The relationship between you and your long-time partner was a very loving one, make no mistake about that, but the things you occasionally brought into your fantasy world were a bit incomprehensible to other people. An alleged kink didn’t always have to be something physical—sometimes it had a lot more to do with the psyche, and you both got off to that pretty hard.
That was how you knew you were perfect for each other.
“Do you wanna go to an exhibit this weekend?” Minho asked while looking at his computer on the breakfast table.
You knew he would much rather take you paintballing because he loathed formal environments, which was why you were surprised to no end.
“Where did that come from all of a sudden?”
“We got an invitation,” he casually responded, but made sure the menace in his voice was apparent when he uttered the name, “From Hwang Hyunjin.”
“He did make it after all, huh?” you placed your coffee mugs on the table, as unfazed as you could be, “You’re not about to revisit your frat memories with him, are you?”
All of a sudden, something glinted in Minho’s eyes, and the color of his voice changed to a psychotically warmer shade.
“Maybe I am.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” your brows immediately furrowed, and the coffee pot in your hand looked a lot more dangerous than it should be.
“Remember the thing we were talking about?” Minho hugged your waist and made you sit down on his lap, “You wanna do it at his exhibit?”
You examined his face closely, his eyes in particular, to figure out whether this was just one of his sincere-sounding jokes, but he seemed like he actually meant it.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Very much so,” he zoomed in on the tastefully designed document on the screen, “Guess who else is invited?”
You skimmed the guest list written in a fancy cursive font to see if there were any familiar names, and yes. Yes, there was. Right under Minho’s. Your blood threatened to sublimate for how fast it started boiling.
“Not that cunt!”
“Hey, listen,” Minho caressed your back to pacify you, “You and I both know what a huge crush Hyunjin had on you back in college, and he doesn’t know we’re together. This could be the opportunity we have to put it to the test. What do you say?”
Well… what could you say? The people in question were at least familiar, and they were guaranteed to induce instant jealousy given the history you all shared. You grabbed your phone, opened the duplicate email you received, and RSVP’d Yes.
On the day of the exhibit, Minho got ready and left first when you were in the shower since you had agreed not to see what each other would look like beforehand. You spent a lot of time in front of the dressing mirror, trying out different fits and accessories, and after landing on the perfect combination that would annoy Minho the most, you headed to your destination.
Entering through the pretentiously ornate doors of the venue, albeit fashionably late, your eyes scoured the spacious room to find your target. It had been a hot minute since you last saw each other, so you weren’t even sure if you would recognize Hyunjin, or if he would recognize you for that matter.
There he was. Surrounded by a small crowd of people clad in obnoxiously high-end clothes with champagne flutes in their hands, looking much more handsome than you remembered him. Same tall posture but with much longer hair neatly tied up in a high ponytail, sporting the undercut he had, a sensual aura radiating all the way outside the exhibition hall, graceful as ever. He glanced your way when you landed in his peripheral vision, and once that eye contact was established, his scrumptiously full lips parted in utter surprise like he was not expecting you to come at all even though you said yes to his invitation. He excused himself with balletic poise and started walking towards you.
“Miss Maneater. You actually came,” he blasted his sultry charms at you at full force, “We meet again.”
He kissed your hand like the absolute gentleman he was, but you had some ulterior motives up your sleeve tonight.
“Come on, don’t be a stranger,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.
Minho may have called it a crush, but you knew for a fact that Hyunjin harbored something more for you back in the day. No, not love; this was much more reminiscent of something darker. You just knew you could have him bend to your will because of a wild night you shared together all those years ago. Because Hyunjin made it clear time and time again he was refusing to let that go.
But things had a way of changing with time.
“Oh wow,” you pointed at the plain gold ring he wore on his finger, “You got hitched.”
His cheeks got flushed as though you caught him doing something embarrassing, and he nodded in response.
“Is the missus here tonight?”
“No, she isn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I asked her not to come.”
“But why not?”
Hyunjin took one step into you and whispered into your ear like he was letting you in on a little secret.
“You know why not.”
But some things stayed the same even after all this time. That familiar weakness lacing his voice, your penchant for the lofty pedestal he put you on. It was all coming back.
A twisted smile appeared on your lips when you realized the firmness of the chokehold you still had him in.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” you murmured while placing the chastest of kisses on his cheek.
