with frustration, the commanding daddy vibe suddenly overwhelmingly apparent. "It was so easy and smooth with Tzuyu. What is going on? You need to calm your nerves and relax so this recording will finally work."

The bluntness of his reprimand stung slightly, but oddly enough, the authoritative sternness in his tone only made her wetter. Her core throbbed with a heavy, rhythmic ache. She stood in the silent booth, panting softly, feeling the hot slickness trickling down her inner thighs. The sensual friction of the ribbed tank top against her hard nipples, the scent of the studio's sweet vanilla mixed with the primal musk of her own arousal—it all pushed her over the edge. In that breathless moment, a shockingly slutty idea bloomed in her desperate, feverish mind. She needed to calm him down, and she desperately needed to relax herself.

Yiren took off the headphones, placed them carefully on the stand, and pushed the heavy glass door open. She walked out of the booth, the soft fabric of her pink sweatpants swishing lightly with every step. She approached the console, her dark eyes cast downward in feigned innocence, biting her lip.

"I am so sorry, Y/N," Yiren whispered, her voice incredibly soft, vibrating with a subtle, throaty rasp.

Y/N sighed heavily, leaning back in his large, ergonomic leather chair. His stern expression softened slightly as he looked at her petite, delicate form. "It's okay. Sometimes the pressure gets to us. Do you want to stop for a bit? Should we take a break?"

Yiren looked up through her dark, thick lashes. A slow, incredibly mischievous grin spread across her lush lips. She slowly closed the remaining distance, stepping right up to the chair where he sat, stopping so close she could feel the heat radiating off his muscular thighs.

"A break sounds good," she murmured softly.

Slowly, deliberately, Yiren reached out. Her small, delicate hand rested against the thick, hard slab of his chest muscle. She felt his heart skip a beat beneath her palm. As she leaned in, her loose ribbed tank top shifted, offering him a tantalizing, generous peek down the neckline to the soft, pale swell of her delicate breasts and the lacy edge of her bra.

She stood intimately close between his spread knees, staring deeply into his startled brown eyes. Before he could utter a word of protest, Yiren tilted her chin up, leaned in, and crashed her lips against his. She kissed him with deep, unbridled relish.

At first, it was jarring—the sudden collision of soft, wet lips, the intoxicating taste of her cherry lip gloss mixed with the faint, sweet trace of studio coffee. Y/N stiffened, his mind racing, utterly confused by the abrupt escalation. He didn't know how to react, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air. But as Yiren moaned softly, pressing her hot, fragrant body against his chest, sliding her delicate fingers into his short black hair, primal instinct overrode logic.

With a low, guttural growl, Y/N’s hands clamped down hard on her slender waist. He kissed her back, long, heavy, and intensely passionate. He parted his lips, allowing his hot tongue to glide seamlessly past her teeth, eagerly tasting the wet, sugary sweetness of her mouth. Their tongues tangled in a messy, wet dance, exchanging heated breaths in the quiet, dimly lit studio.

Yiren broke the kiss with a wet smack, both of them panting heavily. The air between them was practically vibrating with raw sexual tension. Her eyes were dark, dilated, burning with pure lust. Without breaking eye contact, her delicate hands trailed down the center of his chest, over the rigid muscles of his stomach, until her nimble fingers found the metal button of his jeans.

Click.

The sound of the zipper sliding down was deafening in the quiet room. Y/N gasped, his hips instinctively thrusting upward as she freed his swollen, aching cock from the confines of his denim and boxer briefs. It sprang free, an immensely thick, towering column of hot, white flesh that pulsed with every beat of his heart. It was magnificent—eighteen perfect centimeters of thick, rigid, veiny perfection, crowned with a smooth, purple-tinged head weeping with slick pre-cum.

Yiren’s breath hitched in genuine awe. She dropped gracefully to her knees, sinking into the plush studio carpet. The golden light bathed the impressive length of his erection, casting tantalizing shadows over his heavy, swollen balls. Yiren slowly licked her lips, her tongue leaving a trail of glistening moisture behind. She leaned in close, her warm breath washing over the hypersensitive head of his cock, making Y/N shiver violently in his chair.

