They Call Me Baby
Title: They Call Me Baby
Author: jinkibumiminho
Rating: R
Genre: smut
Word Count: 5000
Summary: When management is concerned about restless boys becoming involved in scandals, their solution leaves everyone satisfied.
Disclaimer: I know it’s hard to believe, but this is a work of fiction. No defamation of character is implied or intended.
Copyright: This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivatives 4.0 International License. Originally posted to sonyeoncheonji
Author’s note: This is complete trash. I can’t believe I wrote this clichéd self-insert crap. My only defense is that I was attacked by the same bored, sexually frustrated plot bunny that caught me after SM Town in L.A. That, and EXO has looked damn fine and grown lately. No, wait. I take it all back. I didn’t write this. It mysteriously appeared on my computer. Yeah, that’s it.
*****
I am dying to share this with someone, and since you and I are so close, I know I can trust you. You promise not to tell, right? Things would not go well for me if word got out. “Sleeping with the fishes” comes to mind…damn confidentiality agreement…but…I just can’t keep this to myself any longer.
You know those sharp hip thrusts and sexy body rolls in EXO’s “Call Me Baby” choreography? I’d like to think I did my part to increase certain members’ confidence levels into the “I’m sexy and I know it” realm, and for that, we can all thank SHINee’s manager Gyeongshik. Why? I’ll tell you. It’s a bit convoluted, so bear with me.
When I was in high school over a decade ago in the States, my neighbors hosted an exchange student from South Korea. Gyeongshik was tall and “mysterious” to my naïve eyes, and we fell for each other on our walks to and from school. We were each other’s first loves.
When Gyeongshik moved to Seoul, it broke my heart, but we promised to stay in touch. He followed my modest career as a backup singer and dancer, and I encouraged him through his army service, writing often and sharing news from his old school friends in California. When he became SHINee’s manager, I became a fan. Gyeongshik and I continued to be good friends, in spite of the distance. We told each other everything.
In the summer of 2010, Lee Jinki was having the busiest summer of his life, promoting “Lucifer,” appearing on variety programs, and preparing for a second musical. Although he seemed happy in his career, his bandmates went to Gyeongshik and told him that Jinki could be heard muttering “I gotta get a girlfriend” at all hours. Despite endless opportunities to connect with women, Jinki was too insecure to make the first move.
This is where I come in. After the SM Town concert in Los Angeles, Gyeongshik sent Jinki to see me. He knew he could trust me to be discreet and take care of Jinki. We had a magical day together, picnicking on the beach, salsa dancing…and other things (this is a whole ‘nother story I’ll tell you about some time). We saw each other again in 2012 when he returned for a concert in Los Angeles. Jinki had matured in every way. He thanked me for helping bring him out of his shell.
In 2014, Gyeongshik flew me to Seoul, telling me he had a proposition for me. EXO was in trouble. Several of the Chinese members were unhappy, and even more team members were plagued with injuries. One member had been caught dating, creating a rift in the fan base. Several of the members were restless, bristling against the restrictive environment imposed upon them as their popularity increased. The team had become the management company’s main money maker; the boss was terrified that further scandals would ruin his investment.
Gyeongshik had shared my experience helping Jinki with other management staff. To keep the EXO boys in line, Gyeongshik proposed that I make myself available to them in whatever way they needed that would keep them out of trouble and away from scandals. He vouched for my discretion (oops), and apparently Jinki had related that his time with me had been “productive.”
After I turned 30, I was getting less and less work in the entertainment industry back in Los Angeles, so I figured there were much worse jobs I could take than “entertaining” a stable of handsome young guys.
Come on, be honest. What would you have done in my shoes?
Gyeongshik set me up in an apartment a few blocks from the EXO dorm. The building’s security staff were all on the management company’s payroll, so the boys could come and go without being hassled. I had a thorough medical exam (and was assured that the boys were all screened on a regular basis), signed a stack of confidentiality agreements (shhhh), and received a bank account pass book with so many zeroes it made my head spin.
