Oil-Slicked Sex
"Nngh."
The boss barely swallowed the groan that tried to tear out of his throat. Suhee was sucking at his glans — still raw, still twitching from the orgasm he'd just spent — and the sensation made his legs feel like they might simply give out beneath him.
The sight of her was almost too much: that oil-slicked body surrendered completely into his hands, her mouth working his cock with wet, greedy little pulls. And the feeling itself — that soft, clinging drag of her tongue, thick and messy against the most sensitive part of him — refused to let his erection die. Blood that had started to recede came flooding back instead, rushing into him so hard that he felt thicker now than he had before he'd come. He'd stayed hard after finishing before. He had never, not once, felt himself get harder.
He clung to what was left of his composure and started moving his fingers again. He could feel it — the way her pussy clenched and rolled around the fingers buried inside her, perfectly timed to the sweep of her tongue. He wasn't about to just lie there and take it. His middle finger found her G-spot once more; his thumb settled over her clit and stroked it in slow, deliberate circles.
"Haaang."
The moan spilled out of her around his cock, filthy and unguarded. His hands weren't moving fast. It didn't matter. Suhee was so steeped in pleasure that even that lazy rhythm felt sweeter, sharper, more devastating than anything else in the world. The salty smear of semen still leaking from his tip tasted better than it ever had. She wanted more of it — kept sucking, kept licking, chasing what was already gone. There was nothing left. Only his cock, hard as it could possibly get, rolling around inside her mouth like a piece of candy.
"Hah — Suhee. That's enough."
If she kept going he was going to come down her throat again. He put force into his hand, using the fingers still inside her like a remote — a tap against her G-spot, a hard rub across her clit.
"Nnh—!"
Her body, which had started to settle, jerked and bucked. The cock she'd lost from her mouth glistened in front of her, and she stared at it with dazed, disappointed eyes. The boss drew his fingers out of her, stripped the rest of his clothes, and climbed onto the massage table.
The warmup was more than enough. It might have been too much.
He took hold of himself — harder now than he had been all night — and pressed in close. He spread her legs wide and slapped the head of his cock against a pussy soaked through with every fluid her body had to offer.
"Nngh… ah…"
She felt it. She'd known how thick he was, how heavy, from having him in her mouth — but the blunt, solid press of him against her entrance made it real in a way that stole the air from her lungs.
He didn't push in. He just rubbed — slow, glancing strokes that dragged his glans through the mess of her. Her whole body started to tremble with something she couldn't name. An itch that wasn't quite an itch. A hunger with no bottom. Anticipation poured in on top of it, and her already wrecked mind emptied itself of everything but his cock.
She reached down, hooked her hands behind her knees, and hauled her legs in toward her chest. The position was mortifying. This wasn't an M-shape. She opened herself so wide her thighs were flush against her own torso, her plump pussy and ass twitching, clenching, offering themselves up.
Drool slipped from the corner of the boss's mouth. He looked like a man who hadn't eaten in days, staring at a feast. The wet, yielding give of her against the tip of him was going to ruin him.
Then — whether she moved or her body simply did it for her — those sticky, glutinous folds wrapped around his glans like freshly pounded rice cake, warm and clinging.
"Nngh."
"Haa… Boss, please… hurry… ah…"
That voice. Dreamlike. It pulled him under. He drove his hips forward — he thought he did it fast — but whether he was truly bewitched or not, the sight of his cock sinking into her unfolded in something like slow motion. Her pussy, slathered in slick and oil and everything else, parted around him with a softness that was almost obscene, the inner flesh seizing him before he could even see it. It wrapped him like a mouth. The pressure was staggering.
"Hup—"
He'd thought nothing could outdo the way she'd sucked him after he came. He'd been wrong. This was the real thing.
The wet, heavy sound of him driving into her filled the room — a thick, rhythmic slap of flesh and fluid.
"Haaang — aaang — ah, it's too — it's too good — aah—!"
Suhee held her own legs open and took him, the sounds tearing out of her closer to screams than moans. Her whole body was wound to a breaking point, so oversensitized it felt as though nothing existed except her pussy. She felt every inch. She could see it in her mind — the shape of him, from the stretch of her entrance all the way to the place just short of her womb, punching in deep and dragging back out.
Her juices poured out of her in helpless pulses. Every time he stirred her inner walls, bottomed out, then receded like a tide pulling off a beach, her mind threatened to simply let go.
The boss upended the oil bottle and dumped whatever was left over her. The massage table already looked like a floodplain. He didn't care. Oil ran down into the valley her arms made, pinned tight against her sides from holding her legs. It ran over her breasts. It caught on the stiff peaks of her nipples and traced gleaming, elegant lines down the curves of her.
"Haahk… aaahk. Nnh."
