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They’ve spent the past few weeks in a series of hotels, and this one is no different, though it’s much cheaper than what the company reserves for them. One queen sized bed, a TV on the wall, and a chair in the corner that Matthew immediately calls The Cuck Chair.
“It’s facing the bed. It’s where the cuck watches as he’s, well–” she goes to finish her joke but Taeri kisses her first, pulling her onto the bed. Matthew lands on her lap laughing. “Woah. I didn't think my joke was that bad.”
The bed dips under new weight as Jiwoo hooks her chin over Matthew’s shoulder. “It was pretty bad,” she agrees, kissing up Matthew’s neck. “Shirt off. Let’s get this show on the road.”
The show in question is, of course, sex. Long overdue sex, because it’s going to be real sex. Not just finger-fucking in the shower and groping in the dark like teenagers at a sleepover. Real sex on a real bed where they’ll all have like twenty orgasms and pass out at the end. The way that God intended sex to be.
Jiwoo and Matthew start laughing together, startling Taeri out of her thoughts. “Taeri, you look insane right now.” Matthew swoops down to kiss her, shivering when Taeri’s fingers go to tangle in the hair that curls around the nape of her neck only to catch in nothing at all, nails scraping along her bare nape instead.
The dark brown hair was a risky, hasty choice that Matthew was able to get away with on the grounds of overly damaged hair in desperate need of recovery. Which was an objective fact—by the end of awards season, her hair was limp on her scalp. It looks so much healthier now that it’s been dyed brown and cropped short, neatly and routinely trimmed to get rid of the last few dead ends.
Matthew looks healthier too. Happier, lighter, as if a physical weight has been taken off of her shoulders. She liked her hair style before, she says, and Taeri believes her—Matthew’s been much better at being honest than she was at debut. But this new haircut makes her feel just… right, whole in a way that she hasn’t been able to explain.
It looks right on her, at least in Taeri’s opinion. It fits with all the other changes that Matthew’s been making; bulking up, working on her core and abs, asking the stylists to draw her eyebrows thicker, and all of her new tattoos. Her clothing has gotten more masc too, her closet now favouring muscle tees and street wear, even in the still-cold March air.
She’s even started binding her chest. Not often, just from time to time. If there’s a rhyme or reason, then it’s one that Taeri isn’t privy to. All she knows is that when Matthew takes off her shirt, arm muscles rippling with the movement, that she looks really good. Glowing in the dim light, toned and muscled all the way down.
Jiwoo kisses the back of Matthew’s neck. “We need to find a binder that doesn’t cover up your tattoo,” she hums. Taeri mumbles a vague agreement, running her hands up Matthew’s muscled thighs, coarse with hair. “Or tape. Tape would be good.”
“We need to get you a hobby, unnie, so that I can fuck Taeri’s brains out in peace,” Matthew replies, too breathy to be anything substantial. Still, she fights Jiwoo’s off hands to look at them both eagerly. “Our package finally came.”
Instantly, Taeri is blushing and so much wetter than she was before. “Your package, you mean,” she still has the presence of mind to joke.
Jiwoo adds, “The package that you're putting in Taeri’s mailbox.”
Matthew seems significantly less excited. “Neither of you are getting my strap, actually. You both suck.”
“Oh, I’ll show you suck.” It’s still intended to be joking but Taeri can’t help but sound desperately horny. Sue her. She wants her hot butch girlfriend to fold her in half.
Jiwoo laughs, climbing off the bed, laughing harder when they look at her mournfully. “You’re both too cute,” she beams, toothy and wide. “My two pretty puppies, putting on such a good show for me.”
She goes to stand in front of The Cuck Chair, but doesn’t sit down. She grabs the hem of her shirt first. “Unnie?” Matthew asks, barely a word, more of a pitchy noise in the back of her throat.
“My package also came in,” Jiwoo beams, and then she starts to strip.
Taeri would never admit it, but she’s watched some of Jiwoo’s Afreeca streams before. Long before Girls Planet; she was a very loyal and closeted subscriber, and Jiwoo was one of the many triggering factors that made her realize that she’s gay. Taeri is intimately aware of Jiwoo’s history and the skills she’s accumulated because of it, the subtle way that she’s able to turn the most innocuous of gestures into something sly and sultry.
Flirtation and seduction is a delicate art. Taeri never understood the criticism that Jiwoo faced—accusations about her basically being a soft-core porn star, a cheap slut and a dumb whore selling her body for money. There’s nothing cheap or dumb about Jiwoo. She’s a skillful person. She never did anything outright sexual, she always followed the Afreeca terms of service to the letter of the word. She was just charming, pretty, and she knew how to use it gracefully.
However, what Jiwoo does now is not subtle. It’s a full-on strip tease.
Taeri’s hands land on Matthew’s hips and tighten as Jiwoo’s back arches elegantly, tortuously peeling off her tight white shirt to reveal a little red number. It’s strappy but also lacy, a dizzyingly attractive combination. Sheer cups with swirling red designs that show more skin than expected, supported by crimson straps that cross over the curve over the swell of Jiwoo’s breasts and up to her throat, secured to a silver buckle that connects the bra to a snug red collar.