I’m on-call 24/7. The boys keep odd hours. I don’t mind. Sometimes weeks go by without a single text message asking to meet, sometimes I have to put someone off for a few hours because I’m already “occupied.” On my free days, I have plenty of time to pamper myself and enjoy the big city. I’ve made friends in the neighborhood. I told them I’m an exchange student, which is sort of true - I’m learning a lot.
So... here we go. The big moment. What you’ve been waiting for. I’m going to tell you what the boys are like when we’re together. Please…keep this between you and me. I’d feel terrible if anyone else found out (you know, that sinking feeling…of being drowned in the Han River).
*****
Minseok is a lot of fun.
When he wants to see me, he texts me playful question mark emojis. I answer back with a heart and a time to meet. He’s always five minutes early, which is great, because the anticipation kills me.
Minseok is all smiles when walks in my flat. He usually brings a bottle of wine. We drink and eat snacks and talk for a while - he needs a drink or two before he can relax and get chatty. He lays on the charm really thick. You’ve seen the facial expressions he makes-rawr.
Once he’s a little buzzed, he likes to talk dirty and tell me what he wants us to do, which usually starts with a trip to the shower for some soapy, slippery fun. It’s a good thing my shower stall has a safety grab bar or one of us would have suffered a concussion by now.
Minseok likes oral, both giving and getting. Any time I spend between his luscious thighs is time well-spent because he likes to reward me in kind for job well-done. He genuinely seems to love my body, nibbling, sucking, and kissing just about every square inch. Sometimes this tickles and makes me giggle, but sometimes he’s more serious and I just want him to eat me alive before he pins me down and plows me into the mattress. His stamina is impressive.
We’re drenched in sweat when we’re done, so he likes to shower together again. After we’re dressed, he flirts for a while before kissing my cheek and sending me a wave and a heart as a walks out my door. I know he’ll be back soon.
Kyungsoo is all business.
When I open the door, he enters, bows politely, and heads straight for the bathroom. I hear him shower quickly and brush his teeth. He emerges naked and ready, his eyes dark, and, frankly, somewhat frightening. But I know what to expect. I’m more excited than anxious.
He likes to undress me, but doesn’t care for anything too complicated. I usually choose a silky robe that he can simply untie and peel away before he backs me against the bed.
Kyungsoo makes love like he’s ticking off moves on a checklist. Nibble the ear? Check. Fondle the nipples? Check. Got her good and wet? Check.
He enters me slowly and deliberately in a gradual, steady thrust. Withdraw, thrust, repeat. He likes to go slow and watch me writhe as he hits my g-spot over and over. Withdraw, thrust, repeat. He picks up the pace when I beg him for more, my hands digging into his round bottom. Even as he climaxes, he’s quiet and in control.
When we’re finished, I quickly shower. He’s waiting for his turn the moment I leave the bathroom. I hear him repeat his earlier ablutions while I dress.
Now comes my favorite part. After I walk him to the door, he turns to me and takes my face gently in his hands. Kyungsoo presses his beautiful lips to mine so sweetly, so tenderly, that I feel breathless and my knees go weak. His lips barely graze mine back and forth, teasing me. He nips a bit at my lower lip before deepening the kiss for just a moment. It’s never enough. Before I’m satisfied, he breaks away, a teasing smirk on his face.
“Thank you, noona. I’ll miss you,” are the only words he ever speaks.
Junmyeon makes my heart break every time I see him.
He is such a gentle sweetheart. He is so strong in public, but with me, he lets his guard down, and I feel so honored that he trusts me (and yes, I feel like a turd telling you this).
I can’t help but take care of Junmyeon. As soon as he walks through the door, I give him a big hug. We stand in the entryway, swaying together, until I feel him relax in my arms. Then I take him into the shower and give him a scrub down in the warm water. We spend a lot of time kissing while we’re in there. It’s relaxing and comforting.
I like to give Junmyeon a massage after we dry off. Sometimes he tells me his troubles, sometimes he’s quiet. Sometimes he falls asleep, sometimes he cries. My favorite days are when he tells me corny jokes and we laugh together. He is such a cute nerd.
