The Signature That Cannot Be Erased
Squelch! Squelch!…
As I began to pant under the pleasure rising up through me in earnest, the way my oppa's body slammed into mine through the space between my thighs grew tighter and more violent.
"Ahh―!!"
Sensations crashed over me like waves, and my back arched slowly upward, my body twisting this way and that as moans burst out of me uncontrollably.
Oppa watched me, drenched and gasping in dopamine, as if savoring the expression on my face, and every time he did, that unreadable smile at the corner of his mouth only grew wider.
"Haneul, does it feel good?"
"Ahhh! G-Good? I don't… know, what is— nngh!? What is this… ngh!?"
At a loss, I kept spilling out words I couldn't understand myself, along with bursts of searing heat.
Oppa murmured something that sounded almost disrespectful, but none of it reached my reason-burned ears properly.
Hahh… it feels good… so good, hahh…
"Here I am giving you an autograph, and if you enjoy it more than your fans do, what am I supposed to do? At this point I honestly can't tell which of us wants the autograph more."
Oppa smirked wickedly at his own teasing words, and then suddenly stopped moving.
"Nngh…!? Ah…?"
Through the gap of his stillness, my consciousness barely clawed its way back, and his face began to lean slowly in toward mine.
At first I didn't understand what he was doing — then I realized it was a kiss, and I froze.
I'd dabbled in acting, but I'd never had a kiss scene, so this kiss with a stranger would have been my very first.
The sex had happened to me, unavoidable under the pretense of a "signature," but a kiss meant something different.
Like my first time, it was something precious I'd meant to give only to someone I truly loved — a partner, someday.
…No, this is… this is… this isn't right!
Feeling an inexplicable wrongness rise in me, I tried to refuse — and the moment I did, a voice rang through my skull like a bell being struck.
I darted my eyes sideways and saw a woman watching the two of us — or more precisely, watching oppa's face — with an expression of sheer delight. Then her eyes met mine.
She was beautiful, and yet a woman I had never seen before.
…Who is that woman…? When was she in this room?
The moment our gazes locked, her face went blank, wiping away every trace of humanity as if it had all been a lie.
The voice that rang out again carried a compulsion I could not refuse, and in an instant it upended something ordinary inside my head.
My mind went foggy, my blurred vision swam back into focus, and I thought again.
…Come to think of it, a kiss is part of the signature, isn't it?
Of course it is. Why on earth was I trying to refuse a kiss…?
Ashamed at myself for forgetting my professionalism even for a heartbeat, I turned my head back to where it had been, undoing the small sideways tilt I'd made to dodge the kiss.
Offering an apologetic smile, I closed my eyes steadily and parted my lips slightly, leaning them forward — as if to say it was fine, as if to ask for it.
Perhaps startled by my sudden shift to boldness, oppa hesitated — then his face flushed with excitement and his mouth came down on mine.
A soft peck.
A light kiss.
It was shy and ticklish and sweet, and my heart even fluttered.
Up to that point, it was everything I had imagined.
"Mmph…!?"
But then his lips parted and his tongue — rough, greedy, unrefined — slipped inside me and began to ravage every corner of my mouth like it was laying claim to it.
"Mmh… chuup, hah… o, oppa… mmh!"
Tongue tangled with tongue, our saliva mixing until neither of us could tell whose was whose.
I opened my mouth to say something, but oppa only widened his own and sealed my lips completely, hushing the sound, and began sucking on my tongue with slow, deep indulgence.
"Chup… chuuup, chup… haaah, chup, mmh, uuhmm…"
Lips and saliva and tongue wove together into sounds that were filthy and lewd and filling the room.
At some point, without my noticing, my hands had clasped themselves over both of his, and I was throwing myself into the kiss.
Then I tilted my head, pushed my tongue into his mouth, and answered him with everything I had.
And so the two of us spent a long while trading mouths and body heat and saliva in a dizzying blur.
"Hah…"
The kiss that felt like it could last a lifetime ended with oppa drawing his lips away first, a thick strand of saliva stretching between our mouths.
Unlike the flustered beginning, the moment our lips parted, I felt the loss.
