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chineseinkSo you know how I was talking about writing a Donghae hetsex fic? Yeah, well. I did. And it took bloody forever because for some strange reason women didn't want to take their clothes off? What. Yeah, I don't understand it either.
Um, be warned for LOTS AND LOTS OF NC17-WORTHY GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF HET SEX. Lots. More than trashy romance novels. Maybe closer to actual porn, though I would not know, never having had to peruse real porn when fandom provides me with free stuff. But, yes, I know SuJu is a predominantly slash-oriented fandom sooo beware. Lots of VERY GRAPHIC detailed scenes of Donghae sexin' up a woman. You know. One of those. What most of us are.
Hey, if it helps: pretend it's you! (The joys of writing hetfic, ohoho.)
So, think I have enough warnings yet? DONGHAE/GIRLS, NO SLASH FOUND HERE. Just to be safe. Oh, for the record, not all the girls are OCs. You will recognize most of them.
(Though,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
taylormercury, if you don't recognize a tribute to the biggest Donghae fangirl I know, I am dispossessing you of your crown!)
Thanks topapered and black_goose for listening to me whine about Donghae not moving fast enough, and thanks to magicmelodyx for supporting my Donghae/5 different girls plan! It was a great plan, if I do say so myself.
Final note: WTF why is this 6310 words of het porn?! OTL
Keepers of This Art
Super Junior, Donghae/girls, NC-17, 6310 words
Five times Donghae has sex with a woman.
Keepers of This Art
bymeiface
Donghae couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex. Being an idol, he thought ruefully, was sometimes not all it was played up to be. Sure, there was fame, but fame came with prices: not being able to go out any time he wanted, not being able to see anyone he wanted, and so on. He had never really minded because he'd had a good idea going in that the life of an idol was not as glamorous as it seemed - but he'd done it anyway because it was his dream. He wasn't so fickle that he'd give up his dream so easily, just because it was different, harder, from what he'd once expected.
He wouldn't give up this dream just because he couldn't remember the last time he’d had sex, he laughed. That would just be ridiculous.
But he was a healthy twenty-three-year-old guy. He had needs. He could put them on the backburner for only so long - and management knew that. They tended to look the other way if one of their idols acquired a girlfriend, or just went out for the night, provided that said idol took care to be discreet and this kind of thing didn't happen too frequently. Donghae remembered the talking-to Youngwoon had gotten in their earlier days.
“Try not to cause a scandal, will you?” their manager had said to him, exasperated.
Come to think of it, Heechul had gotten quite a dressing-down too... Donghae, however, had always taken care to be discreet. He had always been pretty popular with the girls even before debut, even before his trainee days (though he wasn't sure middle-school flirtations really counted), but he had his priorities in order, the memory of his father clutched close to his heart: this dream first. Never do anything so stupid as to put it in jeopardy.
A night out was fine. Even he thought he deserved one once in a while, after months of lessons and rehearsals and filming and putting up with everyone else's sexual frustration (or occasionally their even more grating smug looks when they'd finally gone and had their night out). It had been months - Donghae couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex, and he figured it was about time again. He had been getting antsy lately, his temper shorter, a sort of restlessness eating him up from inside. When he realized he had been halfway aroused at the sight of his bandmates’ bare skin (a typical sight in the dorms), he'd realized it was definitely time to get out.
So, he thought, surveying the scene before him, here he was. The club was dark, lit with frequent flashes of neon light, changing from red to green to purple and back. Donghae wasn't sure he even liked this kind of club except for the fact that, in this kind of darkness, it was much harder for people to recognize faces such as his. The pulsing lights provided only the briefest glimpse of bodies, writhing, twined, packed in too close on the dance floor. The heavy odor of smoke eclipsed any underlying scents: sweat, cologne, perfume - souring in the warm mix of bodies and not enough ventilation.
Donghae glanced over at Jongwoon and Zhou Mi, tonight's partners-in-crime, and grinned. His teeth flashed too-bright in the darkness. He pushed himself away from the bar and slid off his stool. “Let's go, hyung,” he said, pitching his voice low to be heard under the music.
Jongwoon returned the grin. “First one to get lucky gets fifty points. Whoever goes home alone...” he paused for dramatic effect, then finished, “...reports to Heechul the new stats.”
“I know how it works, hyung.”
Donghae wasn't fond of the way his hyungs played the game, but he was dutiful enough about reporting back. It was mostly harmless, in any case, and hearing Heechul gloat and tease Siwon (who was appalled at the game yet always ended up participating anyway) or Youngwoon or the others was always entertaining. Donghae didn't really play to win, but if he got sex out of it, he figured that was more than good enough.
Zhou Mi grinned at him and squeezed his arm, then melted off into the darkness. Donghae wiggled his fingers at Jongwoon and did his own disappearing act, sliding onto the dance floor with practiced ease. Bodies pressed up against his almost immediately; there was no such thing as personal space here.
For the first few minutes, he let himself relax into the music, the bass thrumming through his body. It was simple to lose himself to this dance, unchoreographed, unpracticed, but as natural as sex. His body knew what it was doing; he had a god-given talent, an inborn instinct - his hips rolled, languid, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes briefly.
He didn't recognize the song, thought it might be in English. It didn't matter, as long as he could dance. Rhythm, heartbeat, breath - one after the other as the music pounded around him, through him. Donghae opened his eyes in a flash of neon pink and across the crowd caught sight of Zhou Mi wrapped up in the arms of a girl significantly shorter than him. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and Donghae could only see a sheen of sweat across her bare shoulders and back as she wound her arms around Zhou Mi's neck and pulled him toward her.
A flash of darkness, then green light, and they shifted. Donghae almost laughed. He recognized her - and it was just like Zhou Mi to find the one unattached Chinese trainee at SM and zero in on her.
Victoria Song, Donghae remembered, calling to mind her shy smile and perfunctory bow from when he'd first met her. A hand slid over his hip and thoughts of her fled as he turned his head.
Hello, said the girl's smile, slow and pointed. She was tall, maybe taller than him in her heels, or maybe it just looked that way with her miles and miles of long leg exposed by her short black shorts. She crowded into the scant space in front of Donghae so smoothly he barely noticed; he was caught by the way her hair brushed her shoulders, the way she filled out her low-cut red plaid top, the glint of her dangling hoop earrings.
She wasn't his type. Donghae didn't like the bold, brazen ones. He was attracted by an air of sweetness, of femininity, with a hidden sly side. He liked girls whose smiles lit up the room, whose every touch felt like winning a prize he'd never dared hope to win. Donghae still believed in fairy tales, and he wanted to be a girl's Prince Charming.
Girls like this were waiting for no knight-in-shining-armor. She was confident, almost cocky, pressing into Donghae and adjusting her stance so a leg slid between his. Skin was on show as if for free and her jewelry gleamed and flashed in the bursts of light.
“What's a boy like you doing in a place like this?” she mouthed into his ear, her painted lips brushing skin. Her voice was low, sultry - faintly accented. A foreigner?
She wasn't his type but, still, he was interested. He fitted his hands on her hips and tugged her a little closer, smiling when she pulled back to look at him.
“Waiting for a girl like you,” he suggested, an edge to his smile.
He knew he was generally pinned as the wholesome, childlike member - and Donghae didn't deny that he preferred laughter and pranks to whatever serious and boring pastimes the other members liked to indulge in. But when it came to sex...well. Donghae couldn't remember the last time he had sex, but it certainly wasn't because he couldn't get any. He had plenty of options.
Her chest moved sinuously against his in time to the music. Her eyes, glittering and dark under her heavy mascara, watched him carefully. She bit lightly at her bottom lip, a hint of even white teeth against red.