There are straps at the bottom of the bra too, extending straight down and over a band that wraps around her taut abs and then past that, disappearing under the fabric of her jeans. Jiwoo’s hands dance along the buckle of her belt as she sways her hips enticingly. “Wanna see the rest?” She purrs, eyes dancing with mirth.
Matthew makes a very small and very high noise in the back of her throat. Taeri nods, and manages to croak, “Please.”
The pride on Jiwoo’s face makes them both shiver. Wordlessly, she spins around, unbuckles her pants, and then bends over as she pushes them down.
The panties are crotchless and lace, and mostly seem to be there to frame Jiwoo’s pretty and bushy pussy. The real delight are the garters, two red straps on either thigh pulled up by the band around Jiwoo’s waist, and in turn supporting a sheer pair of red tights that hug Jiwoo’s strong legs wonderfully.
When Jiwoo straightens, she does so slowly, running her manicured hands up the backs of her thighs, grabbing her ass to shake it, and then turning around slowly. One of her hands comes up to comb her hair over her shoulder.
“How do you like it?” She asks, a surprising note of shyness in her voice. She isn’t able to look at them directly.
Matthew speaks first, this time. “Unnie,” she says severely, sincerely. “Unnie, can we please, please, please eat you out?”
Taeri moans, arching up at just the thought. Jiwoo’s muscled legs spread around the two of them, her fingers in their hair as they take turns mouthing at her pussy, drinking her in, making her cum–
Jiwoo laughs, and it’s stark with relief. “No,” she says, very kind and very firm. “But you can give me a show in return for the one I gave you.”
She sits down in The Cuck Chair and crosses her legs, a movement quick enough to show another flash of her cunt. It doesn’t look very wet from where Taeri is, and it probably isn’t—Jiwoo’s relationship with sex is weird and complicated, as she’s explained. She likes watching, and sometimes she even likes participating, but she has little to no desire to ever have anyone get her off in turn. She’s touched them hundreds of times herself, but Taeri’s never been allowed to return the favour.
When they booked the hotel, she said clearly, in no uncertain terms, “I won’t join in. I might sit next to you, and kiss and touch you, but I don’t want you to touch me.” Then she added, “Please feel free to ask, though. I like knowing that you want to, because that makes it even more fun when I get to reject you.”
It’s very, very Jiwoo.
“Well, Taeri-yah?” Matthew says. Taeri jolts at the sound of her name, and then at the way Matthew slides off the bed. “Do you wanna give us a look-see?”
It’s then that Taeri realizes that she’s the only one still clothed. And that Matthew and Jiwoo are staring at her with open anticipation.
Her entire face goes red. “Don’t stare,” she protests, sitting up straighter and shuffling back on the bed to kneel. Jiwoo makes binoculars with her hands and holds them up to her eyes. “Unnie!”
“You’re so hot,” is her only response, which is
insane.
Taeri is wearing a gray cable-knit sweater and a long denim skirt. She looks like a fucking librarian, even though she left her glasses at home. Hao once told her that she just kind of has a general librarian air about her, and Taeri is still trying to recover from it.
She tries to protest, “I’m not wearing anything as exciting as either of you.” It’s gruff and snippish and not quite able to hide the warble of insecurity underneath.
She’s not drop dead gorgeous like Jiwoo or ruggedly handsome like Matthew. She doesn’t have the confidence to wear something as daring as lingerie or as rugged as a binder and a tight pair of boxer-briefs. She’s wearing what she always wears, high waisted granny panties and a large cup bra. Hell, she’s not even sure that they’re matching.
“So?” Matthew asks, tilting her head. She’s stripped off her boxers and started working on the buckles of her harness. Her little hands yank the straps tight around her thigh and Taeri gets a little light-headed. “You’re gonna be naked when I fuck you. Who cares what your panties look like?”
“Matty,” Jiwoo admonishes, laughing. Matthew squawks at her, offended. “Be a little classier.”
“What’s there to be classy about!? We’re gonna bang!”
While they squabble, Taeri swallows thickly, squeezes her eyes shut, and pulls off her sweater before she can think twice about it.
Jiwoo and Matthew go abruptly silent.
Taeri doesn’t open her eyes, fingers fumbling as she starts to undo the brass buttons of her denim skirt. She’s not confident enough to stand up and take it off, not confident enough to stand tall and bare it all. They’ve seen her body before, yes, and it’s nothing that they’re not aware of; her heavy, sagging breasts, striped with stretch marks because they refused to stop growing; the soft pouch of her tummy, weight that she’s never been able to shake off; the flab of her arms and thighs, the stoutness of her form that she hasn’t shaped as well as Matthew has.
Taeri knows that she doesn’t really have an idol body. It’s gotten better with dieting and dancing and the inevitable weight loss that comes from a jam-packed schedule. And she knows that they know exactly what she looks like naked, what she looks like when she’s about to cum, what she looks like in the afterglow. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s so scary, and so shameful, each and every time she takes it all off.
There’s a part of her, a quiet and persistent part that she’s never learned how to silence, that says, each and every time, this time, they’re gonna laugh at you, and then they’re going to walk away.
The last button on her skirt is something she can’t quite get. There’s the sudden touch of smaller hands on hers. “Let me?” Matthew asks, so kind and so careful. Longer fingers press against the small of her back, dragging up to the clasp of her bra. “Ah, Jiwoo-unnie, yeah–”
“If it’s alright,” Jiwoo offers, low and soothing.
