"..."
While I still didn’t know what he meant to do and was only letting out ragged, uneven breaths, he kissed my lips, then straightened up and drew back. The way his thick penis, clenched so tight it felt like it might burst me open, pulled the mucosa backward as it slid out was so vivid that I lifted my head without thinking and looked down. As if to tell me to watch, he glanced up at me through a sweat-damp face and grinned.
“Ahhh...”
When everything slipped out and only the glans remained, I shook my head and made a strange sound, not sure if it was from anticipation or fear.
His shaft, scraping sharply along the upper rim of the entrance as it pulled free, snapped back with hard elasticity and thudded against his lower belly, quivering. The fluids tangled on his penis splashed everywhere.
The sensation of slick seeping from the hole that was obviously still open and not yet closed made gooseflesh ripple up my upper arms. Sometimes that feeling—fluid draining out of me—felt like the most visceral proof of sex.
I hunched my shoulders and drew my legs in at the eerie thrill I never would’ve felt if I hadn’t used a place I’d never considered and had sex with an alpha.
Watching me with a serious face, his hand stroking down his own cock, he walked out through the open door and came back with the phone from the table. What he had in his hand was my phone.
I sat up slowly, not catching on to what he meant to do. He climbed onto the bed, his erection—annoyingly in the way—leading. He looked briefly surprised the screen wasn’t locked, tapped a few times, then suddenly stuck his arm out and tilted his head this way and that toward the display.
The moment I realized he’d started recording, my hips slid backward without me meaning them to. He slid in close between my legs in a flash and tugged me in by the waist.
As his leg wedged under my thigh and our groins drew close, our two erections brushed. Just that had my nape tingling; I opened my mouth to his kiss in surrender.
“Mm—uh, mm... mnh.”
I was aware of the camera catching the right side of my face, but because my erection had lasted so long, making me hypersensitive, my body wanted his kiss more.
His suction on my lower lip let go. I probably looked blatantly disappointed, but I didn’t have the bandwidth to fix it.
“This is Seo Ihyeon’s phone... and whatever happens to the file after we’re done—” he said, “that’s up to you.”
“...”
Under my lifted lids, he looked at me steadily.
“How about it. Not interested?”
Amazingly, I was interested.
A filthy curiosity tugged at me—how we’d look in the phone he was angling at us. Was I really this sexually curious, this bold? Sex with him was always an encounter with unfamiliar sensations—and an unfamiliar self.
I stroked the arm toying with my waist and pressed my lips to his, firm. He tilted his chin so the kiss could go deeper. Using only his lips, he smoothed over me, catching and releasing in turns.
I ran my hand up his bare shoulder and wrapped my fingers around the firm length of his nape. I opened my mouth to take his lips. Our mouths traded positions—up and down, down and up—overlapping and slipping.
We didn’t often close our eyes when we kissed.
I don’t know if most people really shut their eyes when they kiss, like media images show. I don’t even know why he doesn’t. I didn’t have a reason at first either.
I was simply curious what he looked like while kissing; over time, I didn’t want to lose a single moment of him, even during the kiss, so I stopped closing my eyes out of greed. I wanted to feel him with every sense I could bring to bear, not just lips and tongue. Even if that was a lewd desire, I didn’t care.
I like him, and he likes me... I’m in a bed with someone who (very likely) does, so what if it’s a little obscene.
Maybe his “don’t feel guilty” finally worked on me, because for me, the thought felt pretty cheeky.
Even now, with our eyes open and our tongues tangling, I couldn’t ignore the phone in his left hand—now a third presence on this bed.
Even so, my arousal and focus didn’t falter at all. If anything, the front-camera view trained on us made my skin tense and honed the senses that felt him.
“Hh... hhn, mnh... hh, ngh.”
Choking my breath, filling my mouth, then retreating to scrape the inside of my cheek and the mucosa behind my lips, his tongue’s supple caress drew moans from me, and the thought that even these sobbing sounds were being recorded made me compress my throat and drop my volume.
