somerealnerd

  Maybe the tears had worn her out. Seo-young lifted her head, eyes puffy and red, locking onto John for a shaky second before flicking away. Her right hand stretched out, fingers poised in a delicate pinch, like she was holding an invisible cigarette, a silent ask. She hated smoking, always wrinkling her nose at the haze John trailed, but here she was, asking for a drag. Min-jun’s betrayal had gutted her, pin as that. John paused, brain ticking. In his eyes, she didn’t want a smoke. This was a feint, a veiled plea for comfort, intentional or not. He stepped over, wordless, and sank onto the cot beside her, the frame groaning under them. One hand slid up her back, slow and gentle, tracing the curve of her spine, a touch that said I’m here, I’ve got you, a quiet signal in the haze.

  Did she catch it? Hard to tell. She turned her face, still streaked with tears, voice wobbling with that post-cry rasp. “Where’s my smoke?” John’s lips quirked, catching the real ask. She wanted him to step up, take the lead. He shifted, arm slipping around her shoulders now, pulling her in soft but firm, and that did it. Seo-young cracked, twisting into him, her head burying into his shoulder as sobs ripped out again, loud and messy. Her body angled awkward, legs still curled tight, so he eased them loose, coaxing those nylon-wrapped beauties over his thighs, her weight settling warm against him. Sure, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a chance to sneak a feel, those feet, right there, teasing his hands. Perfect arches, silk shimmering in the dim light, begging for a quick pinch. He almost went for it, fingers twitching, when she jerked her head up and—whack—unloaded a flurry of sps on his shoulder and back.

  “It’s you! All your fault! That stupid video, you made me film it! Min-jun must’ve snooped on my phone, found it!”

  She was in the stage of bargaining now, cwing for sense in the senseless. Bming that staged fingering clip they’d shot when John was trying to mess with her, like it had actually flipped Min-jun into this. Bullshit reasoning indeed. Even if they’d actually had sex that day, which they hadn’t, setting her up to get raped and killed? Framing John for a bullet? Fair py. John might’ve done worse in his shoes. But Seo-young was after all his girlfriend. Getting her raped and killed for this was way beyond overkill. He could just simply walk away, let her mourn her “new guy” by getting rid of John, and call it even. No, this wasn’t even revenge to be honest. Commissioner Miller’s dirty fingerprints were all over it, too. And Min-jun just saw her as expendable, a pawn for his climb. Cold, brutal truth, she knew it, and it was shredding her.

  John met those swollen, furious eyes, still gorgeous even now, and fshed his shit-eating grin, slow and deliberate. “So you liked that video, huh?” He skipped the obvious “Why’d you keep it?” as any “why” would sound like he was dodging bme, and that’d tank him. Not his mess, but he’d eat the hit anyway—gentleman’s move. Take the heat, then cim the prize: those nylon wrapped feet in his mouth at least, guaranteed.

  “What are you babbling about?! I just forgot to delete it!” Seo-young’s voice spiked, and she unloaded another barrage of sps on John’s shoulders and back, sharp, stinging whacks that echoed in the storage unit’s stale air. Her face twisted, less wrecked now, more like her usual pouty fury when she’d clock him for mouthing off. John caught it, and his mind flicked back to that night, where she filmed the video, her flustered gres, the way she’d squirmed. A soft chuckle slipped out, low and warm.

  “You’re still ughing? Still ughing?!” She doubled down, fists flying harder, nails grazing his jacket. He didn’t mind at all. Let her vent, bleed out the hurt. It would be good for her.

  But then his eyes dipped, snagging on those feet again, draped over his p. Prime real estate, silk-slick, teasing him senseless. She was too busy pummeling him to notice, so why not? His fingers darted out, brushing her sole with a feather-light flick, testing the waters. She yanked her foot back like he’d burned her, sps freezing mid-air. “What’re you doing, tickling me?”

  He just kept that zy smile, voice dipping into a mock-serious hum. “Heard foot massages melt stress away. Wanna give it a shot?” And Seo-young blinked, thrown for a sec, then muttered, “Uh… okay, sure. What do I do?”

  “Just sit there,” he said, sliding off the cot to crouch at her feet. “I’ll handle the rest. But… you might wanna take off those pants. Still got blood on them. I won’t peek, promise. Just grab that bnket, cover yourself up from the knees up.” She rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging her lips. “Oh, drop the act, you horny pig. You’ve already sucked my tits and fingered…” Her words tripped, catching too te, and she cmped her mouth shut, then socked him again, softer this time. Fingers hesitated at her waistband before she peeled off the suit pants slowly.