She didn't take it in right away. Instead, she initiated a slow, exquisitely detailed ritual of lip-to-body worship. She pressed the softest, most loving kiss to the base of his shaft. Then another to the middle. Her plump lips fluttered against the thick, pulsing veins, mapping every inch of his hard flesh with gentle, sensual kisses. Y/N threw his head back, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling as a ragged sigh tore from his throat.

Yiren looked up at him with enormous, innocent doe eyes, smiling sweetly before she stuck out her tongue, drawing a long, wet stripe from the base all the way up to the slit at the tip. She tasted his salty, musky pre-cum, humming in delight. Eagerly, she wrapped her hand around the thick base, giving it a firm rub, while her mouth moved down to explore the heavy, musky weight of his balls. She took them into her mouth one at a time, swirling her warm tongue around the sensitive skin, sucking gently while she rubbed the underside of his shaft.

As she worshiped his masculine core, she began to whisper feverishly in Chinese.

"Oh god, you are so incredibly huge... I am so thirsty for you, my strict producer... I want to taste every drop of you..." she murmured against his damp skin, the foreign, breathy syllables spilling hotly onto his groin.

Y/N didn't understand a single word she was saying, but the sultry, dirty tone, the frantic, melodic way she whimpered her mother tongue against his most sensitive parts, turned him on beyond belief. The foreign whispers were an auditory aphrodisiac, intoxicating and wild.

With a soft gasp, Yiren opened her mouth as wide as she could and engulfed the purple head of his eighteen-centimeter cock. Her lips stretched taut, pulling lovingly over the immense girth. The heat and wetness of her mouth were an absolute paradise. She bobbed her head down, her lips slick with excessive saliva, sliding over the shaft. Down, down, down she went, the thick flesh parting the back of her throat.

Y/N groaned loudly, his hands dropping down to grip the sides of his leather chair, his knuckles turning white as he endured the overwhelming surge of pleasure.

Yiren deep-throated him repeatedly, the wet, sloppy, rhythmic sounds of her frantic mouth echoing through the quiet studio. Schluck, shhhluck, slop. She relished the thick, muscular texture stretching her throat open. She forced herself to take as much of him as humanly possible, her delicate hands holding the base while she pushed her face deeply into his groin. She held completely still for a prolonged moment, burying three-quarters of his massive eighteen-centimeter length past her lips, sliding the thick shaft all the way down her throat. The sheer size of it triggered a sublime mix of pain and extreme pleasure. A tear escaped her eye, tracing a glistening path down her flushed cheek as she suppressed her gag reflex, swallowing thickly, tears welling up beautifully in her dark eyes while she cried softly from the profound intensity of the sensation. She held him deep inside her mouth, letting him feel the incredible, tight, contracting muscles of her throat pulsating around him.

The wet, frantic heat, the glorious sight of her tear-streaked face holding so much of him inside her throat—it shocked Y/N fully awake. He was a raging inferno of lust now, his European restraint completely shattered. He needed more. He needed to see her.

"That’s enough," Y/N growled, a heavy, demanding edge to his voice. His large, strong hands reached down, gripping Yiren’s jaw tenderly but firmly as he slowly lifted her beautiful, saliva-slicked head away from his throbbing cock. The thick strand of saliva connecting his tip to her plump lips snapped, glistening in the golden light.

"Stand up," he commanded softly. "I want to see exactly what you have to offer."

Yiren, breathing heavily, stood up before him. A coy, highly erotic energy radiated from her every movement. With deliberate, excruciating slowness, she began to move her hips to an imaginary rhythm, a slow, hypnotic dance right there in the dimly lit studio. She hooked her thumbs under the hem of her white ribbed tank top and pulled it upward, revealing her tight, flat stomach, and finally tossing the garment aside. She stood before him in just a simple white lace bra and her loose pink sweatpants.

Y/N reached out with a trembling hand, his long, artistic fingers tracing the curve of her waist before finding the clasp of her bra. With a flick of his wrist, he unhooked it. The delicate fabric fell away, exposing her cute, perfectly round A-cup breasts. Her dark, rosy nipples were erect and shivering in the cool, air-conditioned breeze.

Yiren leaned in, capturing his lips in another deep, tongue-tangling kiss, while her small hand reached down, wrapping tightly around the slick, eighteen-centimeter shaft she had just worshiped. She worked her hand up and down in a steady, firm rhythm, stroking his length, spreading her saliva to keep him deliciously slick while their tongues wrestled furiously.