Taeri nods quickly, but her breath is slow and steadying. “Please,” she asks, and then holds very still for them to take it the rest of the way.
Jiwoo’s hands are deft on the clasp, gently sliding the straps off of Taeri’s arms. She works silently, but inhales sharply when Taeri’s breasts sag heavily on her chest once finally freed. In front of Taeri and lower—kneeling, she realizes, a sudden and dizzying revelation—Matthew says, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful–”
The last button is undone. Taeri rises off of her butt for Matthew to pull the fabric free, her hands colliding with Jiwoo’s on the band of her panties. “What colour are they?” She asks, a blurted question, too loud and too sudden. “I– I forgot.”
Chuckling, Jiwoo kisses the shell of her ear. “Orange,” she says. When Taeri groans, dismayed, she can feel Jiwoo’s smile against her temple. “And your bra was gray. You looked like a cloudy sunset.”
“Kill me,” Taeri moans, humiliated, lifting her legs one-at-a-time for Jiwoo to pull her panties down. She tries not to focus on her chub and the way it all seems to feel heavier when no longer compressed by her underwear. “Ugh, I had a pair of black panties all washed and ready too–”
The whole bed creaks as Matthew clambers up onto it. “Taeri-yah,” Matthew says fiercely. Small hands cup Taeri’s face—it’s only then that she dares crack open her eyes. She meets Matthew’s handsome glare, sharp and stern and still kind of cute. This close, Taeri can feel the tip of Matthew’s strap-on against her thigh. It’s a little strange but mostly hot.
Matthew says, “You are so, unbelievably hot, and I really wanna fuck you. But if you don’t want to, that is perfectly fine, and I am more than happy to just ride this strap for you and Jiwoo-unnie, because you’re both so hot, and even watching you guys just sit around naked and talk would get my stones removed.”
Taeri frowns. “Stones removed? Like, kidney stones?”
“That’s not the– it’s an expression in English that didn’t translate!” Matthew snaps, and Jiwoo starts laughing, and Taeri feels like she has to kiss Matthew on the mouth right now or else she’s going to die.
So, she does. Kiss Matthew, that is.
She can’t die yet, she still has strap to take.
Neatly, Jiwoo climbs off the bed again, giving Matthew the room to push Taeri down onto the mattress and climb on top to kiss her deeper. Her calloused hands leave Taeri’s face, rough pads and palms scratching over her skin as she paws over Taeri’s torso, cupping her tits and squeezing. The sensation makes Taeri gasp and squirm—her breasts aren’t usually that sensitive, but they always are under either Jiwoo or Matthew’s hands.
“Matthew,” Taeri breathes, shivering. She can watch the way that the name sparks through Matthew’s body, heat and hope in equal measure. “Matthew-yah, oppa–”
That gets a curse, one that Matthew buries directly into Taeri’s cleavage. “Don’t,” she warns, muffled between the mounds of flesh. She’s frowning up, only her nose and eyes visible, and Taeri giggles. “I’m warning you. You’ll regret it.”
Taeri grins but lets it go. “Fuck me, Matty,” she purrs instead, pressing her thigh up and against the heavy silicon between Matthew’s legs. Matthew shudders—this harness has a firm plastic pad that offers some nice friction for the wearer, apparently. “Split me open on your strap.”
From the chair, Jiwoo says, “Fucking hell.” Even she sounds affected.
Matthew straightens, something dark and heavy in her eyes. The movement reveals the toy in full, flesh-coloured and long. Not too long, it’s still proportionate to the rest of Matthew’s body but it’s sizeable, thick and hefty in a way that still manages to be realistic. It doesn’t turn Taeri’s stomach the way that dicks in porn tend to do, but that might have more to do with the person it’s attached to than anything else.
“It looks good on you,” she blurts, right as Matthew is about to speak. It’s so sudden that Matthew chokes on her breath, face colouring rapidly and her eyes darting everywhere else—she’s shy, Taeri realizes, delighted. She pushes up until she’s resting on her elbows and reaches forward, wrapping her long fingers around the base of Matthew’s cock. It feels a little weird, cold silicon under her fingers but her knuckles brushing against the rough fabric of the harness.
“Tighter,” Jiwoo orders, sharp and sudden. Taeri obliges before she even registers that she’s being spoken to. When she does, Matthew whines, even though she can’t even feel anything at all. “Good girl Taeri-yah. Matthew, stand up next to the bed. Give your girl more room to work.”
Jiwoo knows the way to make things look sexy and pretty. She’s gotten millions of views on videos where she just talks about cooking and flower cutting, simply because she knew how to sit herself in a way to make her boobs look bigger. When Matthew climbs off the bed and Taeri crawls over to meet her again, she has a sudden moment where she feels like she might pass out—she’s on her hands and knees in front of Matthew’s dick, looking up at Matthew like she’s about to take it in her mouth.
Based on the way that Matthew looks—wide-eyed, chest heaving with short and sharp breaths, something shattered and vulnerable on her face—she feels similarly.
“Oh God,” Matthew mumbles, her voice far-away and shaking. Her fingers twitch at her sides, nails brushing against the harness on her hips, and then Matthew’s face twists. “I… t-this–”
“Breathe, Soobin-ie,” Jiwoo orders. Matthew sucks in a long but stuttering breath. “The harness looks fine. From here, it looks like you shoved down your boxers to take your cock out for Taeri to suck.”