  John’s lucky today. Underneath? Bck pantyhose, sheer and sinful, hugging her legs like a second skin. The nylon shimmered, tracing every curve from her toes up, a tease that hit him square in the chest. His throat tightened, pulse kicking up, but he kept his cool, barely. He crouched there, hands itching to move.

  The massage kicked off, and John cradled her foot like it was spun gss, precious, fragile, the only thing worth a damn in this grimy storage unit. His fingers worked firm and steady, kneading her sole with a pro’s touch, his massage training humming through every press. His eyes locked on her, hungry, like she was some rare gem he couldn’t believe he’d unearthed. He swallowed hard, throat clicking loud in the quiet, fighting the wildfire licking up his spine.

  That hungry look again. Seo-young melted under it, tension bleeding out, repced by a slow, syrupy warmth. Her cheeks flushed pink, a sheen of sweat kissing her neck and tracing down her back. That leather jacket, his leather jacket, clung tight, zipper yanked high, trapping heat against her skin. Her wrecked T-shirt underneath left her no choice but to stew in it.

  “Lighter… go lighter, John,” she breathed, voice soft, almost a plea. “Okay,” John rasped, easing off. Inside, she cursed herself, wishing he’d crank it back up, that deep, stirring pressure that’d sparked her lust awake.

  No denying it, from any angle, tonight screamed for sex. Min-jun’s knife in her back, John’s bloody rescue, the brush with death, it all churned primal need, raw and animal. Biology didn’t care about heartbreak; it just roared louder after a fight for life. She squirmed, resolve hardening, then mumbled, “It’s… it’s tickling again. Heavier, please?” And John didn’t look up, just dug in harder, face still locked in that focused mask, eyes locking on her feet, gulping.

  He does whatever I say? Seo-young’s lips twitched. And it was time for her to py.

  “John, too heavy now. Ease up a bit.” Without a word, he softened his grip, thumbs circling gentle now. A sneaky giggle slipped out, her first ugh all night, soft and sly, lighting her up.

  She watched him, pliant and attentive, and a memory fred. Days back, he was smirking, tossing out “princess” like a jab at her naivety. Her face ignited, a scarlet wave crashing from her cheeks to her chest. Her belly tightened, heat pooling low, her vagina growing slick with the thought. John didn’t catch it though. He was too busy wrestling his own urges, gulping down the urge to groan as her foot’s faint sweat-and-sugar scent cwed at his nerves, ants skittering through his veins.

  “John… call me… that word,” she stammered, voice catching. He blinked, finally lifting his head, puzzled. “What word?” Their eyes crashed—his, wolfish, naked want bzing through; hers, wide and flustered, pulse hammering. “The… the one you mocked me with!” she pressed, flustered. “Sorry, what word?” he echoed, still lost.

  “The one where you said I’m naive!”

  And he finally got it. He tilted his head, testing. “You mean… princess?” She didn’t answer, and just stared, eyes rounding, a fierce little gre that only cranked her blush hotter. Cute as hell, gorgeous in that raw, unguarded way.

  “What the…” John faltered, hands stalling mid-massage, a rare softness creeping into his voice. “Well, you do feel like a princess to me tonight.”

  Seo-young had slogged through a hell of a day, betrayal, blood, the works, and John figured she’d earned more than his usual rough-edged jabs. Some kind words would soothe her, and that was what really mattered now. Truth was, he’d torn across town, feet shredded raw, just to pull her out of that mess. Saving a princess probably wouldn’t be so much different anyway.

  But this was not his style to gush at all. He scratched his nose, sheepish, and tacked on a grin. “Warning, though. No way I’m a fucking prince. If anything, I’m one of those scrappy little dwarves.”

  He braced for her ugh, expecting her to roll her eyes at his self-burn. But he’d misjudged. Those first words, raw and real, had already hooked her deep. Seo-young lunged, yanking him up from his crouch. Her lips crashed into his, soft, plush, electric, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him tight. John’s head spun, a flicker of déjà vu hitting: st time they’d kissed, she’d started it too.

  She’s really something.