She broke the kiss, her chest heaving, and slowly turned her back to him. Hooking her thumbs into the elastic waistband of her bright pink sweatpants, she let them slide agonizingly slowly down her smooth, flawless thighs, letting them pool around her ankles before stepping out of them. Underneath, she wore a tiny, bright pink lace thong that completely exposed the soft, perky curves of her delicate ass. Looking over her shoulder with an expression of pure, unadulterated slutty perfection, Yiren slowly wiggled her ass from side to side, offering the sight of the pink fabric riding high in her crack directly to his burning gaze.

It was too much. The scent of her sweet perfume, the sight of her bouncing ass, the lingering wet heat of her mouth—Y/N couldn't hold back any longer. He stood up abruptly from the heavy leather chair, towering over her petite frame. He wrapped one massive arm around her slender waist, pulling her flush against his rock-hard body, his eighteen-centimeter cock pressing insistently against the cleft of her ass. He forced her head up and kissed her intensely, his tongue plunging deep, mimicking the brutal, passionate thrusts he was about to unleash on her body.

While they kissed, his large right hand slid down over the curve of her stomach, delving straight into the soaked fabric of her pink lace thong. He was utterly amazed by the sheer volume of slick, hot wetness pooling between her thighs. His long fingers parted her swollen pink petals, effortlessly finding the hard, highly sensitive pearl of her clit. He pinched it lightly, rubbing the slick nub with a rapid, expert circular motion.

Yiren gasped sharply into his mouth, a loud, muffled moan tearing from her throat as her knees nearly buckled. The electric jolt of absolute ecstasy shot up her spine. Her hips instinctively rolled back, trying to chase his magical fingers.

With a sudden, violent display of raw masculine desire, Y/N gripped the sides of her pink thong and ripped the delicate lace completely off her body in one smooth, aggressive motion. He tossed the shredded fabric onto the floor. Before Yiren could catch her breath, his massive hands gripped her waist firmly, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. He spun around and placed her completely naked ass down hard right onto the broad, expensive surface of the massive studio mixing console.

The contrast was shocking—the cold, smooth metal and hard plastic faders against the scorching, feverish heat of her bare skin. Yiren lay back slightly on her elbows, spreading her flawless legs wide to grant him full, uninhibited access. The soft amber light from the ceiling fixtures cast golden reflections over her glistening, impossibly wet entrance.

Y/N stepped intimately between her spread thighs. He reached down, wrapping a firm hand around the base of his rock-hard cock, and slowly, agonizingly, began to drag the thick, slick, purple head up and down the wet, swollen entrance to her tight Chinese pussy. He rubbed the broad crown of his shaft over her throbbing clit, smearing his pre-cum into her flooding juices, bathing her in thick, slick moisture without entering her.

The teasing sensation was utter torture. Her core felt like a gaping, desperate void, yearning, screaming to be filled. Yiren threw her head back, her straight black hair cascading over the mixing boards, her small breasts heaving as she whimpered pathetically, her hips thrusting up to try and impale herself, only for Y/N to pull back slightly, keeping the pressure strictly on the outside.

"Please..." Yiren sobbed, her hands blindly gripping the edges of the heavy console, her fingernails scratching the metal. "Please, Y/N... I can't take this anymore... please push it in. Please give it to me..."

A dark, intensely satisfied smirk broke across Y/N’s handsome German face. His brown eyes darkened with supreme dominance. "Ah," he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through her chest, "so now my beautiful, impatient little star is finally ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Y/N aligned the thick, weeping head of his eighteen-centimeter cock with the slick, quivering entrance of her tight pussy. He gripped her slim hips firmly, his large hands bruising her pale skin with their strength, and slowly, deliberately, began to push his immense length inside.

The stretch was magnificent, painfully tight, and overwhelmingly hot. Yiren let out a high-pitched, warbling squeal, her black eyes rolling back in her head as the enormous width spread her delicate lips, sinking inch by agonizing inch into the virgin-like tightness of her wet core. Y/N hissed a deep, throaty moan, his own eyes fluttering shut in sheer, undiluted pleasure. She was impossibly wet, slicker than oil, but the muscular walls of her interior clamped down on his thick, white flesh like a vise, holding him in a warm, throbbing embrace.