Taeri—trying to stay still, trying to give Jiwoo the space to work through this moment with Matthew—jolts at the mention of her name, shoulders drawing tight. She can’t help but wonder how she looks from here, if her belly is hanging low, if her tits look stupid swinging underneath her like a pair of udders, if she looks like a fugly cow–
“Taeri,” Jiwoo calls, only slightly reprimanding. “Taeri, look up at Matthew.”
Taeri isn’t sure when she looked away. She swallows and then she obeys—when she tilts her head up, her top lip catches on the head of the strap. Matthew’s breath audibly catches at that.
Jiwoo asks, patient and kind, “Matty-yah, how does Taeri look?”
“Good,” Matthew says in a rush, rough and affected, her pupils almost entirely black. “So good. So pretty.”
“I agree,” Jiwoo hums, approvingly. “Taeri, how does Matty look?”
Incredible,
Taeri thinks, distant and dizzy.
Handsome and strong. Powerful. Beautiful. Divine.
She gives her answer by taking the tip into her mouth.
Again, a sensation that Matthew can’t feel, but her hips stutter forwards regardless. It’s a sudden but shallow movement, not hard to deal with at all. Taeri puts her hand on Matty’s hip, in the space between the straps of the harness and squeezes in reassurance. She breathes through her nose, swallows some of the spit pooling in her mouth, and then pushes down a little further.
Jiwoo whistles, long and approving. “Atta girl,” she purrs, impossibly pleased. “Take it slow, keep it steady. Try and go limp in the throat—all that vocal practice should be paying off.”
Taeri has to pull off to laugh, blushing and snorting around all the drool in her mouth. “Unnie, ew,” she wheezes. It comes out kind of phlegm-y and gross—even Matthew is able to laugh at that. “Ugh, only talk if you’re gonna be helpful, okay!?”
“Alright, alright!” Jiwoo chuckles, placating. She looks remarkably comfy in her chair, one leg hooked over the armrest, one hand idly moving between her legs.
That sends a shock of heat through Taeri’s core—they look good enough for Jiwoo to touch herself. Emboldened, she turns back to Matthew’s cock, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Ready?” She asks Matthew, flashing a grin.
Matthew catches her by the shoulders gently. “You’re the one doing all the work, what do I have to be ready for?” Matthew questions, her teasing tone somewhat hesitant, and that hesitancy in turn marred by sheer desire. Taeri pauses where she is, waiting. Eventually, Matthew sighs and says, “Y-You don’t have to.”
Taeri sighs. Matthew is so dumb. “I want to, stupid,” she scoffs, and then starts to go down again.
She can’t really do a lot, even when Jiwoo is keeping quiet and Matthew is staying very still. Taeri’s never sucked dick before, silicon or real or otherwise. It’s tricky and arduous, but it’s fine. Taeri might be lacking in finesse, might be drooling everywhere and making a sloppy mess of Matthew’s strap, but really, that’s the point—it’s not about how it feels, it’s about how it looks.
Carefully, Matthew’s hand moves to cup the back of Taeri’s hand. Taeri looks up through her lashes. Matthew looks like she might cry.
There’s a creak from the chair. “Matthew-yah?” Jiwoo asks, concerned.
“You’re so hot,” Matthew sniffles, weepy. Taeri has to pull off before she chokes on her laughter again. As she does, Matthew’s other hand catches her jaw, thumbing away some of the spit on her lips. “And you’re both really nice to me, even with all my bullshit.”
Matthew had a full blown panic attack when she tried to buy the strap-on on her own. In the end, Haneul had to sit with her, coaxing her to make the purchase. Matthew was terrified that she’d put it on and hate her body even more than she already does. She’s been binding more often than not, these days. She still has her binder on now, the skin-coloured fabric riding up ever so slightly to reveal reddened flesh, rubbed raw from a full day’s wear.
Taeri sits up on her knees and grabs her breasts, fucking Matthew’s strap in between her cleavage. Jiwoo
moans
from the chair. Matthew gasps, terrified and turned on in almost equal measure.
For once, Taeri thinks that she lucked out with her massive tits. It's the only thing keeping Matthew's head in the moment, and not in a downward spiral.
“All I’m thinking about right now is how my tummy is going to look when you finally start fucking me,” she admits, breathier than she’d like. Giving a strap a tit-job is surprisingly hot. It’s really doing something to Taeri, her thighs clenching and her core warming. But she pushes that aside, gripping the softness of her own flesh tighter to say, “I’ve got bullshit in spades, Matthew-yah. You’re not a freak for feeling this way.”
She’s said these words so many times. So has Jiwoo. All of them have, all of their members, and she knows that it kind of means nothing at all coming from them. Maybe it means something coming from Geun, who’s taken to calling them all noona in private, except for Matthew, who's gotten the honourific of hyung; who watched Matthew parade around in her binder with open jealousy and wretched grief. Maybe it means absolutely jack shit coming from Taeri, who has felt ugly and fat, but has never once felt fundamentally wrong in her very self and being.