Sensing my awareness, he smiled, pecked my lips, and then, lightly holding the tip of my chin, rubbed our lip surfaces together and whispered.
“Look at the screen. Us kissing.”
Like a coward peeking through his fingers at a horror film, I cautiously shifted my eyes.
I stuck my tongue out to meet the supplicating roll of his tongue as it curled to lick behind mine—mm, mnh... hmmm. He swallowed me at once, suction so strong it stung.
While he cinched my tongue and adjusted framing with a sidelong glance, the me on the screen was locked in a dense kiss with him—so # Nоvеlight # vivid it almost felt more real than the actual scene.
No, the me on-screen looked far more sexual than the real me. I felt like I was still hesitating, still defensive... but the me on the screen was blatant, bold, and looked like he was enjoying it. Which one is real?
The sight of me with hazy, unfocused eyes, sucking his tongue and groaning from the back of my throat, was stranger than meeting a stranger for the first time today.
The glossy red flash of flesh between his lips and my teeth—bits not yet swallowed down—was stronger than my first accidental clicks into porn as a boy.
“Hhh, ngh. Mnh. Mmm—hmm... mmm.”
He pushed the phone farther out, and his face came into frame beside mine.
Instead of facing each other head-on as usual, we angled our faces toward the phone, monitoring ourselves and each other in real time and testing arousal through those reflected versions.
Rubbing lips together, deliberately rubbing tongues outside our mouths, tangling and flipping—every not-so-romantic step of the kiss was exposed, frame by frame, along with the blinking red dot at the top of the screen.
The versions in the screen were us and also looked like androids modeled on us. The first shock that seemed to slam into my sense of self dissipated far easier than I’d expected; what followed was a natural curiosity—like someone watching their own android. Or maybe this is what it would feel like to see a mirror for the first time in twenty-some years of life.
It wasn’t just me. He, too, showed frank interest in the new game he’d proposed.
Swirling his tongue into my mouth and checking my reactions through the display, he stroked the back of my neck, then drew me closer, lightly catching and releasing my lips with his.
“Can’t take your eyes off the screen, huh. Who are you falling for? Which one? Hm?”
I looked away like it wasn’t true, playing off his teasing tone—as if he found it cute—but like how appetite stirs when you watch someone eat on TV, I couldn’t deny that our obscene tangling on the screen was stoking my sex drive.
Instead of pushing for an answer, he used the arm I had around his neck to pet down my torso, then moved lower. I lifted my chin to the lips burrowing into my nape, and my eyes met myself in the screen; for some reason, my core tightened.
He pushed my leg off his thigh to bend my knee. When I hesitated and adjusted as he guided me, he slid a hand under my balls.
“Mm—hhn....”
When I tipped my head back and leaned my upper body away, my center shifted backward and my spread opened more; his fingers toyed with the wet anal that the earlier penetration had softened. He ducked his head to check and pressed here and there, thorough as an inspection, then, lingering at the entrance with an intentional, suggestive rub, he pulled his fingers out and looked up at me.
Ding. Ding. The first video ended, and the second started immediately. With his long thumb he tapped the icon at the lower right of the screen and flipped the camera. The rear camera suddenly came right up before my chest.
In an extreme close-up fit for an experimental indie film, the frame shaky and unstable, my nipples, knotted hard, were perfectly visible even to my own eyes.
“Haa... ha... hhn....”
Nothing touched my body, yet my moan lifted like I was being lavishly teased. My arms, braced on the sheet, trembled; my chest flinched. With a face almost investigative in its seriousness, he shifted angles back and forth, absorbed in staging my nipples on the screen.
“...”
His hand stopped; his gaze slid up slowly and fixed on me—because, on the screen, my own hand had started to toy with my nipple.
The nipples, gathered into a sensitive reddish nub, were faintly swollen from last night’s long teasing. I used my middle finger and stroked the thick little mound up from below, again and again.