When he was finally completely sheathed inside her, his hips flushed tight against her damp, trembling thighs, they both froze, just taking a prolonged moment to breathe, to feel the incredible, absolute fullness.

Y/N leaned forward over her flushed body. He lowered his face to her chest, opening his mouth to capture one of her stiff, cold-hardened nipples. He sucked hard, drawing the sensitive peak deep into his mouth, swirling his wet tongue over the bud while he slowly began to pull his hips back. He withdrew almost completely, letting the thick head pop at the entrance, before driving his hips forward, burying himself back inside with a slow, grinding thrust.

Yiren bit down fiercely on her own bottom lip, tasting the faint, metallic tang of blood to keep herself from screaming at the top of her lungs. The dual sensation—his hot mouth mercilessly sucking, tugging at her sensitive nipple, combined with the incredibly thick, stretching fullness of his massive Big White Cock repeatedly filling her deeply to the brim—was absolute nirvana. Every slow, measured thrust sent rolling, seismic waves of electricity straight up her spine.

Schhhlick. Plap.

The wet, sloppy sounds of his groin slapping against her bare, wet ass cheeks echoed through the silent studio, harmonizing with the distant, muffled hum of the AC and the soft crackle of the sandalwood candle.

Slowly, his rhythm shifted. Y/N picked up the pace, the tempo increasing from slow, grinding pressure to hard, solid strokes. Yiren could feel her internal muscles spasming uncontrollably with every deep plunge. She couldn't remain passive. She threw her arms up, her hands desperately grabbing his strong neck, pulling his face away from her wet chest to smash his mouth against hers. She kissed him with ferocious, desperate passion, her tongue invading his mouth, frantically wrestling his, while her manicured fingernails dug deep into the hard, muscular expanse of his bare back, scratching wild red tracks into his skin as she rode the intense waves of pure ecstasy.

He thrusted faster, harder, deeper. The rhythmic slamming of his hips against hers made the entire mixing console groan slightly under their weight. Smack! Smack! Smack! The kissing simply wasn't enough anymore. The pressure building in her lower stomach was monumental, a fiery sun threatening to explode. Yiren tore her mouth away, throwing her head back, and let out a shameless, breathless scream of pure, undiluted pleasure that bounced off the soundproof foam walls.

Y/N felt the frantic, rhythmic clenching of her tight walls clamping down hard on his throbbing shaft. He knew exactly what was coming. He adjusted his grip, clamping his large, powerful hands violently onto her delicate hips, pinning her firmly to the hard surface of the mixing console. He completely changed his rhythm, pulling out very slowly, teasing the sensitive nerves at the entrance of her wet hole, pulling back further, further, and further, until only the slick purple crown remained. And then, with a low, primal roar, he drove his entire eighteen centimeters back in with brutal, devastating force, bottoming out violently against her cervix.

That massive, punishing strike pushed her entirely over the precipice. For the very first time in her young life, Yiren experienced a true, universe-shattering orgasm. Her entire body stiffened, her spine arching so rigidly off the console she looked like a drawn bow. A beautiful, sustained, high-pitched scream left her lips as the blindingly bright wave of climax tore through her. Her vaginal walls clamped and spasmed around his thick cock with ferocious strength, milking the rigid flesh violently as she rode out the shuddering, earth-shaking release.

She collapsed back onto the console, utterly destroyed, gasping for air, her chest heaving violently, sweat beading on her forehead and chest. Y/N recognized her delicate state. He instantly slowed his grinding thrusts down to a comforting, shallow rhythm, allowing the sensitive, overstimulated nerves inside her to calm slightly, letting her drift back down to earth from the euphoric high.

Yiren wrapped her weak arms loosely around his thick neck, pulling his ear close to her damp mouth. "I love it..." she whispered breathlessly, her voice hoarse, completely raw with post-orgasmic bliss. "I absolutely love your big white cock burying so deep inside my tight idol pussy."

The extraordinarily dirty, uninhibited confession flowing from the typically pristine, innocent Chinese pop star was the ultimate trigger. Y/N’s eyes burned with an animalistic fire.