He wanted to laugh. She was so obvious. But she knew what she wanted, he'd give her that, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested. “Oppa,” she murmured, and he couldn't hear her under the music, but he could read her lips. Heat sparked through him, sudden and welcome.
It had been a while.
Donghae slid his hands from her hips up her side, brushing against her bare midriff then over her top. His hands came to a rest on her bare shoulders and, with little warning, he spun her around in the crowd until he framed her, his front to her back.
“Let's dance,” he whispered into her ear, amused by the turnabout. She responded with a breathy sigh and rubbed her backside into his crotch. His blood rushed south and he pulled her flush against him as her head tilted back onto his shoulder.
He eyed the length of her throat and licked his lips. Maybe brazen could be good sometimes.
“Name?” he asked, because he was still Donghae. He couldn't fuck nameless girls the way some of his hyungs and Kibum could.
Her lips parted. “Maika.”
Japanese. He let his hand flutter against her midriff, still rocking his hips against hers. Interesting.
“Donghae,” he said simply.
She smiled and dropped her hand atop his, holding it to her bare stomach, warm. He was hard against her now and he knew she could feel it. “Donghae-oppa,” she said, staring up at him under lidded eyes. “Yes, let's dance.”
***
He took her back to his dorm, because neither of them could afford being spotted entering a hotel by the media. There was always the risk of nosy roommates and band members, of course, but it was a risk Donghae thought worth running in consideration of the alternative. Besides, if his bandmates didn't respect his sex life, he'd have every excuse to burst in on them as noisily and nosily as he wanted. He smiled to himself and ducked into the elevator, hoping no one would think twice about two friends, fellow entertainers, getting into the elevator one after the other.
“Donghae-oppa,” Sunye said, reaching a hand out to stroke up his arm. Her hand came to a delicate perch on his shoulder, hesitant, as she looked sideways at him.
God, he wanted to press her against the elevator wall and kiss her hard, maybe even take her there. His blood rushed at the thought and he couldn’t help picturing her flushed, disheveled as he held her up against the side of the elevator, her legs long, bare, and hitched around his waist as he—
Donghae let out a long, slow breath. “Just a little longer,” he said with a tilt of his head and his best boyish smile. He tried thinking unsexy thoughts to calm himself down - gross bathrooms, his middle-aged manager naked, Hyukjae’s feet, ew - there was no way he could take her on an elevator: there were cameras there. Everywhere. He had to get her safely into his room before he could strip off her clothes, piece by piece...
His eyes drifted down her neck and lingered on her collarbone before dipping slightly towards the swell of her breasts. Her top wasn’t particularly scandalous, a pink-and-white striped button-up over a fairly tame tank top that showed off only the barest hint of cleavage. He was just - he caught himself and flicked his eyes back up. She was watching him, a knowing look in her eyes.
He was just horny, that was all. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish laugh. He felt inexperienced and young, suddenly.
Her hand patted his shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied, her own lips tugging in a smile. “It’s...flattering.”
When the elevator finally arrived on the twelfth floor with a ding, Donghae grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall after him. She followed him, breathless, and they kicked off their shoes in the entryway, excited and rushed and feeling like children falling over themselves.
“Yo,” someone shouted from the living room and Donghae didn’t even register who the voice belonged to before he burst into his room, Sunye in tow, relieved that Shindong was evidently elsewhere for the night.
“Just a sec,” he said and flung through his closet for a sock - dirty, clean, it didn’t matter - before snatching one up and draping it haphazardly over the doorknob. Then he carefully eased the door shut and turned around to find Sunye sitting on his bed, laughing at him. He blushed and shrugged.
“That’s so...college-like,” she said, amused.
Donghae self-consciously rubbed the back of his head. “Well,” he offered, slightly embarrassed, “we do live in the dorms. It’s the best I can do on short notice...and as long as it works.” He smiled at her and the atmosphere changed, suddenly electric again. He could feel pricks of awareness dance along his skin and suddenly breathing became an incredibly erotic activity.
Sunye looked at him, head tilted slightly up, her bangs feathering into her eyes. There was no artifice to her pose - she was a strong leader, charismatic and well-spoken, but now she was nothing but a girl with simple desires. Her fingers slid anxiously over the bedspread beneath her, a tiny telltale sign of nervousness. In every other sense it looked only as if she were waiting for him to hurry up and get his act together.
It was the little gesture that imbued Donghae with a rush of affection. He had never been close to any of the Wonder Girls, not when they were under a different company, but he had always liked her when they’d talked. Had always thought she was pretty. Sexy. He had never thought she'd let him...
“Sunye-yah,” he said, voice suddenly a little rough, and then he crossed the space between them and kissed her like he’d wanted to kiss her in the elevator. He kissed her deeply, bending her back over the bed, swallowing her gasp, tongue slipping into her mouth with little ceremony. She was warm, soft - he was heady with the feel of her, her hands slipping and sliding over his back.
He kissed her and kissed her until she shifted and moaned and lay back on the bed, pulling him along with her until he was straddling her, leaning over her with his arms by her head, propping himself up. He wrenched his mouth away for moment, breathing heavily, staring into her eyes. They looked back, dark with lust. “Donghae-oppa,” she said, a tiny whine to her tone, impatient. Her legs moved under him, spreading.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said into her throat instead, dipping his head to mouth at her skin, damp with sweat. His tongue flickered out and in.
“You’re a flirt,” she accused him, half-giggling. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He lifted his head momentarily to smile widely at her. “Only the pretty ones,” he promised.
She laughed again and her hands slid down his sides, then back up, under his shirt. He shuddered at the feel of her palms skating over bare skin, her fingers curving one-by-one, deliberate. “Sunye-yah,” he breathed again, and kissed her jaw, her nose, her mouth again. “Can I - can I?” His hands paused, waiting, at the edge of her tank top.
She flushed. “You know you can.” Her voice was soft but steady. She was certain, and they’d come this far already. He was privately pathetically grateful because he never wanted to be the kind of guy who would force a girl, and he never would be if he could help it, but it would’ve been so hard to stop. Not when she was looking at him like that, strangely vulnerable and trusting, lifting her arms so he could pull off her button-up shirt, then help her strip off her tank top.
Her bra was satiny white, trimmed with pink lace and punctuated with a small pink bow right between her breasts.
“Oh god,” Donghae groaned, feeling his cock harden. “Sunye—” He pressed her back against the bed with a needy kiss, one hand splayed next to her head and the other coming up to cup a breast. The weight was soft and warm against his hand, a tickle of lace and the smoothness of her skin. His cock twitched.
Her laugh against his mouth was breathy, almost startled, when he gave her breast a gentle, playful squeeze. He lifted his head slightly to grin at her. He liked it when she laughed.
“I never knew you were hiding such girly lingerie under your super fashionable clothes,” he teased.
Her flush may have been due to his words, or they may have been due to the fact that his hand had abandoned her breast to sneak between her thighs. His fingers flirted with the hem of her skirt, touched briefly on the skin of her inner thighs. She trembled slightly.
“I’m pretty girly,” she admitted as her head fell back on the pillow. She moved under him and her legs spread again, a little wider. He swallowed a groan, hardening further. “Oppa...” The word was little more than a sigh, a please.
Donghae had never been one to turn down an invitation. Nipping at her throat, teasing a small whimper out of her, he trailed his hand along her thigh and under her skirt.
***
She was wet.
He muttered a little “Fuck,” under his breath, heat flushing through him as he slid his fingers, slow and careful, over her damp panties.
“I-I’ve never heard you swear,” she said, somewhat dazed, as she swallowed little whimpers and clutched at his shoulders.