But she looks at Matthew and says it anyway, because no matter who is saying it, it’s the truth. It's something that Matthew needs to hear.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Jiwoo echoes, a confirmation. Jiwoo, who still can’t enjoy sex because hands on her body makes her hyperventilate and panic. Jiwoo, who isn’t even joining them in bed, but has been the most vulnerable out of all three of them, sexualizing and objectifying herself in the same way that once used for survival, the same way that sometimes makes her feel sick.
Jiwoo, who neither of them will touch tonight, but come morning, they will still love her all the same.
Taeri finishes, a little lamely, “But you do look crazy hot with a dick, in case you were wondering.”
And Matthew—lovely, handsome, gorgeous, strong Matthew—swallows her tears, nods, and then shoves Taeri down onto the bed.
“Thank you for loving me, and also for the tit-job, that was so hot, what the fuck,” she says, halfway between rough and teary. Taeri laughs, a shrieking and high thing that’s underscored by Jiwoo’s giggling. “I’m gonna fuck your brains out, Taeri-yah.”
It’s only when she’s flat on her back does Taeri realise the situation that she’s found herself in. There are three people in this room. One of them is Matthew, currently riding the gender euphoria high of a realistic strap-on and seemingly intent on weaponizing that for her own personal gain. And the other person is Jiwoo, who will not be able to divert any of Matthew’s sexual mania away from Taeri’s poor pussy, and actually seems to have a vested interest in seeing Taeri thoroughly destroyed.
This suspicion is confirmed when Jiwoo calls out, “Maybe eat Taeri’s pussy first, Matty, get her nice and sloppy the same way she did for you.”
“Unnie!” Taeri calls, betrayed, her head spinning already. She cranes her neck to glare—Jiwoo just grins back with all of her teeth. “Do you want me dead?”
Jiwoo’s answer disappears in a flood of static that fills Taeri’s ears when Matthew hooks her thumbs on the lips of Taeri’s pussy to spread her open, and then spits onto her clit.
“Woah,” Jiwoo snorts, impressed. “Go get ‘er, champ.”
Taeri wants to complain again but she’s too busy keening, arching up and away from Matthew’s insistent tongue. Matthew is a fucking fiend when it comes to eating box—she’s already obsessive and single minded about everything else that she does. Taeri’s total inability to keep quiet only fuels the fire. Matthew loves to just sit between Taeri’s legs and twist her tongue in new ways, trying to figure out how loud she can make Taeri scream.
Today, the answer is not that loud at all. It’s one thing when Taeri’s been corralled into an empty hall closet in a totally abandoned corner of the WakeOne building, free to shriek and sob as much as she wants. It’s another thing entirely when they’re in a hotel and sharing a floor with other people.
Still, Matthew tries her damnedest. She keeps one hand firm on Taeri’s thigh, the other coming down to fuck her open with one finger at first and slowly working up to three. Matthew’s mouth never leaves her skin for more than a moment, and it’s only ever to shift to a different area of her body to torment. She slides down to Taeri’s thighs to suck bruises into the flesh, up to Taeri’s chest to lick her tits, all the way back down to Taeri’s pussy to suckle at her clit, and then even lower to fuck her tongue in-between the three of her fingers.
Taeri writhes in the sheets, one hand clutching at the blankets, the other firm over her mouth. She looks to Jiwoo, pleading and desperate. “Unnie,” she sobs, muffled, not daring to lift her hand, her caution only proven to be correct when Matthew noses at her clit and makes her squeal. “H-Help–!”
“Aw, poor baby,” Jiwoo coos, but she stands, hips swaying purposefully as she moves closer. Even through tears and lidded eyes, she looks like a fucking vision. Taeri feels her cunt pulse against Matthew’s mouth, wetness spilling into wetter warmth. “Is our Matty being mean?”
Between Taeri’s legs, Matthew huffs, disgruntled. Still, she pulls back, giving Taeri room to breathe. “I w-wanna cum,” she gasps, limp and helpless. She can’t do anything except let Jiwoo sit on the bed behind her, pulling Taeri halfway into her lap. Her breasts make a really nice cushion, Taeri learns right then, her body propped up between Jiwoo’s firm thighs.
With Jiwoo’s body bracketing hers, it’s easier for Taeri to catch her breath. “It’s too much– too much to keep going if I can’t cum. Either make me cum like this, or fuck me.”
Matthew’s eyes sweep over the two of them hungrily, but she speaks only to Taeri when she says, “I’m gonna make you cum when I fuck you.” It’s an active threat and a firm promise. Taeri shivers under its intensity; Jiwoo hides a smile into her scalp with a kiss. “You sure you can handle it if I make you cum with my mouth?”
For once, the challenge in her voice is intentional, and not a byproduct of a clumsy tongue. Taeri starts to rise up, offended, a response forming on her lips, and then she falls silent when Jiwoo scolds, “Matthew. You’re not a stupid boy are you?”
Matthew goes very still, and her face gets very red. Quietly, she replies, “No, I’m not.”
Jiwoo hums. “Who are you talking to again?”
The flush darkness. Matthew corrects, “No, unnie–” but that’s as far as she gets before Jiwoo clicks her tongue, disappointed. Face blazing, Matthew tries again, her voice even smaller, “I’m sorry noona. I’m not a stupid boy.”
“Good girl,” Jiwoo says, her voice rich with praise. Matthew squirms, caught between preening and hiding away. “You listened to noona well.”