He threw the empty bottle aside and put his hands on her — her breasts, her ribs, her stomach — rubbing the oil in while his hips kept working, while he kept burying himself inside her. Her breasts were heavy in his grip and impossibly slick. He couldn't hold them properly. But he could feel her nipples catch against his palms, distinct and unmistakable.
"Heuk—"
Every time his hands dragged across those nipples, the pussy impaled on him clenched. Tighter. Hungrier.
"Haa… aah—"
Her hips bucked whenever he touched her. Whether it was the warmth of the oil or simply the way he used his hands, the pleasure never receded — it just kept building, wave on wave, and underneath it all that thick cock kept digging, scraping her G-spot on every inward stroke, punching the deepest part of her until her thighs locked rigid. She felt like she needed to pee. Her nipples sparked and sparked and wouldn't stop.
"Aaaah—!"
A spray. Her pussy let go again, a hard, shuddering gush that clamped down on him with a pressure that was almost violent. She came around the cock still buried inside her, and she came hard.
He didn't stop. He kept thrusting through it, wet and relentless, then caught both her arms and hauled her up. They'd been face to face, him over her — now he dropped onto his back and pulled her with him, settling her on top.
"Aeut—"
Cowgirl. She felt immediately how much deeper he was like this. Before, she'd only registered that last stretch when he drove in. Now he was pressed against the deepest part of her and staying there, a constant, maddening pressure that felt exactly like the edge of an orgasm that refused to break.
"I want you to move, Suhee."
"Heuk… ah, it's too — this is… nnh—"
"Now."
Her waist curved. She leaned forward, offering her breasts toward his face, bracing both palms against his chest. Her round ass lifted — then sank, taking him to the root.
The wet, filthy sound of it was obscene.
"Haahk… ah… aaang."
Damp hair clung to her skin in dark streaks. Every roll of her hips sent his cock surging inside her, filling her, shifting against places that made her vision blur.
"Nnh — aaa — Boss—"
"Don't stop."
Her breasts were right there. There was no universe in which he was going to ignore them. A woman this beautiful, this built, sitting on his cock and working her waist for him — putting his mouth on her was the least he could do. He bit down on a nipple that was swollen and taut as ripe fruit and let himself enjoy the show.
The wet sounds of his mouth and the slick grind of her pussy stacked on top of each other, filthy and rhythmic.
"Heuk — aang — nnh — eung — ah…"
The dual sensation — his mouth on her chest, her own hips driving her down onto him — set her whole body shaking. Spreading herself open to get fucked had been humiliating enough. This was just as bad. The image of herself like this, completely given over to it, made her pussy clamp down even tighter, a reflex she had no say in at all.
"Heuk… ah."
His hands came up and pushed her breasts together, lifting them. Sucking them had been good. Holding them up like this was something else — like looking at a finished piece of work. That gleaming, oil-slicked body, every line of it shining.
She moved. Forward and back. Circles, clockwise, then the other way. The line of her, from the swell of her chest down to the roll of her hips, undulated like water. Faint traces of muscle showed at her stomach. The entire architecture of that body was being used for one thing: stirring herself on his cock. It was spectacular.
"Haahk — aah — aaahk — nnh — eu, heeut—"
"Aaa — aah — aaang…"
Being watched like that — really watched, his eyes on every filthy detail — made her feel even dirtier. Her nipples were flushed dark. Her skin shone. And between her legs, her own slick and his and the oil had whipped themselves into a thick white froth that clung to both of them. The thought of him seeing her like this, riding him, grinding, coated in it — she couldn't hold on.
She came again. A hard, sudden gush, right at the instant his cock dragged across the spot that ruined her. Her stretched body folded forward. She convulsed. The boss caught her as she collapsed and planted his knees, gathering her into his chest.
"Heuu… ah… aaa…"
She moaned against him like she was sobbing. She looked spent. He knew better. The pussy still gripping him was twitching with a hunger that hadn't even started to fade.
"Haa… ah… Boss…"
She said it softly, the aftershocks still rolling through her. And then, in the very next breath—
He held her and started to fuck her. Knees planted, arms locked around her back, he drove up into her like he'd lost his mind — hard, deep, relentless strokes that punched wet, slapping sounds out of the mess between them and sent fluid spraying with every thrust.
"W-wai— heuk — aaahk — aaaang — nnh — eung — ng — eung—!"
Her pussy was so oversensitized that every stroke sent up a spray. She tried to pull away. It was useless. She was coated in oil, the table was coated in oil, and every time she tried to brace or twist or crawl she just slipped. The only person who could hold onto anything was him — and he used that, pinning her in place while he slammed into her, over and over, with a skill that left her no room to do anything but take it.
"Aaahk — ah — n-no… don't… aaang… nnh—"
She couldn't move. She could only scream, and every time he buried himself she came apart around him, squirting helplessly onto the soaked, shining wreck of the table.