Donghae looked down at her, tousled, undone, aroused. “Only when I’m mad or lose my composure,” he managed to say thickly around the sudden want choking him. She looked - he made an internal face at the term, but nothing else quite fit - wanton. Wild for it, her eyes too-bright, her mouth kiss-swollen and red. “My accent comes out too,” he added nonsensically, and then twitched his fingers along the line of her clit.
Yuri shuddered under him. “Oppa,” she cried, fingers digging into him.
He bit his lip and tried to think, when all his blood pounded between his legs, insistent on only one thing, and his head whirling with alcohol. Strip her and fuck her.
But. He had to be more gentle than that. Donghae had had his fair share of experience and, well, he’d certainly had fun every time - but he wanted to make sure she did too. He wanted to make her feel good. Especially if it was Yuri, whom he had something of a soft spot for. They’d always been good friends and they probably wouldn’t have ended up in bed together if not for the alcohol but still, hazily, underneath the soju-induced fog in his mind, Donghae wanted Yuri to want it, and like it, and god he wanted to see her come.
He groaned at the mental image and pulled her to him, on her side. “Yuriiii,” he mumbled into her cheek. “Yuri-yah, Yuri-yah.” He laughed and felt her pull him closer, pressing her lips against his.
“More,” she demanded against his mouth, through kisses, “oppa, more. Please.” The next kiss was long, desperate, and Donghae felt himself unravel a little. His fingers dug slightly harder against her skin, warm and damp. He stroked firm circles through her panties, thumb sliding along her clit until she trembled and gasped and moaned.
“Oppa,” she repeated faintly, “oppa, oppa—”
Part of him wondered drunkenly if she even meant him anymore, when oppa could mean so many. Anyone.
She caught his lip between her teeth, drew it into her mouth, and sucked. He decided he didn’t really care. His fingers slid under the edge of her cotton panties and he thought he might come from the intense rush of touching her there alone. “Shit,” he rasped and dimly he could hear his accent come out.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, Yuri-yah,” he babbled. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, but maybe it didn’t matter when his fingers are there, and she was hot and wet and slick and clutching at him. Her hips bucked towards him, impatient, needy. “I...” Donghae couldn’t finish, mind in too many places at once in a dizzying rush of drunkeness and arousal.
His hips met hers and he ground his erection against her as he kissed her thoroughly. He didn’t need words, not when he could have this instead, the heat of her mouth, the tinge of alcohol on her tongue, and his hand trapped between her thighs, stroking her. Her skirt was caught up around her waist now, tangled and ruched. Frustrated, he let his hand slip away with mild regret to come to a rest on the waistband of her skirt.
Thank god for elastic, he thought as he pulled the skirt down past her hips, letting it tangle briefly around her knees before she kicked it off. She wriggled against him and he moaned as she kissed his throat, bit at the juncture where his neck met shoulder. His palms slipped under her panties and cupped her ass, following the curve.
“Off,” she ordered breathily, and he complied.
Her bra came off next, flying haphazardly across the mostly-dark room, and then she was naked. Somewhere under the swirl of alcohol and lust, Donghae took a moment to pause and just look at her. She was long and lithe, a dancer’s body in idol skin. She grasped the edge of his shirt and yanked at it, tugging it over his head as he lifted his arms in a daze.
“Oppa,” she said again, and maybe he would never hear his name from her lips, but that was okay. She’d pushed him back on his back and climbed on top now, her skin wreathed in golden lamplight and playful shadows, revealing teasing glimpses of mysterious places Donghae wanted to touch, kiss, lick. His eyes glazed over with lust and he reached out for her.
“Let me,” he husked, sounding so unlike himself, and then he’d rolled them over and pinned her to the bed.
“Let me,” he said as his hand snaked its way back between her legs, which fell open to his lightest touch. She was ready, god, and so willing, her nipples dusky and hard. He lowered his mouth to one, pleased at her little cry as his fingers moved searchingly between her legs.
He sucked and teased her breast with a scrape of teeth, a soothing tongue, until she bucked against him, panting and whimpering. Her long hair spilled over the sheets, sweat-dampened strands clinging to her skin.
Donghae wanted. He wanted this. He wanted her.
His cock throbbed as he panted into her neck, nudged his hand a little further between her legs, and slowly pressed his middle finger into her.
Her moan was shaky and broken, her fingers wrapping into the white sheets and clenching, tension thrumming along the entire line of her body.
“Shh,” he whispered, “shh, baby, let me—” He distracted her with light kisses, teasing and feathered across her face and chest, taking time to swirl his tongue around the other nipple as he, painstakingly slowly, crooked his finger.
The moan was longer this time, escaping breathlessly from her throat. He’d never heard her so sexy, seen her so in pieces, sweaty and perfect and beautiful. He just wanted to make her feel good, and he smiled as her muscles clenched and her toes curled.
“I just want to see you come,” he breathed in her ear, voice low and rough with his Mokpo accent, with desire.
“N-not yet,” she gasped.
***
She pulled away and he was suddenly disoriented, feeling shy. His heart beat an uncertain rhythm in his chest - had he done something wrong? He wasn’t experienced, not really, definitely not as much as she was. He probably wasn’t as skilled as most of the men she’d slept with before.
Donghae still wasn’t sure why Hyori-noona had chosen to sleep with him. The whole thing was still a little surreal to him, even now, as he laid on her hotel bed in nothing but his black boxer-briefs. And she...she was gloriously naked and unashamed. Her golden skin gleamed lightly in the low lights - mood lighting, she’d explained to him earlier with a twinkle in her eye and a chuckle.
It was like she was toying him, really. He didn’t understand. But he couldn’t really complain, could he? Not when she kissed him like that, slow and languid, unhurried. Hyori was in no rush; she didn’t care if Donghae was sporting a painful-looking erection through his briefs, leaking a damp spot into the fabric. It only amused her.
“Eager, aren’t we?” she teased as her hand cupped him lightly and his hips jerked involuntarily.
“I,” he said, cheeks reddening. “Um. Noona is very attractive,” he offered, embarrassed and glancing up at her through his bangs.
She laughed, throaty, and slowly applied pressure against his cock until he gasped, shuddering. His voice caught in his throat.
“You’re adorable,” she sighed, eyes still creased with her smile. She leaned in to kiss him and behind his closed eyes he could sense her shifting her position. He focused the best he could on the kiss - Donghae was a good kisser, he knew that. He might not have been as experienced as she was in the bedroom, but he’d at least done his fair share of kissing. His tongue found hers and curled, then drew back, playful and a little taunting.
She was smiling when she drew back. “I do so like you, Donghae-yah,” she said and kissed him again, light and perfunctory against his lips. “So cute.”
“Noona,” he said and it came out a little plaintive. His eyes opened to find her on her hands and knees over him. His cock, already painfully hard, jerked slightly and his eyes unfocused as he took in the heavy swell of her breasts, dangling over him, and her tanned stomach...
And, and that little thatch of dark hair, still black and not dyed like the hair tumbling over her shoulders now. He’d touched her there, touched lower, where she was hot and slick and he’d made her moan. His life was surreal, Donghae decided, a slight ringing in his ears as he stared at the ceiling. He’d touched Lee Hyori. He was having sex with one of the sexiest women alive.
“Let’s get you naked,” Hyori murmured and suddenly he found her head was level with his chest. She trailed her lips down the planes of his skin, grazing and never quite applying enough pressure. Donghae whined slightly in his throat, wriggling unhappily under her.
“Noona,” he breathed, pleading, as she followed the thin trail of hair down his bellybutton and paused at the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
Her eyes flashed in the dim lights and his hips rocked fitfully when she gently applied her teeth the the elastic of his briefs and slowly eased her way downward. The ringing in his ears had grown louder, drowning out the slightly incoherent thoughts in his mind. Holy mother of god, Donghae thought to himself and he swore his eyes crossed as her warm breath ghosted over his cock.
