The Small Dick Club: SPH-THEMED STORIES

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Part 5…

“I can’t believe her!” Aria exclaimed as she threw her cellphone on the couch. My wife looked like she was seething.

I leaned forward, grabbing her phone before it slid off the cushion. “What happened?” I asked cautiously.

Aria’s fingers dug into the armrest like she was trying to crush it. “Ji-yeon posted a goddamn TikTok,” she spat out. “Some fake-ass ‘cultural appreciation’ bullshit where she’s wearing a durag and twerking to K Camp in her kitchen while her white husband laughs off-camera.” She exhaled sharply through her nose.

“What the fuck is ‘Tick Tock’ and who’s Kay Camp?” I asked, dumbfounded. It was 2019, and little did my 48-year-old ass know that TikTok was the next hottest social media app and Renegade was splashing all over the airwaves.

Aria groaned and snatched her phone back, tapping angrily at the screen. “Oh my God, Scott, I swear…” Her voice trailed off as she pulled up the video again. The tinny sound of bass-heavy music spilled out, accompanied by Ji-yeon’s exaggerated arm movements and that mocking laugh from somewhere behind the camera. Aria’s jaw tightened. “See this?” She jabbed at the screen. “That’s not appreciation. And look at her!”

I did. Ji-yeon looked striking. High cheekbones, large Bambi-eyes, that perpetually smug tilt to her chin. Even now, mid-twerk, she moved with a kind of precision that made it clear she was performing. For her husband. For everyone. And yeah, objectively, she was hot. But watching Aria’s nostrils flare, I knew better than to say that out loud.

“Wait,” I said, leaning closer, “isn’t she the one from your office? The one who ‘accidentally’ left kimchi in the break room fridge for three weeks?”

Aria’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, she absolutely knows what she’s doing.” She flicked the video off and tossed the phone aside as if it were contaminated. “That’s the whole point. She’s fake as hell! Every calculated move, every little ‘oops, did I offend you?’ smirk. This?” She gestured wildly at the darkened screen. “This is just her latest performance. She doesn’t give a shit about Black culture. She just wants the likes.”

I frowned, rubbing the back of my neck. “Okay… so what do you care? Block her, mute her, whatever. Why’s this getting under your skin so bad?”

Aria’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Because she’s everywhere, Scott. At work, she’s the golden child with flawless reports, bringing in homemade japchae for the boss, laughing just a little too loud at his jokes. And now this?” She gestured at her phone again. “She’s just so fake!”

Aria continued, “I was talking to Min-jun in IT. His wife is Korean, and he admitted that all Korean women are bat-shit crazy and so into status and class. That’s why Ji-yeon married some tall, white dude. She gets to be the exotic trophy wife while looking down on everyone else.” Her fingers drummed against her thigh, quick and restless. “One day, I’d like to take her down a peg.”

I sighed. “Baby, you’re talking like we’re in high school. How serious are you?”

Aria leaned in, her eyes flashing. “Dead serious.” She lowered her voice. “Last week, I overheard her in the break room talking to Eun-jung. She said,” Aria’s jaw clenched, mimicking Ji-yeon’s affected tone, “Ugh, Black men look like animals. That’s why I married a white guy. They’re so much more manly than Korean men and so gentlemanly. ”

I sighed. “Baby, that sounds like some racist shit.”

Aria scoffed, throwing her hands up. “Exactly!”

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. But you know Korean culture’s obsessed with pale skin, right? Like, historically? It’s tied to class: peasants worked in the sun; aristocrats stayed inside. Ji-yeon’s probably just regurgitating that colonial-era bullshit.”

Aria scoffed. “Oh, so she gets a pass cause she’s brainwashed?” She stood abruptly, pacing the living room, her slippers slapping against the hardwood. “No. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s got this curated Instagram aesthetic. Matcha lattes, hanbok photoshoots, interracial couple hashtags. But behind closed doors? Racist as hell.” She stopped mid-step, eyes widening. “Wait… Scott. That’s it.”

I groaned. “Oh no. You’re scheming. I recognize that look.”