We don’t always make love, but when we do, it’s nothing wild. I had expected him to be more domineering, but he’s not like that at all. He’s slow and gentle, taking his time to enjoy every sensation together. We’re almost the same height, and his strong, lean body fits so well against my curves. I love running my fingers across his smooth skin and tracing the contours of his finely muscled torso.
Junmyeon really likes kissing, which is fine by me, because he is a really good kisser. Even if we don’t have sex, he still likes to cuddle and make out. Sometimes his kisses are sweet, and sometimes I feel like he’s going to devour me. It’s all wonderful.
When he gets ready to leave me, I can sense his reluctance. He’d like to stay and relax, maybe spend the night holding each other, but his sense of duty won’t let him. There’s always someone who needs him, someone to look after, some schedule to follow. We say goodbye the same way we say hello, with a long hug.
“I’m always here for you, baby,” I whisper.
“I’m not a baby,” he pretends to pout.
“You’re my baby,” I tease with a quick kiss.
“No way, you’re my baby girl,” he kisses me back passionately, as if to show me who’s boss. And with that, he’s out the door.
Baekhyun visited me just once.
We had a nice chat over drinks. I offered him a shoulder massage, which he accepted and seemed to enjoy. Then he said he needed to get to dance practice, and that was that.
Chanyeol is a multi-talented goof ball.
He is exactly what you’d expect from his public persona. He visits me as often as he can, and usually brings his guitar and his laptop with him. He likes to share what he’s been working on. Listening to him sing and play is a pretty powerful aphrodisiac, not that I need it.
After he woos me with his music, he sets aside his guitar and gives me this look that says, “I know, I’m pretty damn cool. You know you want this.” Dammit, I sure do.
He likes me to come to him. I straddle his lap and return his smug smirk. It’s a contest to see who will cave in first. I give him a little grind of my hips, and that’s that. I win. He scoops me up in his long arms and tosses me playfully onto the bed. We giggle and tussle as we rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as possible.
Chanyeol is an animal in bed. He is all over me, squeezing and nibbling and grinding and growling. We tumble around in different positions, playfully tickling and smacking each other all the while. Then things get serious.
Everything about him is long. He lays me down on my back and hits me so deep it makes me moan. He’s loud, too, his deep voice grunting with effort and pleasure. We often go for a second round, this time with me on my knees. We’re so brazen and noisy, I’m grateful the apartment has been sound-proofed.
When we finally collapse in a sweaty, sticky heap, Chanyeol turns into a snuggle bunny. He likes to be the big spoon. He sings softly in my ear, long calloused fingers gently stroking my arm, lulling me to sleep. When I awake, he’s gone. The only evidence he was ever there is my need to shower, and the dorky selca he always leaves in my phone.
Jongdae has come a long way since we first met.
He was wide-eyed and nervous the first time he came to visit. As a joke, he brought a bottle of “Joeun Day” soju, explaining that if you said it in a funny way, it sounded like his name. I laughed and poured him a drink. He was all smiles, but his hand shook a little when he poured for me. He likes to talk, so we chatted and joked around while I tried to make him feel comfortable.
I took the lead our first time. He was giddy and giggly and grateful as rode him. Afterward, when he came to his senses, it was as if he were a new man. I started to get out of bed to get us something to drink, but he stopped me and went to the kitchen himself. He poured me a glass of water and waited attentively while I sipped it.
“Noona, are you okay?” he asked earnestly.
“I feel great,” I answered, smiling. “That was a lot of fun.”
He looked down bashfully and smiled, a little proud of himself.
Jongdae was still a little shy the next few times he visited, but now he walks through my door like a man who knows exactly what he wants. He usually brings me a small bouquet, just to see me smile. He knows the effect his eyebrows have on me and takes great pride in seducing me while I pretend to be unaffected, but I can’t resist his devastating bedroom eyes.
He uses his compact body so well as we tangle ourselves together, nibbling and squeezing each other all over. He’s become a lot stronger recently and proves it by pinning me down. Jongdae likes me desperate, so he doesn’t enter me right away. He kisses me deeply with his beautiful mouth, and watches me stare longingly at his lips when he pulls away. He gyrates a bit, rubbing me where it counts, staring into my eyes and waiting for me to beg. I whine and move my hips against him until I can’t take it any longer.