He nearly came when she pressed a sweet, close-mouthed kiss to the crown and clenched his fists, eyes slamming shut as he fought with his every fiber not to be the silly, inexperienced boy she had once tried to sleep with but had failed because he had come too early. His body shook with suppressed desire but the white-hot tension passed, and Donghae dared to open his eyes. Hyori sat back on her heels, looking at him with a fond expression.
“Adorable,” she said.
Her lips glistened with his precome and her eyes were hooded and dark with something quite different from fondness, however.
It was like an electric jolt to Donghae’s system, heat and desire nearly overwhelming him.
He scrambled to sit up and pull his briefs off, tossing them over the side of the bed carelessly. “Hyori-noona,” he said, reaching out to pull her into his arms. “Noona, you’re so pretty.” He kissed her before he said something stupid, because he didn’t know what he was saying anyway. Gently, he pulled her to the bed and rolled her to the side so he was cradling her in his arms, and she was smooth and warm as he kissed her, more and more frantically.
His hands slid up and down her body, fervent, gliding over her back, pausing to grip her ass, trailing down her thighs. His heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear the ringing in his ears anymore.
She moaned, soft, a little breathless, and Donghae was delighted at the sound. To think he’d done that. He kissed her again, stroking her wet folds, fingers slipping around her center.
“Donghae-yah,” she panted, and he thrilled again. He kissed her neck, bent his head lower, wrapping his mouth over her nipple.
She arched back and moaned again and his cock leapt against her leg, so hard he hurt.
“Donghae-yah,” she said over his bent head, “do you want me to suck your cock? Do you want me to put my mouth on you and make you see stars when you come?” Her voice was throaty, sultry and sexy, and Donghae had to take a steadying breath against her breast before he could lift his head to answer.
“No,” he said firmly, gazing into her eyes intently. “No, noona. Why don’t you let me put my mouth on you?”
There was a sharp intake of breath and then she - she shivered and Donghae grinned, a new edge to his smile. Wordlessly, he slid down between her legs, pulled them apart gently, and then he just stopped. Stopped and looked at her until she was nearly writhing in anticipation, every line of her body impatient and crying for his touch.
“Donghae,” Hyori said, voice imperious.
“Noona,” he replied.
“Donghae,” she repeated, this time voice dropping a register, coaxing.
He smiled wickedly and dipped his head between her legs, arranging them over his shoulders, and then he kissed her there. He licked her and teased her and tongued her until she came to pieces, a shuddering, panting wreck, her fingers tight in his hair.
As she lay there catching her breath, she looked at him with a quirk of her eyebrow. “You’re more than you let on, Lee Donghae,” she told him. Her tone was almost wry. He grinned and gave her breast a quick kiss.
“I’m just willing to learn,” he replied cheerfully.
She smiled then, and wrapped her hands around his cock. The groan wrenched itself from his throat, unbidden. “Let’s learn then,” she purred.
***
She put the condom on with trembling hands. He watched her, too nervous to reassure her, too turned on to help her out. He sat as still as he could until she had rolled it on, then glanced up at him with wide, dark eyes, and his breath stilled in his lungs.
She wanted him, Donghae could tell, but she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that desire. She needed him to lead her and he, he needed to be that for her.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her quietly. “Jessica, you’re the most beautiful girl I know.”
He laid her down gently, and he couldn’t promise that his hands weren’t shaking as well. He hoped fervently that he was doing this right, hoped he could live up to his earlier whispered promise that he wouldn’t hurt her. Donghae squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and then opened them again, trying for reassuring even though he had very little idea what he was doing.
“Don’t worry,” he said and kissed her.
Her mouth was sweet, still, even after he’d been kissing her for an hour. Maybe more. He remembered the first time he’d kissed her, unsure and hopeful, fallen headlong into something like love. Her eyes had lit up when he’d finally pulled away to look, even though a blush had stained her cheeks. She’d smiled, though, and he’d kissed her again. Then again and again, and when she’d kissed back, he’d thought he could die happy.
Her smile was shaky at best now and his heart lurched because, this girl. There was something about her. “I know,” she whispered, winding her arms around his neck. “It’s fine, just...just do it.”
She was lay bare beneath him, every perfect inch of her a feast for his eyes. He’d kissed her everywhere, touched her, licked her, made her moan and tremble and turn blindly towards him, holding him desperately. She’d kissed him too, tentative at first, more surely after time. She’d made him fight not to come at the delicate, uncertain swipe of her tongue against his cock, before he’d drawn her back and told her no, not now, maybe later, it’s okay. That could wait. This - he wanted this. It was his first time, and hers too, and it could be theirs together - this perfection, this unity, everyone talked about. He could barely contain his excitement.
Donghae eased himself between his legs, one hand guiding his cock towards her entrance. She bit her lip and managed a smile when he glanced at her. He pushed his tip in and paused, anxious.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, still smiling encouragingly, fingers twisted in the sheets. “Keep going.”
He pushed in as gently as he could, fighting every urge to just slam inside, and just - just fuck her like his body was clamoring - but he could see the tiny line between her brows forming as she fought to keep from making a sound.
“Jessica,” he said, not quite sure it was his own voice he was hearing, “Jessica, if it hurts - if it’s that bad, I can—” Stop? Try something else? He didn’t know how to finish but maybe it was for the best, because her eyes came around to meet his, flashing.
“No,” she said fiercely, the strongest burst of emotion he’d seen in her tonight. “Keep going.”
And he did. He pushed into her, trying to be gentle, but he was caught up in the feeling, the onslaught of pleasure and desire and - his heart stepped up double-time. God, she was hot and tight and he wanted her so badly. Donghae shuddered violently, fighting himself not to rock his hips.
But suddenly she turned towards him, reaching out and sliding her fingers through his hair, tugging his head towards hers. She kissed him, deeply, desperately, and rolled her hips against his. Her breath carried a soft whimper into his mouth.
It broke the dam. What little control he’d had snapped.
Donghae kissed her as his hips pulled back and then rocked forward, sliding into her. She let out a little cry and he swallowed it, kissing her salty skin, damp with sweat and something else, as he thrust in and out of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she kept her hands buried in his hair, keeping him close to her as he groaned and grunted and fucked her as hard as his body demanded.
The pleasure built, an intense and inescapable wave, until it crashed over him, a moment of ohgodfuckyes and he groaned and collapsed onto her, legs shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure rocking through him.
Her fingers slid from his hair and he thought she might have been trembling still.
He wished he could have seen her face when she came, Donghae thought distantly, regretfully, breathing hard and trying to get his heart rate to return to normal.
Long moments passed and then he lifted his head. “Jessica?”
His heart clenched when he saw her tears. “Jessica?” he whispered but she pushed him off her, abruptly, and he slid out of her, feeling boneless and strange. The world felt tilted, skewed, as he watched her roll away on her side, back towards him. Her bare shoulder hitched. She was crying.
Donghae reached for her, sliding an arm around her. He didn’t know what to say. What’s wrong? I’m sorry? Was it enough? What did it mean?
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, unsurely.
She was silent for a long time. “It...wasn’t what I expected,” she whispered at last, the words so faint he had to strain to hear them. She shifted away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, back still turned against him.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I’m...I’m sorry,” he offered lamely, because he didn’t know what the right words were.
She didn’t reply.
It wasn’t until later, when she slipped out of bed, still naked, and padded off to the shower, that he noticed the blood.
He resumed staring at the ceiling, a heavy feeling in his chest.
It wasn’t what he’d expected either.