Taeri doesn’t know what the fuck is going on other than this is something clearly pre-negotiated and well-established between the two of them, but whatever it is, it’s really hot. She doesn’t get a chance to reflect on it, because Matthew dips back down to nip at her clit.
The break from stimulation does nothing to keep Taeri from her orgasm any longer—it’s an edge that she hurtles towards with gasps and whines, a climax she reaches with a throaty cry, arching off of Jiwoo’s lap and grinding her hips against Matthew’s face. “Oh, ghnn, fuck–” she chokes out, lashes wet and fluttering, sparks flitting behind her eyes with every purposeful squeeze of Jiwoo’s hands on her tits. “M-Matthew, fuck, Matthew–”
Matthew pulls off just as she starts to get too sensitive, clambering up onto the bed with a wet face and dark eyes. “C-Can I fuck you?” She asks, still managing to be concern even though she looks ready to ravage Taeri’s body. “Is it okay? Is it too much?”
“Please,” Taeri whines, spreading her legs. “Please.”
Jiwoo shifts, pushing her legs under Taeri’s thighs so that her legs are inside Taeri’s and then using their positioning to force Taeri’s legs even wider. Taeri’s hips, flexible as always, take the stretch without complaint. The rub of Jiwoo’s pantyhose against her skin is kind of nice.
“C’mon, Matty,” Jiwoo croons, laden with affection. When Matthew crawls closer, she reaches out a foot, rubbing her toes against the now dry head of Matthew’s strap. Taeri and Matthew gasp in tandem—it’s an obscene visual. Matthew’s eyelashes flutter, hips jerking forwards, Jiwoo moving her foot away so Matthew can’t chase the feeling. She advises, amused, “Maybe lube up first. Taeri is wet, but we still don’t wanna hurt her.”
“You could rip me in half and I wouldn’t care,” Taeri scoffs, still kinda loopy from her orgasm. Jiwoo snorts, rubbing circles over Taeri’s tummy. The touch makes her flinch at first, but it’s soothing and idle, so it’s easy to relax into. Still, Taeri makes sure to say, “I need a cock in me or I’ll die.”
Some of that darkness leaves Matthew’s eyes when she laughs, staggering off the bed and stumbling towards her bag for the lube. As she goes, Jiwoo taps Taeri’s hips, readjusting them so that they’re braced against the headboard.
“I’m moving as fast as–” Matthew starts, and then bends down towards her bag and her sentence ends with a wince and a long, earnest, “Ow.”
Jiwoo goes kind of still. “Eight hours?” She asks. It’s something of a warning.
Grimacing, Matthew nods. She glances over nervously. “It’s– I’m okay to take it off,” she says, tugging at the hem of it. “The dick is helping with all that, I think– but if you’re okay with–”
“With your tits in my face?” Taeri asks, cocking an eyebrow. Jiwoo snickers like an idiot. “Matthew, honey, I’m familiar with the territory.”
“Well okay then,” Matthew sputters, face flushed with it. She puts the bottle of lube back down, peels off her binder, and then picks it back up, massaging a rib as she walks back over. Idly, she frowns at the discarded item. “I think it shrunk in the wash? It’s really been bugging me the last few times I’ve worn it.”
Taeri frowns, reaching up to rub at the red spots on Matthew’s ribs. “Looks like it.” One of the irritated patches is right by her tattoo. “But it’s also kind of old, right? It’s the one your sister got you in high school?”
There’s a moment where Matthew just looks at her with these big, bright eyes, and then it passes. “That could be it too.”
“I’ll buy you another one,” Jiwoo promises. She also reaches forwards to put her hand on Matthew’s shoulder. It feels like the two of them are a two-headed, eight-limbed monster, created solely out of raw desire for one Seok Matthew and her strap. The Seok Matthew in question smiles at Jiwoo, and knows better than to protest. “We’ll also get you some tape. My trans friends say that it’s helpful even with binding, and you’re on the smaller side, so you might be able to get away with just that.”
Matthew says, “Thanks Eomma.” When Jiwoo and Taeri both recoil, she rushes to explain, “Like a sugar mother- uh, a sweet mommy? You don’t have those in Korea?”
“I think it got lost in translation, baby,” Jiwoo tries, still sounding disgusted.
Taeri snaps, “Lube up your dick and stick it in me and shut up, my pussy is ready to seal itself shut!”
Jiwoo almost falls off the fucking bed at the way that Matthew pouts but still listens.
The mood comes back slowly, largely due to the visual of it. Matthew’s small fist pumping her wet dick twisting over the head with practiced ease. When she strokes down to the base, her hips push forwards, lips parting at the sensation. “I c-can kinda grind my clit like this,” she explains, demonstrating again with a breathy sigh. “It’s nice.”
Taeri swallows thickly and arches her hips up. “Please,” she whispers, raw want mounting in her throat like a sob, like a scream. “I–”
“Just don’t touch my chest,” Matthew adds in a rush, still shuffling over. Her face gets all ruddy when she explains, “I wanna– if I can cum just from fucking you– that’d–”
“Of course,” Jiwoo says soothingly, rubbing Taeri’s stomach again in calming circles, and Taeri is barely able to choke out an affirmative before Matthew is positioning her cock at her entrance, and then bracing against the headboard, and then fucking home.