“I’ve missed you, too,” he heaved a deep sigh with his eyes closed, “A lot.”
And just like that, the man of the hour forgot the entire event thrown in his honor to spend time with you. He was getting bolder with all the champagne and less and less subtle with the touches he stole from you. He was very much openly hitting on you, and you were letting him.
Because Minho was doing the exact same thing with his ex in the other corner of the room.
The matter of the fact was you were both under siege by each other’s clandestine glares the entire night. Neither of you had any way of knowing the content of the conversations shared besides the packaging. The packaging made up of touches lent to these two people who had no business being anywhere near the love you had for one another. If it hurt that much, why were you even doing it?
Because it hurt so good.
Because the things you occasionally brought into your fantasy world were a bit incomprehensible to other people. The thrill was simply inexplicable.
You were burning alive with jealousy, but the more you felt the rage galloping in your veins, the sweeter you talked to Hyunjin. You praised his work. His success. How good he looked that night.
Minho brushing his thumb on that cunt’s cheek was the absolute last straw, and something loudly snapped in you.
“Do you ever think about our night together, Hyunjin?”
So out of the blue. The topic of the conversation was nowhere near it, but with the rate things were going on the other side, you needed a strong catalyst. He hesitated a bit, but thanks to the liquid courage he’d been downing, he eventually confessed.
“I’ve never stopped.”
“But you’re married now.”
“And?”
You chuckled. He said it so nonchalantly like, Yeah, I’m breathing, and?
“Do you do anything else while thinking about it?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m assuming you have a favorite part.”
“I do.”
“Care to divulge?”
His eyes devoured you from head to toe while clearly replaying that entire sequence in his mind, then finished his entire glass in one go.
“The part where your brain shut down, and you couldn’t say anything else besides my name.”
His satisfaction while uttering that sentence was apparent, but it was about himself rather than you. He took massive pride in this, so much so that he was obsessing over it even after all those years, most likely chasing the same high ever since.
Fucking exhibitionist attention whore.
“No one has ever made me cum that hard, you know?” you leaned in closer, “I think about your mouth between my legs a lot.”
That was a lie.
This was a really dangerous game you were playing with a potential to severely derail and leave multiple fatalities, but you didn’t give a shit. You didn’t give a shit if Hyunjin was about to pass out or not. You needed him to get visibly aggressive and you needed it now. The sick pleasure this whole thing was giving you was just too much
You could see that he was getting hard. You could see it all too clearly, and when you not-so-discreetly licked your lips while gawking at his crotch, he finally snapped.
“Listen, I actually stay at the hotel right across the street,” he gracefully propositioned, “Would you like to join me for a nightcap?”
“Just a nightcap?”
“I’m trying not to be crass here,” he nervously chuckled, “You know what I want.”
“Then say it,” you stared at him daringly, “Say what you really want.”
When Hyunjin leaned into your ear, you turned your attention to the love of your life in the distance, clearly still in the middle of seducing this bitch. It got to your head pretty bad seeing her play with the collar of his anthracite shirt, your favorite shit, and there was an endlessly entertained smile on Minho’s face even though he was looking right at Hwang Hyunjin’s hand wrapped around his girl’s waist.
“Come up to my room so I can eat your pussy again,” Hyunjin whispered into your ear, “For old times’ sake.”
Oh, this bitch… The reason you couldn’t go anywhere near Minho for the longest time, dragging the corpse of their relationship around for months on end, now laughing loudly with him, playing with her hair, touching his arms, even the corner of his lips…
“I’d love to,” you responded Hyunjin with an infinitely seductive smile.
His crooked grin took his final form upon your words. He kissed your hand and held it firmly, then you found yourself walking towards the exit with him.
Why… aren’t you… fucking… stopping me?
On your way out, you hit Minho’s shoulder with yours right at the last second, much harder than what was supposed to be an accident, and he finally went ‘Hey, man!’ to the alleged reason he came to this venue in the first place. Meanwhile, you were murdering the woman right next to Minho with your glare alone, but this was the only window you had to turn things around. You pretended your phone was ringing and excused yourself, then came back after talking to a ghost.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to leave immediately,” you touched Hyunjin’s shoulder, “Work emergency.”
“Oh,” he let out a disappointed exhale, “Well, can I at least give you a ride?”
“No need, I came with my own car. Please enjoy your evening,” you waved at him while taking quick steps towards the exit, “It was great seeing you again!”
