Start with Big-Butt Girl

"You wanna see Big-Butt Girl? Going right now. Guys, this is insane. I seriously almost never dance Big-Butt Girl."

Hwayeon was on her feet at once. Today's look was a sports bra that left her chest bare to about the halfway mark, and leggings — a woman who knew her selling points cold. She bent over the desk to work the keyboard and mouse, and the lean laid her cleavage wide open.

Gulp. Kim Taeyoung swallowed it down. Years on her or not, Hwayeon was still devastating.

While his attention stayed locked on her figure, the setup finished. The screen split into three, and a hip track slid in underneath.

The intro.

Hwayeon checked whether she was framed well, angling her pelvis just enough to push her right hip into the shot.

One small move from her and the chat was already about to blow. Watching the comments race, Hwayeon lifted a corner of her mouth. The pose belonged on a jeans ad — no, a leggings ad — and it was unfairly good.

The verse proper kicked in. Hwayeon hooked her fingers in the leggings slung ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠low on her hips and dragged them down. However brutal her upkeep was, it showed: abs etched like the number eleven, ribs standing sharp, and above them the round, imperious swell of her pelvis, bared.

He swallowed again. Sexy. They hadn't called her a top Female Cam on Corea TV for years over nothing. On camera she knew exactly how to use her body. She had the whole map of how to look even sexier than this.

Hwayeon turned and pushed her ass back toward the lens. The sports bra left the line of her back almost indecently clear. How was even the muscle along her spine sexy? Hips and ass moved with the music — a soft sway, left and right, then a heavier swing, like a pirate-ship ride.

She came back around to face front and turned a devouring, siren look on the camera, as if she meant to eat it. Kim Taeyoung had the illusion their eyes had met. God. He was going to get pulled under. The dance wasn't violent. From her face down past her thighs she only rode a measured wave, and somewhere in it her hands swept over her chest and down her body. That was all. He still couldn't tell why it looked this sexy.

Hwayeon's skin shivered with the motion. She had gotten famous for her hips, but her chest was not the thing that fell short. Every time those breasts moved with the dance, his groin tightened on its own.

"Haa — that's as far as I go!"

The five minutes had felt brutally short. Hwayeon stopped and reset the cam, and the three-way split snapped back to the ordinary screen.

"Coin! Up! Coin! Up! Coin oppa's my number one!"

She hadn't even tried to hide how her breath had climbed. A quick pass over her mussed clothes and hair, and she was back in the chair.

"Oppa, how'd you like Big-Butt Girl? You into it?"

The best. Before he knew it, Kim Taeyoung had a thumb up. The gesture never reached her. Hwayeon was a person on the far side of the screen.

At a moment like this, the move was to fire Moon Balloons again. Kim Taeyoung hit donate. A minute later, his message went through.

"Waaah! Coin oppa, that wallet is seriously deep. But oppa, my minimum for a dance is 1,500..."

She said it while tapping her index fingers together, tok-tok-tok-tok. The voice was pure what-can-you-do. The eyes were sparkling. It was the exact face for one of her nicknames — Moneybird. Cunning little thing. He saw it, and let it pass anyway.

"Kyaaa! Coin oppa! You're seriously the best! For real! Why'd you only show up now! Why! Why! What should the next song be? What do you wanna see? Just say the word!"

"Ah! Coin oppa, you went to my station page? Oppa! Tell me when you're back! Guys. This is a Whale hyung we haven't had in forever. Treat him right. I'm telling you — don't let Coin oppa leave my room."

He browsed the station page with her stream still up. The sound was on, so every word she said came through clear.

Nine songs, posted clean on the station page. Any of them would do. Right — from the top, one by one. All of them.

"Sakuranbo? Sure. Going right now."

"Whew, oppa! Thanks for the 2,222. Right away again? Got it!"

"Oh — oppa. Haa, haa. Wait. Let me catch my breath. Haa.... I'll dance it. Zero Two!"

He kept her dancing on an endless run of tips, and then made her dance again. Watching Hwayeon fail to refuse him — watching her simply obey — sent a thrill up his spine. So this was why people stood above other people. This feeling was why they committed gabjil.

And yet, after firing this much, why wouldn't Superfan break? He had to be closing in on a hundred thousand already. A BJ who had been a top-tier Female Cam really was another species.

Nine songs in all. Even at four minutes each, that was thirty-six minutes. Anyone who had ever danced knew that going past thirty was no small thing. It burned more than a run.

Before he knew it, Hwayeon's bra top and leggings were soaked through with sweat. Strands of hair kept sticking to the damp on her forehead and cheeks. Every time she lifted both arms to push it back, the underarms she bared had gone damp too.

"Aaaah.... Coin oppa. Just a seeecond. I'm wiped now. Let's rest a little. Yeah? Just a little."

The Hwayeon who had lit up at every bursting Moon Balloon was gone. So was the girl who had begged for more. She genuinely seemed to want a break — and even then, she didn't forget to pout and coax.

"Yeah! I wanna rest. Let's just talk for ten minutes. I wanna know more about you, oppa."

"Ah, oppaaaa!"

Hwayeon wailed. The cry coming through the speakers felt close enough to tip him into orgasm. A crackling current ran his whole body. It felt good. This was gabjil. For the record, gabjil you paid a fortune to commit was the good kind.

"Haa.... I really can't anymore. I don't care. Shoot all the balloons you want, I'm not moving. Just kill me."

That surrender had come a full thirty minutes after Lip and Hip. Soaked head to toe, she went slack in the chair like a slime.

Hwayeon had given up on working the room. Most of the viewers forgave her for it anyway. She was one of the highest-rate names on all of Corea TV. Having watched that same Hwayeon dance for an hour straight, there was no way not to be satisfied.

"Hey. Why are you all talking without me. Coin oppa. I'll make you manager for now. That's fine, right?"

Hwayeon, who had been lying there like a corpse, shot upright. Talk about the Superfan cutoff, or about her take, could do real damage if you left it alone. She had to yank the subject ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠somewhere else, and fast.

"Oppa. You'll come again next time, right? I haven't danced like this in forever. I did it to look good for you."

"Sorry, guys. But I danced for a whole hour. I'm sooo tired. I'll knock off early today, and tomorrow I'll come on a little sooner. That works, right? Yeah?"

"Then see you tomorrow, guys. Buh-bye!"

What? She was actually signing off? Out of nowhere?

It was absurd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enough to leave him blank. She wouldn't cut a stream just because she'd filled some quota. That wasn't Hwayeon's style.

A new window had popped onto the screen. Manager chat. Call it something like a private note — the function a BJ and her broadcast manager used when they wanted to talk behind the viewers' backs.

Out of nowhere, Hwayeon was asking to meet. As a man, this was not an offer he could turn down.