"Oh, is that right?" he grunted softly, his deep voice practically vibrating through his chest into hers. "Then let me give you everything I have."

Without any warning, he abruptly picked up the pace, launching into a furious, relentless, jackhammering rhythm. He fucked her aggressively hard, incredibly fast, slamming his massive body against her tiny frame. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The brutal, meaty sound of his thick thighs impacting her wet, pink flesh was deafening. The sheer ferocity of his thrusts shook the console, knocking pens and notepads to the studio floor.

Yiren absolutely couldn't cope with the aggressive barrage of intense stimulation. The friction on her hyper-sensitive, freshly orgasmic walls was insanely overwhelming. Within a dozen thrusts, another blinding, white-hot orgasm ripped through her body, followed closely by another, chaining into multiple, rolling climaxes that left her shaking uncontrollably. She was a complete mess of moans, shrieks, and unintelligible babbles.

"Oh my god! Ah! Y/N! It’s too good! Your cock is so much better than the Asian ones! It’s so huge! Yes! Yes! Fuck me!" she screamed, her voice completely losing any filter, surrendering totally to the violent, all-consuming lovemaking.

Suddenly, the heavy soundproof door to the studio swung open.

Tzuyu walked in, lazily carrying two bottles of sparkling water, intending to check on her friend’s progress. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her dark eyes went wide, reflecting the flickering amber LED lights. The water bottles nearly slipped from her grasp.

There, sprawled out on the highly expensive mixing console, lay her fellow K-pop idol, entirely naked from the waist down, her legs spread wide and hooked over the broad shoulders of their strict European producer. Y/N was standing between Yiren’s legs, thrusting his incredibly hard, monstrously thick cock into her soaking wet pussy with lightning speed and devastating power. The sloppy, wet sounds of his brutal fucking filled the air, intermingling with Yiren’s high-pitched, pathetic moans and uncontrollable twitching as she rode out wave after wave of intense orgasms.

Instead of turning away or screaming in shock, a deeply amused, profoundly impressed smirk spread slowly across Tzuyu’s beautiful face. She watched in total awe at the size, the hardness, and the sheer velocity of Y/N’s massive cock rapidly disappearing and reappearing from Yiren’s swollen pink folds. Never one to waste a golden, chaotic opportunity, Tzuyu calmly set the water bottles down, slid her phone from her pocket, flipped open the camera app, and hit record.

Yiren’s glazed, ecstatic eyes suddenly fluttered open, catching the red recording light of the phone. Panic fought weakly against the crushing wave of absolute sexual euphoria. She squirmed under Y/N’s relentless, punishing thrusts, groaning loudly in rapid, breathless Korean, desperate to make an excuse.

"Ah! Ahhh! Tzuyu-ah! It... ah! It isn't what it looks like! Oh god! I swear! I’m just... oh! Fuck! Oh! It’s just..."

Tzuyu leaned elegantly against the studio doorframe, giggling devilishly, holding the phone perfectly steady to capture the magnificent scene of Y/N absolutely destroying her friend’s pussy.

"Well, to me it looks like we just decided to start making a very hot behind-the-scene exclusive for the fans," Tzuyu teased, making a delightfully slutty joke, completely unfazed by the explicit, raw intimacy taking place right in front of her. "You’re putting on quite the performance, Yiren. Do you want me to zoom in on his massive cock disappearing inside you?"

Yiren gave ridiculous, nonsensical answers, gasping wildly for breath as another violent orgasm shook her petite frame. She could barely formulate a thought, let alone a defense. "Ah! Stop! Ahh! It’s for the song! Oh my god, he’s hitting my cervix! It’s vocal... vocal relaxation techniques! Oh god! Yes! Don’t stop, Y/N! Just let her film!"

Her mind completely broke. She couldn't handle it anymore. Experiencing one mind-melting orgasm after another under the heavy, rhythmic assault of Y/N’s brutal fucking, Yiren went completely limp, turning her heavily glazed, dark, beautiful eyes toward Tzuyu's camera lens. A sloppy, blissful smile stretched across her sweat-slicked face as she just moaned heavily into the room.

"He just... ah... he just knows exactly how to make me feel good!" Yiren cried out loudly, accepting her incredibly pleasurable fate.