Donghae couldn’t imagine the next time he’d have sex.
--
Started/Finished: 2009.06.04
Um, be warned for LOTS AND LOTS OF NC17-WORTHY GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF HET SEX. Lots. More than trashy romance novels. Maybe closer to actual porn, though I would not know, never having had to peruse real porn when fandom provides me with free stuff. But, yes, I know SuJu is a predominantly slash-oriented fandom sooo beware. Lots of VERY GRAPHIC detailed scenes of Donghae sexin' up a woman. You know. One of those. What most of us are.
Hey, if it helps: pretend it's you! (The joys of writing hetfic, ohoho.)
So, think I have enough warnings yet? DONGHAE/GIRLS, NO SLASH FOUND HERE. Just to be safe. Oh, for the record, not all the girls are OCs. You will recognize most of them.
(Though,
taylormercury, if you don't recognize a tribute to the biggest Donghae fangirl I know, I am dispossessing you of your crown!)Thanks to
papered and black_goose for listening to me whine about Donghae not moving fast enough, and thanks to magicmelodyx for supporting my Donghae/5 different girls plan! It was a great plan, if I do say so myself.Final note: WTF why is this 6310 words of het porn?! OTL
Keepers of This Art
Super Junior, Donghae/girls, NC-17, 6310 words
Five times Donghae has sex with a woman.
Keepers of This Art
by
meifaceDonghae couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex. Being an idol, he thought ruefully, was sometimes not all it was played up to be. Sure, there was fame, but fame came with prices: not being able to go out any time he wanted, not being able to see anyone he wanted, and so on. He had never really minded because he'd had a good idea going in that the life of an idol was not as glamorous as it seemed - but he'd done it anyway because it was his dream. He wasn't so fickle that he'd give up his dream so easily, just because it was different, harder, from what he'd once expected.
He wouldn't give up this dream just because he couldn't remember the last time he’d had sex, he laughed. That would just be ridiculous.
But he was a healthy twenty-three-year-old guy. He had needs. He could put them on the backburner for only so long - and management knew that. They tended to look the other way if one of their idols acquired a girlfriend, or just went out for the night, provided that said idol took care to be discreet and this kind of thing didn't happen too frequently. Donghae remembered the talking-to Youngwoon had gotten in their earlier days.
“Try not to cause a scandal, will you?” their manager had said to him, exasperated.
Come to think of it, Heechul had gotten quite a dressing-down too... Donghae, however, had always taken care to be discreet. He had always been pretty popular with the girls even before debut, even before his trainee days (though he wasn't sure middle-school flirtations really counted), but he had his priorities in order, the memory of his father clutched close to his heart: this dream first. Never do anything so stupid as to put it in jeopardy.
A night out was fine. Even he thought he deserved one once in a while, after months of lessons and rehearsals and filming and putting up with everyone else's sexual frustration (or occasionally their even more grating smug looks when they'd finally gone and had their night out). It had been months - Donghae couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex, and he figured it was about time again. He had been getting antsy lately, his temper shorter, a sort of restlessness eating him up from inside. When he realized he had been halfway aroused at the sight of his bandmates’ bare skin (a typical sight in the dorms), he'd realized it was definitely time to get out.
So, he thought, surveying the scene before him, here he was. The club was dark, lit with frequent flashes of neon light, changing from red to green to purple and back. Donghae wasn't sure he even liked this kind of club except for the fact that, in this kind of darkness, it was much harder for people to recognize faces such as his. The pulsing lights provided only the briefest glimpse of bodies, writhing, twined, packed in too close on the dance floor. The heavy odor of smoke eclipsed any underlying scents: sweat, cologne, perfume - souring in the warm mix of bodies and not enough ventilation.
Donghae glanced over at Jongwoon and Zhou Mi, tonight's partners-in-crime, and grinned. His teeth flashed too-bright in the darkness. He pushed himself away from the bar and slid off his stool. “Let's go, hyung,” he said, pitching his voice low to be heard under the music.
Jongwoon returned the grin. “First one to get lucky gets fifty points. Whoever goes home alone...” he paused for dramatic effect, then finished, “...reports to Heechul the new stats.”
“I know how it works, hyung.”
Donghae wasn't fond of the way his hyungs played the game, but he was dutiful enough about reporting back. It was mostly harmless, in any case, and hearing Heechul gloat and tease Siwon (who was appalled at the game yet always ended up participating anyway) or Youngwoon or the others was always entertaining. Donghae didn't really play to win, but if he got sex out of it, he figured that was more than good enough.
Zhou Mi grinned at him and squeezed his arm, then melted off into the darkness. Donghae wiggled his fingers at Jongwoon and did his own disappearing act, sliding onto the dance floor with practiced ease. Bodies pressed up against his almost immediately; there was no such thing as personal space here.
For the first few minutes, he let himself relax into the music, the bass thrumming through his body. It was simple to lose himself to this dance, unchoreographed, unpracticed, but as natural as sex. His body knew what it was doing; he had a god-given talent, an inborn instinct - his hips rolled, languid, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes briefly.
He didn't recognize the song, thought it might be in English. It didn't matter, as long as he could dance. Rhythm, heartbeat, breath - one after the other as the music pounded around him, through him. Donghae opened his eyes in a flash of neon pink and across the crowd caught sight of Zhou Mi wrapped up in the arms of a girl significantly shorter than him. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and Donghae could only see a sheen of sweat across her bare shoulders and back as she wound her arms around Zhou Mi's neck and pulled him toward her.
A flash of darkness, then green light, and they shifted. Donghae almost laughed. He recognized her - and it was just like Zhou Mi to find the one unattached Chinese trainee at SM and zero in on her.
Victoria Song, Donghae remembered, calling to mind her shy smile and perfunctory bow from when he'd first met her. A hand slid over his hip and thoughts of her fled as he turned his head.
Hello, said the girl's smile, slow and pointed. She was tall, maybe taller than him in her heels, or maybe it just looked that way with her miles and miles of long leg exposed by her short black shorts. She crowded into the scant space in front of Donghae so smoothly he barely noticed; he was caught by the way her hair brushed her shoulders, the way she filled out her low-cut red plaid top, the glint of her dangling hoop earrings.
She wasn't his type. Donghae didn't like the bold, brazen ones. He was attracted by an air of sweetness, of femininity, with a hidden sly side. He liked girls whose smiles lit up the room, whose every touch felt like winning a prize he'd never dared hope to win. Donghae still believed in fairy tales, and he wanted to be a girl's Prince Charming.
Girls like this were waiting for no knight-in-shining-armor. She was confident, almost cocky, pressing into Donghae and adjusting her stance so a leg slid between his. Skin was on show as if for free and her jewelry gleamed and flashed in the bursts of light.
“What's a boy like you doing in a place like this?” she mouthed into his ear, her painted lips brushing skin. Her voice was low, sultry - faintly accented. A foreigner?
She wasn't his type but, still, he was interested. He fitted his hands on her hips and tugged her a little closer, smiling when she pulled back to look at him.
“Waiting for a girl like you,” he suggested, an edge to his smile.
He knew he was generally pinned as the wholesome, childlike member - and Donghae didn't deny that he preferred laughter and pranks to whatever serious and boring pastimes the other members liked to indulge in. But when it came to sex...well. Donghae couldn't remember the last time he had sex, but it certainly wasn't because he couldn't get any. He had plenty of options.
Her chest moved sinuously against his in time to the music. Her eyes, glittering and dark under her heavy mascara, watched him carefully. She bit lightly at her bottom lip, a hint of even white teeth against red.