He panted, those broad, thick shoulders rising like someone angry. Watching my nipple bend and round on the display, he pulled the camera back and lunged at my chest himself.
“Hh—ngh, mm... m—mph.”
His tongue lapped over my finger. Filming the finger and tongue tangling over a single tiny nipple, he showed no hesitation about being aware of the him on-screen.
Looking down at the real him and the screen him in turns, I slowly slid the finger that had been tormenting my nipple into his mouth. He glanced up at me, then opened wide and took my nipple and my fingertip at once. Feeling my finger roll in his mouth alongside the tight nub made my back arch and my hips lift.
The lower half, rummaged halfway and left empty, kept twitching, wanting to be packed tight again. Like it or not, I couldn’t reach a satisfying release anymore with ejaculation from my penis alone.
“Mm—ngh... mm... mnh.”
So much precum had already flowed that I wondered if any semen would even come out when I climaxed. My penis ached now. How could he stay hard so long and hold back his release like this—was that a golden alpha sexual trait too?
But I, a perfectly ordinary twenty-two-year-old beta, now wanted to grind inside with his penis and reach climax. Wanted it badly.
Sensing the animal edge of me driven to the wall, he pursed his lips and spat my finger out, then suctioned my nipple hard as if to crush it. Even as he sucked, his tongue flicked fast at the tip.
“Hhhn—ngh, ha—ah.”
Kicking my calves like stomping and curling my back, I dragged his head in. His body pressed forward and covered me.
Unable to resist the weight barreling into me, I toppled back to the sheet and lifted my hips into the air. I rubbed my rigid penis hard over his chest as he twisted his jaw and chewed my nipple harder and harder.
“Ugh. Th—hngh. Ngh.”
Exclamations that wouldn’t turn into proper words spilled from my mouth. Finally, he was pushing in, a little frantic. Thanks to the earlier penetration, he could sink his shaft to the hilt in about three pushes.
“Haa... hngh—hhn. Hh....”
Before I could even steady the ragged breath the full, taut pressure of his penis forced out of me, he started to move his hips. The moans that seemed to be ebbing shifted at once into a rough, shaking rhythm that screamed hard sex.
Now he rolled his tongue outside his lips and touched my nipple, framing his face and the glossy, spit-slick, reddened spread of my areola together on the screen.
“Seo Ihyeooon...”
His eyes, looking up from my chest, were foggy. He pounded up into me, thudding my insides, then climbed higher and kissed me so our lips smacked sweetly when they parted.
“See? Pretty. I was right, wasn’t I?”
As if to confirm his words, he turned my chin so I faced the screen.
“Hht—mm, ngh....”
The sight of me being shaken hard by those faster thrusts was far filthier than the shot of me sucking his tongue earlier. The only thing framed was my face—bobbing and moaning. He didn’t even show the join where his penis must have been squelching as fluid leaked around it. And yet it screamed sex.
Watching the screen, I was far more sexually disassembled than I’d ever imagined—enough to think sex had only been possible thus far because I couldn’t see myself. I’d thought of myself as a little... cleaner, hesitating before pleasure, when I had sex with him—but that was a delusion.
Belatedly I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to hide the signs of sex overflowing across my face, but I still couldn’t look away from the screen.
“Even when I’m inside you right now... looking at you on the screen makes me want you.”
His excited breaths, driving through me fast, drowned the rain and filled my ears.
“Even now, Seo Ihyeon... not sexy?”
Between every phrase, he snapped his hips up, breaking the sentence into beats, and asked. The screen versions of us overlapped and shook. Whether it was because I was sexy, as he said, or the extraordinary stimulus of watching my own sex scene from the outside on the screen, I had to admit it now.
Unbelievably, I was getting turned on by myself.
“Hh—hhhn. Hh... hmp.”
Watching him grind our locked lower bodies together, slick and unbroken, I pulled my hand from my mouth. I hesitated; my lips worked.
“Am I... always like this?”