Setting that aching pang aside, I kept my hands laced with his and looked up at him with damp eyes and wet lips, feeling a warm current of connection running between us.
"I-it was my first kiss… n-no, my first lip signature…"
"Hm? Ah… really…?"
At my shy, murmured confession, oppa's face registered surprise for the very first time.
The sex was one thing, but he apparently hadn't imagined that even a kiss would be a first for me.
Whether it was the afterglow of the kiss or not, my heart was still pounding with flutter, and my lower half ached insistently, begging to take him back inside.
Perhaps because we had joined bodies, feelings rose up in me that weren't a fan's but a lover's — and I shook my head hard at myself.
This isn't right… but… but… this is a signature, isn't it?
…Yes, right, a signature.
Giving fans a little extra service is just what a singer does for the love her fans give her. Yes. Yes.
"Um, oppa… this time, c-could I try… being on t-top…?"
When I begged him with a flushed face, oppa looked visibly flustered.
The frightening presence from moments ago had vanished without a trace, and watching him like that, the sadism sleeping inside me stirred quietly awake — and I found my courage.
"Lie down… please."
"Okay…"
He lay back obediently, just as I asked, and I climbed on top of him — and the whole world flipped, the view from before now completely reversed.
So this is what it feels like to look down from above…
A strange little smile bloomed on my lips before I knew it.
"This is my first time doing it this way… come to think of it, everything I sign for you really is a first, isn't it?"
The contradiction — thousands of signatures signed, and yet every single thing a first — no longer raised even a flicker of doubt in me.
Whatever it was, it was common sense now. It was normal.
"Right… this is common sense. This is obvious. Sex and kisses are part of the signature, so my being proactive about it is just what any professional would do."
I whispered it under my breath to justify the contradiction inside me and the hunger of my own body, then fumbled for his jutting length, gripped it steady, and began to lower my hips, slowly.
Schlup…
"Nnh!?"
Unlike the first time, the slick arousal that had pooled inside me swallowed him down smoothly, hungrily.
The broad, heavy head of him dragged across every sensitive ridge of my channel as I rose, and the moment its tip kissed the mouth of my womb, I peaked — an orgasm crashing through me.
"Ah…!?"
It was the first climax of my life, and confusion flooded me — but my body paid those feelings no mind at all, moving ruthlessly, solely in service of pleasure.
Just from taking him in, my hips trembled uncontrollably, and as if clinging to the wild bucking of a body beyond my control, I folded forward and wrapped my arms around oppa.
"Hah… Haneul? Don't tell me—"
"Hahh… nn… nngh… hahh… hnn… s'good, it feels so good… hnn…"
Something hot kept surging up through me in waves, and the inner walls of my channel clamped down around him reflexively, greedily, seeking still more pleasure.
Oppa said something in alarm, but it never reached my ears; for a long while I couldn't gather myself, just shaking in his arms, holding him close.
And as he pulled me tight against his chest and soothed me like a beloved doll, my heart thundered wildly.
I like you. I like you. I like you… I love you.
"Hahh… I-I'm sorry…"
Once I finally came back to myself, I realized what a state I'd shown him, struggled upright, and apologized.
Gathering my strength, I began to move my hips, clumsily but earnestly, following the breeding-deep flow of genetics etched into my body.
"Nngh… hah, haah…"
Perhaps it was because I'd already climaxed, but even the smallest movement made my lower half spark with sensitivity; still I worked myself along him, and ended up looking down at oppa, his eyes closed in pleasure.
The reversed view — a fan receiving my signature below me, drenched in ecstasy — sent a shivery thrill, a feeling I'd never once known, climbing up my spine.
This situation — him gazing at me and me alone, worshipping my body — was just like the burning eyes of the crowds that watched me dance on stage.
I wanted… I wanted to make him feel even better.
To make him rave.
To turn him into a fan who would never look at another idol or singer for the rest of his life — who would see only me, me alone!
No — more than some shallow bond like that, even…
"Oppa… I'm going to carve a signature into you that will never, ever fade — right here, inside you."
And before I knew it, that corrupted smile was blooming at the corner of my mouth again.