He wanted to laugh. She was so obvious. But she knew what she wanted, he'd give her that, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested. “Oppa,” she murmured, and he couldn't hear her under the music, but he could read her lips. Heat sparked through him, sudden and welcome.
It had been a while.
Donghae slid his hands from her hips up her side, brushing against her bare midriff then over her top. His hands came to a rest on her bare shoulders and, with little warning, he spun her around in the crowd until he framed her, his front to her back.
“Let's dance,” he whispered into her ear, amused by the turnabout. She responded with a breathy sigh and rubbed her backside into his crotch. His blood rushed south and he pulled her flush against him as her head tilted back onto his shoulder.
He eyed the length of her throat and licked his lips. Maybe brazen could be good sometimes.
“Name?” he asked, because he was still Donghae. He couldn't fuck nameless girls the way some of his hyungs and Kibum could.
Her lips parted. “Maika.”
Japanese. He let his hand flutter against her midriff, still rocking his hips against hers. Interesting.
“Donghae,” he said simply.
She smiled and dropped her hand atop his, holding it to her bare stomach, warm. He was hard against her now and he knew she could feel it. “Donghae-oppa,” she said, staring up at him under lidded eyes. “Yes, let's dance.”
***
He took her back to his dorm, because neither of them could afford being spotted entering a hotel by the media. There was always the risk of nosy roommates and band members, of course, but it was a risk Donghae thought worth running in consideration of the alternative. Besides, if his bandmates didn't respect his sex life, he'd have every excuse to burst in on them as noisily and nosily as he wanted. He smiled to himself and ducked into the elevator, hoping no one would think twice about two friends, fellow entertainers, getting into the elevator one after the other.
“Donghae-oppa,” Sunye said, reaching a hand out to stroke up his arm. Her hand came to a delicate perch on his shoulder, hesitant, as she looked sideways at him.
God, he wanted to press her against the elevator wall and kiss her hard, maybe even take her there. His blood rushed at the thought and he couldn’t help picturing her flushed, disheveled as he held her up against the side of the elevator, her legs long, bare, and hitched around his waist as he—
Donghae let out a long, slow breath. “Just a little longer,” he said with a tilt of his head and his best boyish smile. He tried thinking unsexy thoughts to calm himself down - gross bathrooms, his middle-aged manager naked, Hyukjae’s feet, ew - there was no way he could take her on an elevator: there were cameras there. Everywhere. He had to get her safely into his room before he could strip off her clothes, piece by piece...
His eyes drifted down her neck and lingered on her collarbone before dipping slightly towards the swell of her breasts. Her top wasn’t particularly scandalous, a pink-and-white striped button-up over a fairly tame tank top that showed off only the barest hint of cleavage. He was just - he caught himself and flicked his eyes back up. She was watching him, a knowing look in her eyes.
He was just horny, that was all. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish laugh. He felt inexperienced and young, suddenly.
Her hand patted his shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied, her own lips tugging in a smile. “It’s...flattering.”
When the elevator finally arrived on the twelfth floor with a ding, Donghae grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall after him. She followed him, breathless, and they kicked off their shoes in the entryway, excited and rushed and feeling like children falling over themselves.
“Yo,” someone shouted from the living room and Donghae didn’t even register who the voice belonged to before he burst into his room, Sunye in tow, relieved that Shindong was evidently elsewhere for the night.
“Just a sec,” he said and flung through his closet for a sock - dirty, clean, it didn’t matter - before snatching one up and draping it haphazardly over the doorknob. Then he carefully eased the door shut and turned around to find Sunye sitting on his bed, laughing at him. He blushed and shrugged.
“That’s so...college-like,” she said, amused.
Donghae self-consciously rubbed the back of his head. “Well,” he offered, slightly embarrassed, “we do live in the dorms. It’s the best I can do on short notice...and as long as it works.” He smiled at her and the atmosphere changed, suddenly electric again. He could feel pricks of awareness dance along his skin and suddenly breathing became an incredibly erotic activity.
Sunye looked at him, head tilted slightly up, her bangs feathering into her eyes. There was no artifice to her pose - she was a strong leader, charismatic and well-spoken, but now she was nothing but a girl with simple desires. Her fingers slid anxiously over the bedspread beneath her, a tiny telltale sign of nervousness. In every other sense it looked only as if she were waiting for him to hurry up and get his act together.
It was the little gesture that imbued Donghae with a rush of affection. He had never been close to any of the Wonder Girls, not when they were under a different company, but he had always liked her when they’d talked. Had always thought she was pretty. Sexy. He had never thought she'd let him...
“Sunye-yah,” he said, voice suddenly a little rough, and then he crossed the space between them and kissed her like he’d wanted to kiss her in the elevator. He kissed her deeply, bending her back over the bed, swallowing her gasp, tongue slipping into her mouth with little ceremony. She was warm, soft - he was heady with the feel of her, her hands slipping and sliding over his back.
He kissed her and kissed her until she shifted and moaned and lay back on the bed, pulling him along with her until he was straddling her, leaning over her with his arms by her head, propping himself up. He wrenched his mouth away for moment, breathing heavily, staring into her eyes. They looked back, dark with lust. “Donghae-oppa,” she said, a tiny whine to her tone, impatient. Her legs moved under him, spreading.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said into her throat instead, dipping his head to mouth at her skin, damp with sweat. His tongue flickered out and in.
“You’re a flirt,” she accused him, half-giggling. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He lifted his head momentarily to smile widely at her. “Only the pretty ones,” he promised.
She laughed again and her hands slid down his sides, then back up, under his shirt. He shuddered at the feel of her palms skating over bare skin, her fingers curving one-by-one, deliberate. “Sunye-yah,” he breathed again, and kissed her jaw, her nose, her mouth again. “Can I - can I?” His hands paused, waiting, at the edge of her tank top.
She flushed. “You know you can.” Her voice was soft but steady. She was certain, and they’d come this far already. He was privately pathetically grateful because he never wanted to be the kind of guy who would force a girl, and he never would be if he could help it, but it would’ve been so hard to stop. Not when she was looking at him like that, strangely vulnerable and trusting, lifting her arms so he could pull off her button-up shirt, then help her strip off her tank top.
Her bra was satiny white, trimmed with pink lace and punctuated with a small pink bow right between her breasts.
“Oh god,” Donghae groaned, feeling his cock harden. “Sunye—” He pressed her back against the bed with a needy kiss, one hand splayed next to her head and the other coming up to cup a breast. The weight was soft and warm against his hand, a tickle of lace and the smoothness of her skin. His cock twitched.
Her laugh against his mouth was breathy, almost startled, when he gave her breast a gentle, playful squeeze. He lifted his head slightly to grin at her. He liked it when she laughed.
“I never knew you were hiding such girly lingerie under your super fashionable clothes,” he teased.
Her flush may have been due to his words, or they may have been due to the fact that his hand had abandoned her breast to sneak between her thighs. His fingers flirted with the hem of her skirt, touched briefly on the skin of her inner thighs. She trembled slightly.
“I’m pretty girly,” she admitted as her head fell back on the pillow. She moved under him and her legs spread again, a little wider. He swallowed a groan, hardening further. “Oppa...” The word was little more than a sigh, a please.
Donghae had never been one to turn down an invitation. Nipping at her throat, teasing a small whimper out of her, he trailed his hand along her thigh and under her skirt.
***
She was wet.
He muttered a little “Fuck,” under his breath, heat flushing through him as he slid his fingers, slow and careful, over her damp panties.
“I-I’ve never heard you swear,” she said, somewhat dazed, as she swallowed little whimpers and clutched at his shoulders.