Aria didn’t respond right away. Instead, she tapped her fingers against her lips, her gaze distant. A slow smirk curled her mouth. “She’s always bragging about how progressive she is, how open-minded,” Aria murmured. “But she’s never been with a Black man, has she? Never even tried.” She glanced at me, her smirk deepening. “What if she had to?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Wait—hold on. You’re not talking about…”

Aria’s grin was all teeth. “Oh, I am. Think about it… She talks all this shit about Black men being ‘animals,’ but she’s never had one inside her.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Imagine her face when she realizes she’s been wrong this whole time. When she’s taken by one.” Her fingers twitched like she was already picturing it.

I rubbed my temples. “Okay, first—Vancouver’s like 90% Asian and white. Where the hell are you gonna find a Black man willing to… y’know, in this scenario?”

Aria scoffed, flicking her wrist dismissively. “Please. Jasmine’s been dating that basketball player for what, six months now?”

My eyebrows shot up. “You’re talking about Darius? You think Jasmine would let him fuck Ji-yeon? She hasn’t even let you try him out.”

Aria’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. She stretched her legs out on the couch, toes flexing against the coffee table. “Who said I haven’t?”

I blinked. “Wait—what?”

“Relax, Honey,” Aria said as she leaned in to comfort me, “It was just a blowjob.” She let out a soft chuckle as she rubbed my crotch.

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you… I was just waiting to tell you when we had some time to play.” Aria’s fingers traced slow circles over my growing bulge as she watched my reaction, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Last Thursday, after yoga. Jasmine invited me for drinks, and Darius showed up halfway through.”

The loud rasp of my zipper cut through the silence as Aria tugged my pants down just enough to free my hardening cock. Her fingers wrapped around me, pulling my foreskin down to reveal my shiny cock head oozing precum. “Darius is… impressive,” she murmured, thumbing my slit with deliberate pressure. “Thick and curved.” Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “Can you just imagine a racist like Ji-yeon being bred by a black cock?”

I groaned as she stroked me faster, her fingers twisting just beneath the head where I was most sensitive. The image of Ji-yeon’s porcelain white thighs trembling as Darius split her open flashed in my mind. Aria’s smile widened when she saw my cock twitch in her grip. “Oh, you like that idea,” she purred, gripping me tighter.

Her lips wrapped around my tip, sucking hard enough to make my toes curl. My hands gripped the couch as Aria’s cheeks filled with my cock. The pressure built too fast, and I barely managed to rasp, “I’m gonna—” before my hips jerked up, spilling into her mouth.

Aria pulled off and opened her mouth wide, tilting her head back so I could see my cum pooling on her tongue. “Tastes better than Darius’,” she murmured before swallowing with exaggerated satisfaction. “But his loads are bigger.”

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, eyes locked on mine. “So,” she said, shifting her weight against my thigh. “Are you in?” Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my softening cock. “We make Ji-yeon realize how wrong she is?”

I exhaled sharply, still riding the aftershocks of my orgasm. The thought of prim and proper Ji-yeon getting wrecked by Darius was… compelling. “Yeah,” I admitted, watching Aria’s smirk widen. “Yeah, I’m in.”

Aria’s fingers tightened around my wrist, tugging me forward until our lips brushed. “Good,” she whispered against my mouth. Then, with a sharp nip to my lower lip, she leaned back. “Now take me to the bedroom and eat me out like you mean it.”

The next day, Aria set the plan in motion by calling Jasmine and working out the details. I would have thought Jasmine would be hesitant about sharing her boy-toy, but we’ve grown so close to Jasmine over the years, and Jasmine and Aria have shared so many cocks that Jasmine didn’t hesitate to agree. Jasmine even scoffed over the speakerphone. “She sounds like she secretly wants a black cock, she just doesn’t wanna admit it.”

By Friday, Darius had slid into Ji-yeon’s DMs under a fake account called @LuxuryNoirBrand, posing as a scout for an upscale streetwear label. His opener was smooth: “Saw your TikToks. You move like our muse. Let’s collab?” Attached was a mock-up contract with a six-figure offer. Ji-yeon bit instantly. Her reply: “OMG, yes! When can we meet?”