  But her tongue, hungry and seeking, and the quick, heavy pants spilling from her throat wiped his smirk clean. No room for quips now. Through the leather, her full, yielding breasts pressed flush against his chest, a maddening tease that set his nerves abze. His hands fumbled, clumsy with want, tugging the jacket’s zipper down in a ragged scrape. Freed, he slid his arms inside, cinching her waist, warm, bare skin under his palms, pulling her closer still.

  Her hands drifted to his shoulders, pressing down with a soft nudge. He got the hint, lips trailing from hers, dipping slow to her neck. Each kiss sparked a shiver, a current zipping through her, prickling her skin with heat and itch. A tiny moan slipped out, breathy and sweet, egging him on.

  “Hey, princess,” he teased, voice a husky growl against her pulse, “if I leave marks, your Min-jun Oppa won’t mind, right?” Cssic John, nipping and sucking her neck, pyful barbs between kisses. She swatted his head, a half-hearted huff of annoyance, but the bliss of his mouth melted her fast. Her hand slid back, cradling him there, urging him on.

  “Just shut up and kiss me.”

  He painted her neck with a consteltion of red, kisses, bites, sucks, before drifting lower. Lips grazed her colrbone, slow and deliberate, then dipped to her chest. He buried his face between her soft, heavy tits, inhaling deep, like he could drink her scent whole. His mouth roamed, pressing quick, greedy kisses across the swell. Seo-young shrugged off the jacket, letting it pool on the cot, then fumbled with her bra, unhooking it, setting her big, lush tits free, bouncing lightly in the dim light. John didn’t miss a beat. His hands slid up from her waist, each ciming one, kneading firm and rough. He lifted his head, eyes glinting, and dove in, lips tching onto one nipple, then the other, sucking and swirling slow and hungry, trading off in a rhythm that had her arching.

  “Ahh—don’t suck so hard,” she gasped, words tumbling out, half-formed. John didn’t flinch, just kept going, lost in his own haze, mouth working her tits like it was all that mattered.

  John’s hands weren’t content to linger. They roamed down, tracing the taut pne of Seo-young’s stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her bck pantyhose. His fingers brushed past her underwear, diving deeper, finding her entrance, which was already slick, warm, and waiting. He moved fast, teasing and stroking her clit with deft flicks, spreading her wetness across every inch, coating her in her own heat. Seo-young’s gasps turned sharp, cries spilling out.

  John’s hunger roared louder, a memory smming him: st time, after fingering her, her scent had clung to his hands, haunting him. Now it flooded back, raw and real. He had to taste it. He didn’t wait. With a quick, rough tug, he ripped the crotch of her pantyhose, fabric splitting loud in the quiet. She jolted, a startled yelp escaping, but John gave her no time to catch her breath. He nudged her panties aside, diving in, mouth enveloping her entire crack in one greedy cim. His tongue shed out, pping slow then wild, darting inside her pussy with sharp little thrusts. Lips sucked hard, drawing out her juices, as he swallowed shamelessly, each gulp stoking the fire in his gut. Seo-young burned with shame and bliss. This feels so good, she thought, but her mouth fumbled, “Don’t… it’s dirty.” But her every word was drowned in want.

  John was past restraint. Since splitting with Miko, he’d been locked in this undercover grind, no release, no break, just pent-up ache. Now, Seo-young’s pussy, that heady mix of juice and piss, hit him like a drug, irresistible. His mouth worked faster, tongue relentless, chasing every shudder she gave him. She’d never felt this before, wave after wave crashing through her, primal and new. No more hiding it. “Ahh—fuck, I’m close, John. Keep going!” she moaned, legs swinging up, thighs locking around his neck, pulling him in. Her hands flew to her chest, cwing at her nipples, kneading and pinching with desperate force. It built, held, then broke. She came, a trembling, glorious mess.

  Seo-young sank back onto the cot, dazed, breath heaving in jagged bursts. Her big tits rose and fell, glistening with sweat, while the mess of her juice soaked the sheets beneath her. John stayed low, her legs slung over his shoulders, mouth still working, sucking hard, like he’d drain every st drop of her juice dry. She knew it—this night was just getting started. Her mind spun, half-guessing what he’d do next, when he straightened, shucking his pants in a rustle of fabric. He circled to her head, looming over her from above, upside-down, a wolfish glint in his eyes. His cock hovered there, stiff and bold, dripping precum in slow, silvery threads that stretched and fell, spttering warm across her cheek. “Time to taste my cock, princess,” he grinned, voice husky, “but I’ll take it slow.”