Donghae looked down at her, tousled, undone, aroused. “Only when I’m mad or lose my composure,” he managed to say thickly around the sudden want choking him. She looked - he made an internal face at the term, but nothing else quite fit - wanton. Wild for it, her eyes too-bright, her mouth kiss-swollen and red. “My accent comes out too,” he added nonsensically, and then twitched his fingers along the line of her clit.
Yuri shuddered under him. “Oppa,” she cried, fingers digging into him.
He bit his lip and tried to think, when all his blood pounded between his legs, insistent on only one thing, and his head whirling with alcohol. Strip her and fuck her.
But. He had to be more gentle than that. Donghae had had his fair share of experience and, well, he’d certainly had fun every time - but he wanted to make sure she did too. He wanted to make her feel good. Especially if it was Yuri, whom he had something of a soft spot for. They’d always been good friends and they probably wouldn’t have ended up in bed together if not for the alcohol but still, hazily, underneath the soju-induced fog in his mind, Donghae wanted Yuri to want it, and like it, and god he wanted to see her come.
He groaned at the mental image and pulled her to him, on her side. “Yuriiii,” he mumbled into her cheek. “Yuri-yah, Yuri-yah.” He laughed and felt her pull him closer, pressing her lips against his.
“More,” she demanded against his mouth, through kisses, “oppa, more. Please.” The next kiss was long, desperate, and Donghae felt himself unravel a little. His fingers dug slightly harder against her skin, warm and damp. He stroked firm circles through her panties, thumb sliding along her clit until she trembled and gasped and moaned.
“Oppa,” she repeated faintly, “oppa, oppa—”
Part of him wondered drunkenly if she even meant him anymore, when oppa could mean so many. Anyone.
She caught his lip between her teeth, drew it into her mouth, and sucked. He decided he didn’t really care. His fingers slid under the edge of her cotton panties and he thought he might come from the intense rush of touching her there alone. “Shit,” he rasped and dimly he could hear his accent come out.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, Yuri-yah,” he babbled. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, but maybe it didn’t matter when his fingers are there, and she was hot and wet and slick and clutching at him. Her hips bucked towards him, impatient, needy. “I...” Donghae couldn’t finish, mind in too many places at once in a dizzying rush of drunkeness and arousal.
His hips met hers and he ground his erection against her as he kissed her thoroughly. He didn’t need words, not when he could have this instead, the heat of her mouth, the tinge of alcohol on her tongue, and his hand trapped between her thighs, stroking her. Her skirt was caught up around her waist now, tangled and ruched. Frustrated, he let his hand slip away with mild regret to come to a rest on the waistband of her skirt.
Thank god for elastic, he thought as he pulled the skirt down past her hips, letting it tangle briefly around her knees before she kicked it off. She wriggled against him and he moaned as she kissed his throat, bit at the juncture where his neck met shoulder. His palms slipped under her panties and cupped her ass, following the curve.
“Off,” she ordered breathily, and he complied.
Her bra came off next, flying haphazardly across the mostly-dark room, and then she was naked. Somewhere under the swirl of alcohol and lust, Donghae took a moment to pause and just look at her. She was long and lithe, a dancer’s body in idol skin. She grasped the edge of his shirt and yanked at it, tugging it over his head as he lifted his arms in a daze.
“Oppa,” she said again, and maybe he would never hear his name from her lips, but that was okay. She’d pushed him back on his back and climbed on top now, her skin wreathed in golden lamplight and playful shadows, revealing teasing glimpses of mysterious places Donghae wanted to touch, kiss, lick. His eyes glazed over with lust and he reached out for her.
“Let me,” he husked, sounding so unlike himself, and then he’d rolled them over and pinned her to the bed.
“Let me,” he said as his hand snaked its way back between her legs, which fell open to his lightest touch. She was ready, god, and so willing, her nipples dusky and hard. He lowered his mouth to one, pleased at her little cry as his fingers moved searchingly between her legs.
He sucked and teased her breast with a scrape of teeth, a soothing tongue, until she bucked against him, panting and whimpering. Her long hair spilled over the sheets, sweat-dampened strands clinging to her skin.
Donghae wanted. He wanted this. He wanted her.
His cock throbbed as he panted into her neck, nudged his hand a little further between her legs, and slowly pressed his middle finger into her.
Her moan was shaky and broken, her fingers wrapping into the white sheets and clenching, tension thrumming along the entire line of her body.
“Shh,” he whispered, “shh, baby, let me—” He distracted her with light kisses, teasing and feathered across her face and chest, taking time to swirl his tongue around the other nipple as he, painstakingly slowly, crooked his finger.
The moan was longer this time, escaping breathlessly from her throat. He’d never heard her so sexy, seen her so in pieces, sweaty and perfect and beautiful. He just wanted to make her feel good, and he smiled as her muscles clenched and her toes curled.
“I just want to see you come,” he breathed in her ear, voice low and rough with his Mokpo accent, with desire.
“N-not yet,” she gasped.
***
She pulled away and he was suddenly disoriented, feeling shy. His heart beat an uncertain rhythm in his chest - had he done something wrong? He wasn’t experienced, not really, definitely not as much as she was. He probably wasn’t as skilled as most of the men she’d slept with before.
Donghae still wasn’t sure why Hyori-noona had chosen to sleep with him. The whole thing was still a little surreal to him, even now, as he laid on her hotel bed in nothing but his black boxer-briefs. And she...she was gloriously naked and unashamed. Her golden skin gleamed lightly in the low lights - mood lighting, she’d explained to him earlier with a twinkle in her eye and a chuckle.
It was like she was toying him, really. He didn’t understand. But he couldn’t really complain, could he? Not when she kissed him like that, slow and languid, unhurried. Hyori was in no rush; she didn’t care if Donghae was sporting a painful-looking erection through his briefs, leaking a damp spot into the fabric. It only amused her.
“Eager, aren’t we?” she teased as her hand cupped him lightly and his hips jerked involuntarily.
“I,” he said, cheeks reddening. “Um. Noona is very attractive,” he offered, embarrassed and glancing up at her through his bangs.
She laughed, throaty, and slowly applied pressure against his cock until he gasped, shuddering. His voice caught in his throat.
“You’re adorable,” she sighed, eyes still creased with her smile. She leaned in to kiss him and behind his closed eyes he could sense her shifting her position. He focused the best he could on the kiss - Donghae was a good kisser, he knew that. He might not have been as experienced as she was in the bedroom, but he’d at least done his fair share of kissing. His tongue found hers and curled, then drew back, playful and a little taunting.
She was smiling when she drew back. “I do so like you, Donghae-yah,” she said and kissed him again, light and perfunctory against his lips. “So cute.”
“Noona,” he said and it came out a little plaintive. His eyes opened to find her on her hands and knees over him. His cock, already painfully hard, jerked slightly and his eyes unfocused as he took in the heavy swell of her breasts, dangling over him, and her tanned stomach...
And, and that little thatch of dark hair, still black and not dyed like the hair tumbling over her shoulders now. He’d touched her there, touched lower, where she was hot and slick and he’d made her moan. His life was surreal, Donghae decided, a slight ringing in his ears as he stared at the ceiling. He’d touched Lee Hyori. He was having sex with one of the sexiest women alive.
“Let’s get you naked,” Hyori murmured and suddenly he found her head was level with his chest. She trailed her lips down the planes of his skin, grazing and never quite applying enough pressure. Donghae whined slightly in his throat, wriggling unhappily under her.
“Noona,” he breathed, pleading, as she followed the thin trail of hair down his bellybutton and paused at the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
Her eyes flashed in the dim lights and his hips rocked fitfully when she gently applied her teeth the the elastic of his briefs and slowly eased her way downward. The ringing in his ears had grown louder, drowning out the slightly incoherent thoughts in his mind. Holy mother of god, Donghae thought to himself and he swore his eyes crossed as her warm breath ghosted over his cock.