Taeri has never fucked a boy before. She was a good little church girl and she knew better than to let boys look at her that way, even after she became a trainee. There were plenty of boys who tried, lured in by a figure that she couldn’t ever seem to hide, no matter how many layers of clothing that she wore. But Taeri never let them touch her, much less hold her—she was taught that the choking fear was something that every good God-fearing girl felt. That meant that she was a good Christian lady. That she’d make a great wife someday.
Then she joined WakeOne, had a couple of furious make-outs with Park Hyebin in the practice rooms, and quickly realized that most good Christian ladies don’t crave the touch of another woman instead of the touch of a man. A couple more make-outs later, make-outs that escalated to fever pitches of frantic groping, and Taeri figured that succumbing to Hellfire was fine if it was as warm as a mouth on her cunt.
The biggest thing that she’s ever taken was her own fingers—she’s got big hands for a girl. Not even Jiwoo’s veiny digits could stretch her as wide as she could herself. But she’s never had a girl fuck her like this, she’s never had a toy split her open, she’s never had a boy take her virginity.
In a way, she still hasn’t. Virginity is just a construct, for one, and Taeri’s already left the church so who gives a shit about that anymore. But for another, it’s Matthew fucking into her, it’s Matthew’s cock carving her open for the first time. Not a boy, or a girl—Matthew, muscled arms flexing with exertion as she braces against her own weight.
Jiwoo kisses Taeri’s ear. “You’re doing so well, baby,” she murmurs, and the words pop the balloon that’s been inflating in the space between Taeri’s ribs and lungs. Jiwoo’s hand moves, fingers pressing right under Taeri’s belly button. She presses down and sensation sparks behind Taeri’s eyes. “That’s it, just breathe, there you go–”
Matthew gasps when her hips press flush against Taeri’s, sweat dripping down the bridge of her nose. “I’m inside you,” she says, grinding forwards, chasing friction and pushing impossibly deeper. Taeri whines, head lolling back as she looks up at Matthew through lidded eyes. Matthew’s are blown wide looking back down at her. “A-Are you okay?”
Her breasts still look a little painful—Matthew’s so fucking buff that her boobs sit on a shelf of muscle, soft pads over firm pectorals. After binding, they tend to look kind of tender. Matthew doesn’t want her chest played with, so Taeri would never, but what she does want to do is grab some cream and massage the flesh. Not sexual, or even sensual. Just soothing.
A hand cups Taeri’s face and turns it. Taeri looks back to meet Jiwoo’s eyes, her brow furrowed. “Taeri?” She asks, sweet and concerned.
Taeri hums and strains up to plant a kiss on Jiwoo’s pout, soft and demure. “Thank you for holding me,” she murmurs, and then she turns back to Matthew, watching them both with tear-filled eyes.
To her, Taeri huffs, “Well? Get on with it.”
Taeri’s body starts to shake, because Jiwoo starts laughing so hard that she jostles them both. Matthew’s nose wrinkles, offended. “You’re such a pillow princess,” she grumbles, which is blatantly untrue, Taeri has given Matthew head so many– well, more times than a pillow princess ever would–
Then Matthew starts moving, and Taeri stops thinking so hard about it.
Again, Taeri doesn’t have a lot of experience when it comes to being fucked. In fact, she has a grand total of zero experience, so there’s not a lot that she can reference for whether Matthew’s doing a good job or not. Matthew’s certainly putting in a lot of effort; using long and languid thrusts that are still forceful enough for Taeri to feel; smoothly rolling her hips the way only a dancer can, the way they have to do for their bizarrely masculine Sweat choreography; angling each of her thrusts in a way that reaches as deep as possible.
What Taeri does know is the feeling that she gets when her orgasm starts to build while she’s getting finger-fucked. It’s a choppy, sharp, and sudden feeling that builds quickly and without warning. Taeri hasn’t been fucked, but she knows that she likes penetration, that she can cum without any fingers on her clit.
This is similar. It’s a slower and kinder build, each thrust a rolling ocean wave that brings the tide of her orgasm closer to the rocks. The rough edges are smoothed out and helped along by Jiwoo’s wandering hands, tugging and teasing at her tits, scratching over her thighs for a shivery-good sensation, holding her face still to kiss into her mouth, and resting on her tummy to push down.
That’s the thing that feels the best. When Jiwoo rubs on her belly, her womb, careful pressure that she times with Matthew’s quickening thrusts. It kind of feels like Taeri’s being fucked from the inside and the out—she says as much and Matthew loses her rhythm entirely, her concentration broken with a needy and throaty groan.
“You’re killing me, Taeri-yah,” Matthew huffs, her blush splotchy with exertion. Whenever she fucks all the way in, she lingers just a little longer, grinding her clit and chasing her own orgasm. “F-Fuck, wish I could feel you clench down whenever n-noona presses–”
She gasps, eyes crossing—it’s a deeper thrust than the rest, one that Taeri feels in the hollow of her own throat. “Your cock feels so good, Matty,” she sighs, aching with the need to cum. “I’m s-so close, fuck–”
Jiwoo murmurs, “All the way in, Matthew, fuck her as deep as you can go.” Matthew does and Taeri chokes on a whine, a tear spilling out and streaking across her cheek. Jiwoo urges, pressing against Taeri’s stomach insistently, “Just keep grinding there, it’s good pressure–”
“U-Unnie–!” Taeri squeals, her legs starting to shake. At the same time, Matthew whispers, “Noona,” her head dropping low enough for her forehead to press against Taeri’s.