Tzuyu giggled cheerfully behind the phone, providing a running, teasing commentary on the video. "Oh wow. Look at him go, everyone. Our producer works very, very hard to bring out the absolute best in us."

Suddenly, Y/N let out a deep, booming, guttural roar. His immense muscles tensed so hard they looked like they might snap. He felt the fiery pressure of his climax rapidly surging through his heavy balls, racing up his throbbing eighteen-centimeter shaft.

"I'm coming," he growled darkly, a heavy, breathless command.

He gripping Yiren’s hips with bruising, terminal force, pulling her entirely flush against his pelvis. He didn't pull out. He drove his immense cock as deeply into her tight, slick channel as physically possible, grinding his pelvis into her, holding it there tightly.

Yiren let out one final, high-pitched scream as the extremely hot, thick ropes of his incredibly potent release began to erupt violently inside her. The first massive jet of pure white cum blasted directly against her cervix.

Tzuyu gasped behind the camera, giving real-time feedback as she zoomed in on the junction of their flushed, sweating bodies. "Oh my... Look at his muscles clenching... He’s completely filling her up... Shot! Oh, another shot! God, shot! Look at him pumping his cream into her tight Chinese pussy!"

With every single explosive pulse, every heavy, rhythmic pump of Y/N’s thick shaft deep inside her core, a massive volume of thick, searing-hot cum flooded her womb. The intense, blistering heat of his seed triggered one final, miraculous burst of pleasure. Yiren’s petite body convulsed wildly on the console, a chain reaction of small, shivering orgasmic outbursts rippling through her limbs with every consecutive shot! shot! shot! of his seed bathing her insides.

Finally, drained, exhausted, and utterly completely emptied, Y/N let out a long, heavy, rattling sigh. He held her close for another thirty seconds, savoring the tight, internal flutter of her pussy still greedily milking his softening, slick cock. Slowly, almost reluctantly, his powerful hands released their crushing grip on her bruised pink hips.

As he stepped back, an impossibly thick, sticky white string of fresh cum bridged the gap between his glistening tip and her heavily swollen, wrecked, gaping red entrance. The string snapped, and instantly, thick trails of the milky white fluid began slowly spilling and oozing out of her, running sensually down the smooth skin of her inner thighs.

With her anchor removed, Yiren completely lost the ability to support herself. She groaned weakly, slowly sliding completely off the edge of the smooth, hard mixing console, her weak, trembling legs completely failing her. She essentially collapsed onto the plush studio carpet like a beautifully broken, sweaty sack of potatoes.

Tzuyu slowly walked closer, stepping around Y/N’s towering, still-naked form, aiming her phone camera directly down at Yiren. The lens captured the Chinese idol laying on her back on the floor, breathing heavily, completely flushed from head to toe, with Y/N’s thick, messy white creampie actively running out of her wide-open, completely satisfied pussy, pooling on the floor beneath her.

Y/N zipped up his jeans, tucking his spent, still semi-hard length away, restoring his intimidating, strict producer aura as if absolutely nothing untoward had happened. He looked down at the utterly defeated, half-dead, blissfully exhausted form of the young singer trembling lightly on his carpet. A smug, deeply confident, highly European half-smile played at the corner of his lips as he folded his thick arms across his massive chest.

"So," Y/N asked smoothly, his deep, resonant voice echoing playfully in the air-conditioned, candle-lit studio. "Now that your nerves are completely relaxed... will you sing better now?"

Yiren lay totally motionless for a few agonizing seconds. The heavy beat of the room's silence was only broken by her soft pants. She slowly blinked her tired, beautiful dark eyes open. She tilted her chin up slightly, looking at Y/N’s towering, powerful frame, the incredibly imposing source of the finest twenty minutes of her entire life. Then, her dark eyes slowly shifted over to Tzuyu’s phone lens, staring directly into the camera that was still recording her absolute destruction.

A tiny, impossibly cheeky, and totally satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her swollen, gloss-smudged lips. She gave a small, exhausted nod up to Y/N.

"Yep," Yiren whispered breathlessly, her voice raspy, laced with a devilish, totally unapologetic K-pop charm. "This recording will be exceptionally good now... and if it's not, I'll probably just need a little more of your... special 'help'."