He nearly came when she pressed a sweet, close-mouthed kiss to the crown and clenched his fists, eyes slamming shut as he fought with his every fiber not to be the silly, inexperienced boy she had once tried to sleep with but had failed because he had come too early. His body shook with suppressed desire but the white-hot tension passed, and Donghae dared to open his eyes. Hyori sat back on her heels, looking at him with a fond expression.
“Adorable,” she said.
Her lips glistened with his precome and her eyes were hooded and dark with something quite different from fondness, however.
It was like an electric jolt to Donghae’s system, heat and desire nearly overwhelming him.
He scrambled to sit up and pull his briefs off, tossing them over the side of the bed carelessly. “Hyori-noona,” he said, reaching out to pull her into his arms. “Noona, you’re so pretty.” He kissed her before he said something stupid, because he didn’t know what he was saying anyway. Gently, he pulled her to the bed and rolled her to the side so he was cradling her in his arms, and she was smooth and warm as he kissed her, more and more frantically.
His hands slid up and down her body, fervent, gliding over her back, pausing to grip her ass, trailing down her thighs. His heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear the ringing in his ears anymore.
She moaned, soft, a little breathless, and Donghae was delighted at the sound. To think he’d done that. He kissed her again, stroking her wet folds, fingers slipping around her center.
“Donghae-yah,” she panted, and he thrilled again. He kissed her neck, bent his head lower, wrapping his mouth over her nipple.
She arched back and moaned again and his cock leapt against her leg, so hard he hurt.
“Donghae-yah,” she said over his bent head, “do you want me to suck your cock? Do you want me to put my mouth on you and make you see stars when you come?” Her voice was throaty, sultry and sexy, and Donghae had to take a steadying breath against her breast before he could lift his head to answer.
“No,” he said firmly, gazing into her eyes intently. “No, noona. Why don’t you let me put my mouth on you?”
There was a sharp intake of breath and then she - she shivered and Donghae grinned, a new edge to his smile. Wordlessly, he slid down between her legs, pulled them apart gently, and then he just stopped. Stopped and looked at her until she was nearly writhing in anticipation, every line of her body impatient and crying for his touch.
“Donghae,” Hyori said, voice imperious.
“Noona,” he replied.
“Donghae,” she repeated, this time voice dropping a register, coaxing.
He smiled wickedly and dipped his head between her legs, arranging them over his shoulders, and then he kissed her there. He licked her and teased her and tongued her until she came to pieces, a shuddering, panting wreck, her fingers tight in his hair.
As she lay there catching her breath, she looked at him with a quirk of her eyebrow. “You’re more than you let on, Lee Donghae,” she told him. Her tone was almost wry. He grinned and gave her breast a quick kiss.
“I’m just willing to learn,” he replied cheerfully.
She smiled then, and wrapped her hands around his cock. The groan wrenched itself from his throat, unbidden. “Let’s learn then,” she purred.
***
She put the condom on with trembling hands. He watched her, too nervous to reassure her, too turned on to help her out. He sat as still as he could until she had rolled it on, then glanced up at him with wide, dark eyes, and his breath stilled in his lungs.
She wanted him, Donghae could tell, but she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that desire. She needed him to lead her and he, he needed to be that for her.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her quietly. “Jessica, you’re the most beautiful girl I know.”
He laid her down gently, and he couldn’t promise that his hands weren’t shaking as well. He hoped fervently that he was doing this right, hoped he could live up to his earlier whispered promise that he wouldn’t hurt her. Donghae squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and then opened them again, trying for reassuring even though he had very little idea what he was doing.
“Don’t worry,” he said and kissed her.
Her mouth was sweet, still, even after he’d been kissing her for an hour. Maybe more. He remembered the first time he’d kissed her, unsure and hopeful, fallen headlong into something like love. Her eyes had lit up when he’d finally pulled away to look, even though a blush had stained her cheeks. She’d smiled, though, and he’d kissed her again. Then again and again, and when she’d kissed back, he’d thought he could die happy.
Her smile was shaky at best now and his heart lurched because, this girl. There was something about her. “I know,” she whispered, winding her arms around his neck. “It’s fine, just...just do it.”
She was lay bare beneath him, every perfect inch of her a feast for his eyes. He’d kissed her everywhere, touched her, licked her, made her moan and tremble and turn blindly towards him, holding him desperately. She’d kissed him too, tentative at first, more surely after time. She’d made him fight not to come at the delicate, uncertain swipe of her tongue against his cock, before he’d drawn her back and told her no, not now, maybe later, it’s okay. That could wait. This - he wanted this. It was his first time, and hers too, and it could be theirs together - this perfection, this unity, everyone talked about. He could barely contain his excitement.
Donghae eased himself between his legs, one hand guiding his cock towards her entrance. She bit her lip and managed a smile when he glanced at her. He pushed his tip in and paused, anxious.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, still smiling encouragingly, fingers twisted in the sheets. “Keep going.”
He pushed in as gently as he could, fighting every urge to just slam inside, and just - just fuck her like his body was clamoring - but he could see the tiny line between her brows forming as she fought to keep from making a sound.
“Jessica,” he said, not quite sure it was his own voice he was hearing, “Jessica, if it hurts - if it’s that bad, I can—” Stop? Try something else? He didn’t know how to finish but maybe it was for the best, because her eyes came around to meet his, flashing.
“No,” she said fiercely, the strongest burst of emotion he’d seen in her tonight. “Keep going.”
And he did. He pushed into her, trying to be gentle, but he was caught up in the feeling, the onslaught of pleasure and desire and - his heart stepped up double-time. God, she was hot and tight and he wanted her so badly. Donghae shuddered violently, fighting himself not to rock his hips.
But suddenly she turned towards him, reaching out and sliding her fingers through his hair, tugging his head towards hers. She kissed him, deeply, desperately, and rolled her hips against his. Her breath carried a soft whimper into his mouth.
It broke the dam. What little control he’d had snapped.
Donghae kissed her as his hips pulled back and then rocked forward, sliding into her. She let out a little cry and he swallowed it, kissing her salty skin, damp with sweat and something else, as he thrust in and out of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she kept her hands buried in his hair, keeping him close to her as he groaned and grunted and fucked her as hard as his body demanded.
The pleasure built, an intense and inescapable wave, until it crashed over him, a moment of ohgodfuckyes and he groaned and collapsed onto her, legs shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure rocking through him.
Her fingers slid from his hair and he thought she might have been trembling still.
He wished he could have seen her face when she came, Donghae thought distantly, regretfully, breathing hard and trying to get his heart rate to return to normal.
Long moments passed and then he lifted his head. “Jessica?”
His heart clenched when he saw her tears. “Jessica?” he whispered but she pushed him off her, abruptly, and he slid out of her, feeling boneless and strange. The world felt tilted, skewed, as he watched her roll away on her side, back towards him. Her bare shoulder hitched. She was crying.
Donghae reached for her, sliding an arm around her. He didn’t know what to say. What’s wrong? I’m sorry? Was it enough? What did it mean?
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, unsurely.
She was silent for a long time. “It...wasn’t what I expected,” she whispered at last, the words so faint he had to strain to hear them. She shifted away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, back still turned against him.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I’m...I’m sorry,” he offered lamely, because he didn’t know what the right words were.
She didn’t reply.
It wasn’t until later, when she slipped out of bed, still naked, and padded off to the shower, that he noticed the blood.
He resumed staring at the ceiling, a heavy feeling in his chest.
It wasn’t what he’d expected either.
Donghae couldn’t imagine the next time he’d have sex.
--
Started/Finished: 2009.06.04
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