Matthew’s short hair is sweaty and unstyled, falling into her eyes. She pants, open-mouthed against Taeri’s lips—their bangs are sticking together.
One of Jiwoo’s hands takes Taeri’s nipple and squeezes. “There you go,” she grinds out, rough like she’s been getting fucked herself. “You can cum, that’s it, my good girls–”
Taeri’s eyes roll back as she trembles apart, cunt fluttering and pulsing around the unyielding length in her pussy. Matthew cries out and surges forward, pressing her mouth against Taeri’s as her orgasm hits in the moments after.
Jiwoo’s hand leaves Taeri’s breast and reaches further to comb through Matthew’s hair. She whispers, reverent, “You’re both so lovely.”
Matthew is crying when they part, big tears that leak slowly out of the corners of her eyes. She’s not sobbing, just sniffling, and Taeri tries very hard not to laugh at her, lest she accidentally clench down and keep Matthew’s dick inside for longer. Which would be fine—a little painful, but it’s a pain that’s just close enough to pleasure for it to be tolerable.
Still, she doesn’t chase the sensation, she doesn’t try to goad Matthew into fucking her again. She lets Matthew slip free, teasingly cooing, “Oh, Matthew, baby, was it too much for you?”
Glaring through her tears, Matthew retorts, “You also cried!”
“But I stopped!” Taeri grins back. The head pops free of her cunt. Taeri glances down quickly, shivering a little—it’s not as swollen as it gets in porn, but it still looks kind of puffy and slick. She shivers again, and then looks up with a grin. “Our Matthew is just so sensitive.”
She reaches forward and pinches Matthew’s cheek. Matthew, predictably, lets it happen, but still insists. “I’m not sensitive!”
“Oh, good,” Jiwoo interjects, gently pushing Taeri to the side. Taeri allows herself to be maneuvered, gleefully watching as Jiwoo surges forward to grab Matthew and fully pull her onto her lap. “I really, really wanna fuck you.”
Matthew splutters and goes red up to her ears. Her first protest is, of course, “Why not Taeri!?”
“She’s already had two orgasms. You’ve only had one. We’ve gotta get you caught up.” Jiwoo presses her answer into the crook of Matthew’s neck, nipping at the skin there. Matthew tries very valiantly not to shiver in her hold.
Still, she fights it, insisting, “I’m a top–”
“You are absolutely not!” Taeri squawks, personally offended, pointing at Matthew in disbelief. “You like getting fucked, you literally offered to ride this strap-on for us–”
“Only if you didn’t wanna take it!” Matthew points back at Taeri for no reason other than to also be pointing. Jiwoo’s teeth scrape along her jaw and Matthew’s eyes get hazy for a moment, but she shakes it off. “I am not a bottom bitch, I just fucked you so good, I am clearly a power top–”
Then, Jiwoo fists her hand in Matthew’s hair and pulls, and Matthew’s hands fall limply to her sides as she whines.
Taeri turns her nose up, triumphant. “You are a pathetic butch switch–”
“Pathetic seems a little harsh,” Jiwoo comments, laughing through it, a rich and adoring chuckle as she looks between them both. Matthew has put her whole face in her hands.
“And I fucking love you for it, you absolute idiot!” Taeri finishes, her volume close to a yell. “Baby, you’ve got nothing to prove to me! Let Jiwoo-unnie fuck you! I like watching you bottom! It’s hot! God damn!”
Matthew’s fingers part to reveal her eyes. Through the gaps in her fingers, Taeri can see a blush that extends all the way up into her hairline. “I don’t want unnie to fuck me on
my
strap,” she complains, petulant and small. "Taking your own dick is weird."
“Oh, don’t worry.” Jiwoo smacks a kiss to Matthew’s scalp and then gently deposits her to the side. “I brought my own.”
With a startling speed, Matthew shoots up to her feet, standing on the bed. “You what!?” She snaps, bouncing on her toes in her outrage. She’s still wearing the strap. It bobs between her legs like a drunk snake. “But your purse is so small– oh my god, is that why you insisted on me bringing a backpack? Did you hide your strap in my backpack?”
Jiwoo looks at her like she’s stupid. “Of course I did. I’m high femme, I can’t just go around carrying a backpack.”
Matthew drops to her knees, expression crushed as though her entire reality has been shattered. Taeri curls on her side, naked as the day she was born, and screams with laughter.
Someone slams on the wall. “Can you guys shut up!?” Their neighbour shouts, furious. “I’ll call the front desk if you keep making this racket!”
Jiwoo gives up on digging through the backpack and just grabs the entire thing. “Taeri, I’ll need your help for this one,” she says, eyes dancing, her smile so big and so bright. “Matthew’s kind of a screamer.”
“Oh fuck you,” Matthew sneers, but she still crawls over to Taeri’s side. “You heard the lady. Stop laughing and kiss me already.”
Taeri tries to. Really, she does. But she can’t catch her breath, tears streaming down her face, so eventually, Matthew loses patience and just kisses her first.
“You two look so good together,” Jiwoo sighs, pleased, and then she joins them on the bed.