Jasmine pulled strings with an old flame, a real estate mogul who owned a penthouse overlooking Stanley Park—the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows that made the city look like a glittering chessboard. By Saturday night, Darius was lounging on the cream-colored sectional, shirtless, sipping Don Julio 1942. Ji-yeon arrived in a skintight Heron Preston dress, her Bambi eyes widening at the panoramic view. “Wow,” she breathed. “This is… amazing.”

From the spare bedroom, we watched the carefully placed nanny-cam feeds as Darius poured Ji-yeon a drink. “She’s nervous,” Jasmine whispered, pointing at the screen where Ji-yeon’s knee bounced under the coffee table. “Look at her grip on that glass,” Aria smirked, her nails digging into my thigh. “Good. She should be.”

“Why don’t you show me that dance you posted?” Darius murmured, fingertips grazing Ji-yeon’s wrist as he refilled her glass. The tequila sloshed dangerously close to the rim when her hand twitched. “I bet you move even better in person.”

Ji-yeon set her glass down as she let out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, that?” She waved a hand dismissively, but her hips were already shifting, the fabric of her dress pulling taut across her thighs. “That was just a silly little thing.” Darius leaned back, spreading his arms along the couch, his biceps flexing. “So show me, silly,” he said, voice dropping an octave.

The Bluetooth speaker suddenly pulsed with the deep bass of K Camp’s “Renegade” as Darius tapped his phone. Ji-yeon froze mid-sip, her lips wet with tequila. Darius grinned, slow and knowing. “Come on, babygirl. Show me how you move when you’re not performing for white boys.” Her steps teetered as she stood, hips already swaying despite herself, her movements smaller now, less exaggerated. More real.

The first twerk was stiff, her hands gripping the hem of her dress like she was afraid it would ride up. Ji-yeon exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders back. Then she did it again, slower this time, her ass pressing deliberately against the air, her knees bent just right. The rhythm took over, and her countless hours of practice showed. Her hips moved like liquid, her arms making the same exaggerated gestures from the TikTok.

Darius’ laugh rumbled through the room. “Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured, leaning forward to grip her waist.

The three of us could see Ji-yeon giggling nervously in the camera feed, her fingers playfully swatting Darius’ hands as he guided her hips into a slower grind. “You’re not bad,” he murmured, his thumbs digging into the dip of her waist. “But you’re still thinking too much.” His hands slid down, palming her ass through the thin fabric, and Ji-yeon’s breath gasped at Darius’s unexpected advances. Jasmine let out a quiet snort beside me. “Look at her,” she whispered. “She’s never been handled like this.”

“Whoa!” Ji-yeon gasped as Darius yanked her back against him, her ass grinding against the unmistakable bulge in his pants. Her hands fluttered to his wrists, but she didn’t pull away; she just gripped him tighter as he rolled her hips in slow circles. “You’re—ah—really strong,” she stammered, her voice breathy. Darius chuckled, nipping at her earlobe. “And you’re adorable.”

“Um, thank you,” Ji-yeon nodded nervously as she straightened her dress, her fingers trembling against the hem. “I-I’m married… We sh-shouldn’t…”

“Oh, that white boy I saw in your videos?” Darius laughed, his fingers tightening on her hips. “He doesn’t make you move like this.” His knee nudged her legs apart, guiding her into a deeper grind. Ji-yeon gasped when his cock pressed against her ass, thick and insistent through his jeans. She was entranced, her resistance crumbling as his lips traced the curve of her neck. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, amused. “Never had a real man before, huh?”

Ji-yeon didn’t say a word… she just closed her eyes as Darius ran his hands up her sides, her breath labouring when his thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts. The dress was tight enough that every touch was magnified, and when Darius leaned in to whisper, “You want this,” her knees buckled slightly as his teeth grazed her earlobe, and her “no” came out as a shuddering exhale.

“Are you sure you don’t want this? Darius asked as he stepped back and undid his pants, letting his thick black cock spring free. Ji-yeon’s Bambi-eyes grew even bigger as her gaze locked on his girth, her lips parting slightly as she unconsciously licked them. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her fingers twitching at her sides. Darius smirked, gripping himself and giving a slow stroke, watching her pupils dilate. “Tell me to stop,” he challenged, stepping closer until his head brushed against her stomach, leaving a slick trail of precum on her designer dress.