  She rolled her eyes, a flicker of sass, but parted her lips just a touch higher, inviting. John eased in, brushing the tip of his cock against her mouth, soft, teasing drags, then smirked down at her.

  “Asshole,” she huffed, a quick ugh bubbling up before she opened wider, welcoming him in. He steadied it, cautious, sliding just a fraction past her lips, gentle, like he’d break her if he pushed too far. Seo-young wasn’t having it. Impatient, she swatted his hand away, gripped it herself, and tugged it down, drawing his cock deep into her mouth. Her sucks were tentative, shy or clumsy, maybe, but to John, it was pure torture, a slow, delicious tease that lit him up. He groaned, head tipping back, as this was all too damn good.

  He grabbed her legs, now spyed ft, and hoisted them up. Restraint snapped, he pressed her bck-nylon-wrapped feet to his face, inhaling deep. The sharp tang of sweat mingled with the silky musk of her pantyhose, hitting him like a shot, making his cock throb harder in her mouth. Seo-young felt it swell, a pulse against her tongue. She wanted to mumble, my feet are dirty, but her voice muffled into wet, garbled hums, blocked by his rock-hard cock on her tongue. John didn’t care. He savored her, lips closing around each toe, sucking slow, tongue tracing the nylon’s weave. His fingers danced along her soles, tickling and firm, sending a jolt, itchy, tingly, wild, through her. Her pussy sparked again, gushing like mad, but pinned like this, she couldn’t do anything else but to keep sucking.

  So she upped her game instead, sucking faster, head bobbing to chase his cock. Her neck ached, straining. Feeling a bit frustrated, she spped his ass hard, a sharp crack. Move, damn it. And John grinned, reading her loud and clear. No holding back now, he thrust, fast and deep, his length pumping into her mouth, his balls smacking her cheeks with each drive. Every push hit her throat, her eyes fluttering white, a faint gag slipping out, half-choked, half-lost.

  He just called me Princess, and now he’s fucking my face like I’m a fucking whore, she thought, then smirked inside, wait, I asked for this.

  John, meanwhile, worshipped her feet, sucking those pantyhose-cd toes, lost in the taste, the feel, while still shoving his cock hard down her throat. It had been a day of running, bleeding, nearly dying. But now with her feet in his mouth and his cock in hers, today was worth every second now.

  John wasn’t pnning to shoot his thick, creamy load he’d saved up for days in her mouth, so he pulled out his cock from Seo-young’s mouth, and gave her a quick, tender kiss on the cheek, before he moved onto the cot, kneeling between her long, beautiful, pantyhosed legs, still kissing one of her feet and inhaling hungrily. In his intense yet tender gesture, Seo-young felt it all, his care, his need, his wanting. It made her feel seen, wanted, loved, something she rarely felt before. But his next move gave her a fright. He was rubbing the tip of his cock against her entrance, smearing it with her juice.

  “Wait… John. Condoms.” Seo-young murmured, her face flushed, hands reaching out to John as if she was trying to push him away. And John didn't wait one bit upon hearing the word, pushed his length all the way into her vagina, and started thrusting.

  “Ahh! Ahh—stop it, John!”

  But John didn't stop. Instead, he paced up his thrust, balls spping loud, each squelch between them made Seo-young’s toes curl. There was no way John would wear a condom for this, not when she still had a boyfriend, technically. John’s logic was simple. When doing it with a woman who still had a husband or a boyfriend, wearing a condom would spark his twisted curiosity of whether her partner used it too. If he didn't, then why would John wear one? If he did, then sucker for him, John was gonna fuck his wife raw. Either way, wearing a condom is simply not an option.

  Yep, fuck her raw, always fuck her raw if she’s someone else’s girlfriend or wife.1 DO NOT DO THIS IN REAL LIFE! This is just for the story. Ask first! The woman, not her husband!

  “John, ahh! We need to use condoms…” her voice was shaking with excitement, and she just couldn't hide her teasing moans. Hard to tell if she was really asking John to stop, or begging for more. John just grinned, “Nah, Seo-young, need to feel your princess pussy raw.” He then slowed down a bit, and leaned in, whispering in her ear, “ besides, Min-jun Oppa likes to sniff around, right? Let's give him something to sniff.”

  “What do you mean?” Seo-young was confused at his words, when John just sped up his piston motions again, hammering on her pussy, driving her senseless.