You bolted out of there without even giving him a chance to ask you for your number or something and marched towards your rendezvous point with Minho, which was the hotel two blocks down. You checked in and went up to the room, but your hands were still shaking.
Minho arrived about fifteen minutes after you, and the first thing you did upon establishing eye contact was attack each other’s lips in sheer fury.
“Where the fuck was he taking you?”
“To his hotel room. For old times’ sake,” you scoffed shooting daggers at him, “Were you enjoying that cunt’s company way too much to come get your girl?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I saw her attempting to kiss you!”
“So what if she did? She was still much tamer than the Hwang motherfucker. You think I didn’t notice how he basically eyefucked you the whole night?”
“As he should have. Maybe I wanna see him again.”
“Do you want me to commit fucking murder?!”
“Maybe I do!”
“Maybe I will!!!”
It should have scared you when Minho punched the wall behind you and left a print in the shape of his knuckles, but you were laughing hysterically instead like you just lost your mind.
“He’s fucking married, Minho.”
“So?” he spat, not taking this as a legitimate reason at all, “As if I wouldn’t cheat on my wife with you in a heartbeat.”
“Don’t you dare say shit like that even hypothetically,” your laughter immediately stopped as if he cut it with a sharp blade, and you squished his face between your fingers, “I’m warning you.”
“You just imagined me being married to my ex, didn’t you?” he snickered, way too amused.
You pushed him towards the bed with all your might, but before you could straddle him, Minho trapped you under his frame and pinned your wrists above your head.
“You know she’s got nothing on you,” he kissed you desperately, yet it only took two seconds for his rage to come back, “but no one can touch my girl. No one is to look at you that carnally ever again.”
“And if they do?” you mockingly smiled at him.
“Then you owe me a lifetime of conjugal visits in prison. I’m not fucking letting anyone live.”
You basically ripped your clothes off of each other when he punctuated that sentence. You were so insanely wet that it was smearing against your inner thighs. He was so fucking hard that it didn’t feel like flesh under your touch at all.
“FUCK!!!”
“Say it!” Minho demanded while ramming himself into you mercilessly, “Say you’re only mine.”
“You fucking own me,” you scratched his forearms, “Say you love me.”
“I fucking worship you.”
The relationship between you and Minho was a very loving one, make no mistake about that, but every once in a while you fucked each other like you absolutely despised each other. Nevertheless, never to this extent. No kisses, but bites. No touches, but gropes. No moans, but screams. Kill ‘em with kindness, but make it lethal passion.
“He touched this hand, didn’t he?”
He grabbed your left hand, forced your palm open, and you watched his cum gushing out of his throbbing cock as his deep moans reverberated throughout the walls. So much of it. Just dripping down between your fingers, some of it splattering on your arm, on your stomach, even on your chest, and he loved the way he was properly reclaiming you.
“Now eat it,” he gave you a sloppy kiss before descending between your legs, “You’d better clean it spotless. I’ll check.”
Your cunt was already dripping, and Minho’s coat of spit on it only tripled the intensity of the wet sounds coming from you. He was eating your pussy with an unparalleled hunger because this wasn’t about tasting you anymore. He was ravishing you as if he was going to die, but it wasn’t enough. You weren’t screaming enough. You weren’t close enough.
“Claim me back,” he huskily spoke against your folds while slipping three fingers inside you, “You know how to mark me. Do it.”
Oh, the way his fingers reached that dead end inside you… It was nowhere near the fullness he could provide you, but still the closest thing you had to it. The man you deliriously loved disheveling his own face with your slick, tongue all over your pussy changing its mind every two seconds on where to lick you, lips sucking on your clit one moment then making out with your soaked folds the next, and his fingers dexterously beckoning that spring he knew was there…
“Minho!!!”
It finally popped, and you squirted all over his face. Minho not letting even one drop go to waste was the counterpart of him bleaching your hand with himself. Perfectly doused in each other’s bodily fluids, you kissed for a long time and finally collapsed for how fucking beat you both were, physically and emotionally.
“That was some bomb-ass sex, but maybe let’s not do this ever again,” you suggested, still trying to catch your breath.
“Agreed,” Minho loudly exhaled, then turned to his side towards you, “So when can you dress up as a maid for me then?”
Exxxtraoddinary? Appreciate with a pudding.
© 2024 Feelfolio.
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