“It’s so black,” Ji-yeon breathed, her fingers hovering just above his shaft like she was afraid to touch. Darius chuckled low in his throat, pressing forward until the tip nudged against her hand. “Say the word, and I walk away,” he said. Ji-yeon’s thighs clenched together, her breath ragged when his thumb swiped over her parted lips. “But you don’t want that, do you?”

“Ohmygod!” Aria exclaimed in a hushed whisper, gripping my arm as we watched Ji-yeon’s fingers tentatively wrap around Darius’s shaft on the nanny-cam feed. Her nails dug into my skin as Ji-yeon’s pink lips parted.

Ji-yeon’s knees wobbled as she stroked Darius slowly, her fingers barely meeting around his girth. “It’s… hotter than I thought,” she murmured, her thumb swiping across the leaking tip before bringing it to her lips.

Jasmine snorted beside us. “Bet she’s never had chocolate dick before.”

Darius grinned, guiding Ji-yeon’s hand tighter around him. “Keep going,” he rumbled, watching her cheeks flush as she pumped him faster, her other hand braced against his chest for balance.

When Darius suddenly gripped the back of her neck, Ji-yeon gasped, “No, I can’t do this. Not with a black—” but her protest died as his mouth crashed onto hers, swallowing her words. She melted against him, her fingers tightening around his cock as his tongue invaded her mouth.

Aria’s nails dug into my thigh. “Fuck, she’s gonna break,” she whispered. On screen, Ji-yeon’s legs trembled as Darius walked her backward toward the sectional, his free hand hiking up her dress.

He turned her abruptly, pressing her face-first into the couch cushions, and hooked his fingers under the thin strap of her G-string. With one sharp tug, the fabric snapped to the side, exposing her dripping cunt. Ji-yeon whimpered as Darius traced her pussy lips with his cock head, her hips jerking involuntarily. “Look at this,” he growled, dragging his cockhead through her slick. “Married white boy never made you this wet.”

Her breath strained when he pressed against her entrance, not pushing in yet, just rubbing slow, torturous circles that made her thighs shake. Ji-yeon’s fingers clawed at the upholstery, her ass arching back toward him instinctively. Darius
pulled away just as she whined, leaving her empty and trembling. “Say it,” he demanded, gripping her hips tight enough to bruise. “Tell me you want this black cock inside you.”

Ji-yeon’s voice cracked on the first try. “I—I can’t—” Darius thrust shallowly, just the tip stretching her, and she gasped, her back bowing. “Mmmm, give it to me,” she finally moaned, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. “Fill me up with your horse cock.” Darius didn’t hesitate. He slammed into her with one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt as Ji-yeon’s scream dissolved into ragged panting.

“Aaghh! You’re splitting me open!” Ji-yeon wailed, her manicured fingers clawing at the couch cushions as Darius bottomed out inside her. Her thighs quivered violently around his hips, the thick veins of his cock straining against her stretched walls on the nanny-cam feed. Darius growled low in his throat, gripping her waist as he pulled out slowly, watching her flinch at the drag of his girth before slamming back in. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he gritted out, his hips snapping forward again. “Bet your white husband never fucked you this deep.”

“P-please! Slower,” Ji-yeon begged as she tried to push Darius back with one outstretched arm, her fingers trembling against his abs. Darius caught her wrist effortlessly, pinning it against the small of her back as his thrusts turned relentless, each snap of his hips forcing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her other hand scrambled to balance herself on the couch, her French-tipped nails digging into the upholstery when he hit a spot that made her spine arch violently. “Oh God! Right there!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as her thighs clenched around him involuntarily.

Darius released her arm, and Ji-yeon used it to pull her ass cheek wider, as if begging him deeper. “Filthy little racist,” he murmured, gripping her hips tighter as his thrusts turned punishing. The sound of his balls slapping against her skin mingled with Ji-yeon’s high-pitched whimpers. “Say it again,” Darius demanded, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Tell me how bad you want this black cock.” Ji-yeon’s response was a garbled moan as he angled her hips higher, forcing her to take every inch.