  “I mean the overflow on your underwear afterwards, princess.” And he didn’t pause at all after. He just dove his head onto her tits, mouth tching onto her left nipple, started sucking again.

  But his words struck her like lightning. Oh fuck, he's saying he's not just fucking me raw, but he’s gonna come inside me too…

  Of course he would creampie her. His cum gonna be hot and thick after days of no release, and there would be no better pce than her uterus to unload.

  The pleasure surging from her lower body drowned out any urge to overthink. Seo-young let go, her inner battle crumbling as she pinned John’s head onto her soft tits, head tipping back with loud, unfiltered moans, giving herself over to the moment. Feeling her response, John answered in kind. He lifted one of her feet again, pressing kisses to it, each one deliberate and warm. They went on like that, lost in hundreds of thrusts, until John couldn’t hold back anymore. He grabbed her tits hard, hands pinning her tight on the cot, and came all inside her pussy.

  But John didn't pull out, and just kept thrusting hard, as he was still far from satisfied. Each drive pulled out a milky mix of his own cum and Seo-young’s slick first, and then the mix was shoved back into her vagina.

  He kept it up, but this time he scooped both of Seo-young’s legs into his arms, hoisting her lower body high. Her pantyhose-cd beauties dangled in the air, swaying, while her head stayed pressed to the bed, neck arched, that pair of juicy tits jiggling hard. Her gaze locked onto their junction, every detail of his thrust crystal-clear in her view. “Hey, look Seo-young, I’m stuffing my cum back into your princess pussy. Don’t waste any, princess.” John teased with a grin, his voice dripping with mischief, while hammering her pussy from above. His words burned her with shame, hot, dizzying, and sparked a thrill that coiled tighter. “Min-jun Oppa ever done this before?” he tossed out next, needling her further.

  “Shut up, John!” she snapped, embarrassment spiking, trying to rein him in.

  Right then, the foldout cot hit its limit, groaning under their wild rhythm, and snap, it colpsed with a crash. They plummeted, but John’s reflexes kicked in sharp. He twisted mid-fall, curling down, one hand cradling Seo-young’s head to shield it from the impact. Lucky for them, the cot’s mattress spped the floor ft, keeping them both from spilling onto the concrete. John hovered over her, eyes scanning fast, checking for any harm. Seeing his worry, a warm flicker bloomed in her chest. Then she burst out ughing, bright and free. “That fucker certainly hasn’t done this before. You broke a bed, John.”

  She then kissed John on the lips, and y down onto the mattress, spreading her legs wide, exposing her pussy completely in front of John's eyes. Slowly, She ran her finger on her pussy lips, circling, inviting John to dive back in as she teased.

  “You mean you are gonna fill me up tonight, right? I’m all yours, John. Don’t back out now.”

  “Sure thing, my princess.”

  They kept at it until dawn’s first gray seeped through the storage unit’s cracks. Their bodies were slick with sweat, drying, then blooming fresh again, over and over. The air hung heavy with the musky scent of sex, thick and warm. Spent, they colpsed, tangled tight, curled up on the battered mattress. Seo-young nestled her head in John’s chest, her breath soft against his skin.

  “Go on, light one if you want,” she murmured, voice drowsy. “Don’t hold back. I’m used to it now.” John chuckled, low and zy, fishing a cigarette from the pack. He sparked it, took a slow drag, the tip fring red. Seo-young reached over, plucking it from his fingers, and stole a puff herself, lips brushing where his had been. “Not that bad actually,” she teased, exhaling a thin wisp. “Still not good enough to chain-smoke like you, though.”

  John stayed quiet, just soaking her in. She didn’t mind, words spilling on. “Gotta head back to the station after I wake up. Need to sort out things. Not sure if they’ll sp a warrant on you.” She pressed closer, her body molding to his, voice firming. “But don’t worry, John. Whatever happens, I’m always with you.”

  Then Her mind wandered. Should she nudge him about the future? Marriage means a lot in my culture, especially after the unprotected fun we had tonight. But is it too soon to ask if he’d ever…?

  She propped up, studying him, ready to test the waters, but then caught the faint rumble of his snores, face sck, a ghost of a smile curling his lips. He’d been out for a bit.

  “Asshole,” she huffed, half-ughing. That rexed look, though, softer than she’d ever seen, tugged a grin from her. She sank back down, arms wrapping tight around him, and let her eyes drift shut, sinking into sleep beside him.