“Y-you fucking animal!” Ji-yeon screamed as Darius slapped her ass hard enough to leave a handprint, the sharp crack echoing through the room. Her cunt clenched around him in response, her body betraying her as she ground back against his thrusts.

Darius’s hands reached forward to grasp Ji-yeon’s perfectly round and fake tits (no doubt bought during one of her trips back to Seoul). He began ramming into her harder, faster, making her breasts bounce wildly against her tight dress. Ji-yeon’s moans turned into high-pitched wails as her body betrayed her completely. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I’m—” she started to scream before her voice cut off, her entire body seizing up as her orgasm ripped through her. Darius didn’t slow down as he felt her cunt clamp around him like a vise. “That’s right,” he growled, “cum on this black dick you pretend to hate.”

Ji-yeon collapsed forward onto the couch, her arms giving out completely as Darius continued pounding into her from behind. Her legs trembled violently, her expensive heels kicking uselessly against the floor. She turned her head to the side, her cheek pressed against the leather as drool leaked from her slack mouth. “Please… no more…” she whimpered weakly, but her hips still twitched back against him with each thrust.

A second orgasm tore through Ji-yeon before she could catch her breath, her toes curling as Darius dragged his cockhead along her sensitive walls with each withdrawal. “Fuck—Fuck—Fuck—” she sobbed, her voice raw as her body convulsed beneath him, her dress riding up around her waist. Darius gripped her hips tighter, his thrusts turning jagged as his own climax built. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt,” he growled against her neck.

“N-no! P-please! I’m not on the pill!” Ji-yeon gasped, her words slurring as Darius bottomed out inside her. “Cum in my mouth instead!” Her trembling fingers reached back to stroke his thigh in a desperate plea. Darius exhaled sharply, pulling out his cream-covered cock as Ji-yeon rolled onto her back, her legs shaking apart. “Open,” he commanded, pressing his dripping cock against her lips. She obeyed instantly, her Bambi eyes fluttering shut as the first thick pulse hit her tongue.

Her hands grasped his length to milk every drop, her fingers tightening rhythmically as Darius groaned above her. Ji-yeon’s throat worked to swallow as ropes of cum painted the back of her mouth. When he finally pulled free, strands of white clung to her swollen lips.

Ji-yeon gasped for breath, wiping her chin with a shaky hand. Her lipstick was smeared, her usually immaculate hair now tangled.

“You’re not done,” Darius growled, gripping her hair and pushing her back onto his cock before she could recover. Ji-yeon choked as he shoved past her lips again, her fingers instinctively wrapping around his thick shaft to steady herself. Her tongue worked frantically under the weight of his thrusts, saliva dripping onto her ruined dress as her mouth choked on his fat cock. One hand kneaded his heavy balls, her fingertips pressing into the sensitive skin just enough to make his hips jerk forward.

The taste of herself mixed with his saltiness coated her tongue, and Ji-yeon’s eyes rolled back when Darius groaned, “How does it feel,” he asked, thumbing her bottom lip, “to have been fucked by a nigger?” Ji-yeon flinched at the word—the same one she’d whispered to Eun-jung in the break room—, but her thighs squeezed together, slick with arousal.

Her hands trembled as Darius pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to meet his gaze in the mirror on the wall. “Look at you,” he said, dragging his fingers through her smeared lipstick. “White men don’t make you blush like this.” Ji-yeon looked at their reflection. Her once-pristine dress bunched around her waist, her pale white skin next to his ebony hue, his slick black cock that looked like it belonged on an animal. The shame burned hotter than the pleasure.

Ji-yeon couldn’t believe Darius’s phallus was still hard and bobbing in the air, even after dumping his load down her throat. She stared at it intently in the reflection, mesmerized by its unnatural stamina. Her husband’s cock deflated faster than a popped balloon after cumming. Yet here was Darius, still rock-hard and ready for round 2.

Ji-yeon bit her bottom lip as she found herself stripping completely out of her ruined dress, her trembling fingers making quick work of the zipper as her gaze never left his black cock.

She took Darius’s hand and led him to the sofa, where she sat with her naked body and held her lifted legs with her hands, presenting herself shamelessly. Darius smirked at her exposed pussy, still glistening from their first round.

“Wait,” Ji-yeon said as she dropped her legs. Her hands scrambled for her purse and dug out a condom wrapper, her fingers shaking as she tore it open. “Please, use this,” she begged, attempting to roll the latex onto Darius’s cock with clumsy urgency.

Darius chuckled as she watched her struggle as the condom refused to stretch around his girth. Ji-yeon’s frantic fingers repeatedly slipped against the latex. Finally, the condom snapped with an audible pop, landing on the floor between them like a discarded candy wrapper. Ji-yeon stared at it, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her husband never had trouble fitting into this condom brand, she thought to herself.

“Fuck it!” Ji-yeon exclaimed in exasperation, “I want to feel you cum in my pussy, and I get what I want!” She grabbed Darius’s cock and guided it toward her entrance, her breath straining as the swollen head pressed against her still-sensitive folds. “J-just fill me up again!”

“Beg for it properly,” Darius commanded, gripping her chin as her thighs trembled around his waist. Ji-yeon’s cheeks blushed as she whimpered, “Please… breed me like the dirty little race traitor I am.”

Darius split her open with one brutal thrust, slamming Ji-yeon’s back against the sofa cushions as her choked scream turned into ragged panting. His hips pistoned relentlessly, each thrust forward forcing a fresh tear from her eyes as her bouncing tits jiggled wildly beneath him.

Ji-yeon clawed at his shoulders, her manicured nails leaving red streaks across his dark skin. “Fuck! You’re-ah-stretching me out!” she gasped, her thighs clamping around his waist involuntarily as another orgasm ripped through her.

Darius grabbed his phone from the coffee table and angled the camera down at Ji-yeon’s flushed face, her smeared lipstick and tear-streaked cheeks glistening under the lights. “Smile for the ‘Gram, baby,” he growled, thrusting deep as the shutter clicked. Ji-yeon’s eyes widened with horror, then rolled back as another orgasm wracked her body, her cunt pulsing around him in rhythmic spasms.

Her manicured hands flew up to cover the lens too late. The flash captured her perfectly with her mouth slack, eyes unfocused, and Darius’s thick black cock stretching her swollen lips obscenely. “No—please—” she begged, but Darius just laughed, tossing the phone aside to grip her hips tighter. “Too late,” he murmured, his thrusts turning jagged. “Now take this black seed like a good little slut.”

Ji-yeon’s pussy trembled as Darius bottomed out inside her one last time, his balls slapping against her ass as he came with a guttural groan. She could feel every pulse of his cock as he emptied himself deep into her, her cunt clenching around him to milk every drop. When he finally pulled out, the last thick spurt landed across her flushed cheeks and parted lips, hot and sticky against her skin.

Darius wiped his cock on the discarded dress before stepping back, admiring his handiwork. Ji-yeon’s legs were still spread wide, her thighs slick with sweat and cum, her pussy gaping slightly as his seed leaked out. He grabbed his phone again, snapping one last picture of Ji-yeon’s ruined face smeared with cum. “Perfect,” he murmured, tucking the phone into his pocket before tossing her a towel.

“You’re a good fuck,” Darius mused, tossing Ji-yeon’s designer dress onto her trembling body like an afterthought. He scrolled through the photos on his phone with deliberate slowness, letting her see the glossy screen of her smeared makeup, her gaping pussy, his cum dripping down her thighs. “But I’m afraid my company can’t use you as a brand ambassador once these pics leak out.” Ji-yeon’s breath hitched, her fingers clutching the towel like a lifeline. “What?” she whispered, her voice raw. “You—you said this was a collab—”

Darius laughed, tucking his phone away as he pulled his jeans back on, his cock still half-hard beneath the denim. “And you said you weren’t a racist. Guess we’re both liars.” Ji-yeon flinched when his fingers brushed her cheek, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “Tell your husband thanks for the pussy,” he murmured, turning to leave. Ji-yeon scrambled to her knees, the towel slipping from her grasp. “Wait! Please,” Her fingers clawed at his wrist, her Bambi eyes wide with panic. “I can’t let those pictures get out. What if we make a deal?”

“What could you possibly have to offer me?” Darius asked.

“What if I—I gave you me?”

Darius paused at the door, turning to see Ji-yeon on her knees, her thighs still glistening with his cum. Her hands trembled as she reached for his belt buckle, her voice barely above a whisper. “Whenever you want,” she added, her gaze flickering to the bulge in his jeans. Darius tilted her chin up with two fingers, studying the desperation in her eyes. “You’d be my personal little fucktoy?” he murmured, thumb brushing her swollen lips. Ji-yeon nodded eagerly, her tongue slipping out to lick his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll think about it,” Darius said. He grabbed her phone from the coffee table and swiped to her husband’s contact before tossing it onto her naked thighs. “Call him. Tell him you want an open marriage and that you’re bringing a special guest for dinner tonight. Make it convincing.” Ji-yeon’s hands shook as she picked up the device, the phone already ringing.

Her husband answered on the third ring, his cheerful “Hey, babe!” making Ji-yeon’s stomach twist. Darius leaned in close enough for his breath to ghost across her bare shoulder, his fingers trailing down her spine. “I-I’ve been thinking about that thing you said you wanted to try… the threesome,” she stammered, her voice pitching high at the end, making it sound like a question.

“I’m bringing someone home tonight.” Ji-yeon continued as she answered the flood of questions her husband was asking her on the phone.

“Uh-huh.”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

“No, not Asian.”

“Um, black.”

“You’ll see, Honey.”

“Ok, love you! See you soon!”

Ji-yeon tapped the phone to end the call and immediately gave Darius a deep kiss.

“Good work, babe,” Darius responded as he smacked her ass. “Now get dressed and head out, I’ve got some business associates coming here for a meeting in ten minutes.”

Ji-yeon scrambled for her ruined dress, pulling it over her sticky thighs with trembling hands. She glanced at Darius’s phone screen, the incriminating photos still glowing, before biting her lip and adjusting her smeared lipstick with shaky fingers.

“I bet your husband’s expecting you to bring home a black woman for your threesome.” Darius mused. “He’s gonna be in for a surprise.”

Ji-yeon tugged at her hemline, her fingers still trembling as she smoothed down the wrinkled fabric of her dress. The silk clung uncomfortably to her damp thighs, the evidence of Darius’s possession still seeping between her legs. “He’ll get over it,” she murmured, more to herself than to Darius.

As Ji-yeon left the penthouse, Aria and Jasmine emerged from the spare bedroom, their laughter bubbling up like champagne. Jasmine stretched her arms overhead, her silk blouse riding up to reveal the faint bruises Darius had left on her hips last weekend. “Well?” she grinned, plucking a stray eyelash from Aria’s cheek. “Told you she’d break.”

I followed out of the spare bedroom to see Jasmine peeling off her blouse with a wicked smirk, the silk whispering against her skin as it pooled on the penthouse floor. She arched her back, unhooking her bra with practiced fingers before turning to Darius.

“You were perfect, Sweetie.” Jasmine purred, pressing her bare chest against Darius’s back while her fingers traced his abs.

Aria licked her lips as she approached Darius, her fingers already working the button of his jeans. “Good boys get rewarded,” she murmured, sinking to her knees. Darius groaned as her hot mouth enveloped him, tasting the remains of Ji-yeon’s cream. Jasmine quickly joined her, her slender fingers grasping Darius’s fat cock as she positioned herself beneath Aria, their tongues swirling together around his cock.

“Grab me a beer,” Marcus barked to me as he leaned back to enjoy his front-row view, his fingers already working Aria’s tits. “Just one blow, girls… I’ve got to save something for tonight.”

I cracked open a cold Sapporo and handed it to Darius as I settled in to watch Aria and Jasmine service his black cock. “So,” I said, “think you and Jasmine will have time to come to our place this weekend?”

*****

Part 6…To Be Continued…?

 

 

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