“Please, I need you,” I whimper.
He smirks and kisses me again and finally thrusts into me. He lets my hands free so I can grab his perfectly squeezable butt. Jongdae makes the most musical, throaty sounds as his pleasure reaches its peak.
He’s thoughtful, immediately offering me tissue to clean up and asking if I’d rather cuddle or shower after we’re done. Most of the time I curl up against his side, my head on his chest, and run my fingers across his skin. He’s got great stamina, so we usually go again, but not until we’ve enjoyed some more kissing. His lips are a work of art, and he knows how to use them.
Jongdae usually stays the night. He likes me to wash his back in the morning. I massage him as I scrub, and if I’m lucky, I have to put the safety grab bar to use. I feed him a big breakfast to replenish his strength before he leaves.
I get one last kiss from his heavenly lips. “Goodbye, beautiful,” he says, winking, and then he’s gone.
Hwang Zitao texted me once. “I’d like to meet you, noona, but I’m very busy right now.”
Harrumph.
Sehun has changed the most since we met.
I would not have gone near his jailbait ass when he debuted, but he’s grown so much in the almost two years I’ve known him, and not just in centimeters. His confidence has gone through the roof lately.
But when we first met, Sehun was a shy, awkward kid. Junmyeon literally shoved him across my doorstep, slamming the door behind him and holding it shut so he couldn’t escape. The first few times we met we just talked and ate. I felt like I was trying to tame a wild bird; afraid he would fly away if I made the wrong move. I eventually used the time-tested back massage method of getting him to take his shirt off. From there on out he was putty in my hands. Such wonderful, long, lean putty.
He’s still really shy about initiating contact. It’s amazing how someone who is so confident on stage can be such a mouse when it’s just us two. I usually start off on top so that he can relax without the pressure of taking the lead. It doesn’t take too long before he loses himself in the pleasure and flips me onto my back. It doesn’t last long, and he always berates himself for that. His youth lets him recover quickly, and soon enough he’s ready for more.
He’s like Jekyll and Hyde. I think it just takes him a long time to warm up and let his inhibitions go. The second time around, he’s a Casanova, whispering in my ear and kissing me up and down my body. This time he’s slower, and I get to enjoy the feel of his long torso moving above me. I make sure to pay attention to his magnificent bouncy butt, too.
He’s ravenous when we’re done, so after a quick shower, I make him a pot of ramen while he cleans up. He inhales his snack quickly as boys his age do.
Sehun gets a little bashful when it’s time to go, like he’s never sure what to say. I get right up in his space and press against him and whisper “Who’s my grown up man?”
He snorts and giggles, “Oh Sehun.”
“That’s right, sweetie, and don’t you forget it.”
He circles an arm around me and kisses me quick. “See you later, noona.”
I never met the two who left the group first. Such a pity.
Yixing didn’t need my help; he was born confident.
The first time we met, he bowed formally, and then turned on the charm, even though we were both speaking a foreign language. He made the first move, staring seductively into my eyes and taking my hand. “Ppoppo?” he asked, smirking just enough to show his dimple.
I pecked one cheek, and then then other. He giggled and pulled me close. “Do you like me, noona?”
“Yes, I like you a lot,” I whispered, breathing into his ear.
“The bed…can we…” I could tell he was searching for a euphemism suitable for “delicate” ears.
I responded by unbuttoning his shirt.
Yixing is a beast, but he’s also considerate. As if my moaning and exhortations of “faster, harder,” weren’t enough, he constantly asks if I’m okay, if it feels good.
Does it feel good? Are you kidding? Have you seen this kid move? He’s like a sex machine, his flexible back letting his hips do what we both want them to do. He’s all about technique, getting the angle just right for both of us. Yixing is in such good condition he can go all night if he wants to. He leaves me sated and exhausted.
“See you later, baby,” he calls out in English when he leaves. He thinks he’s Mr. Cool.
I don’t get to see Yixing as often as I would like. Damn his busy schedule.
Jongin was the last of the members to visit me, which in retrospect, was lucky timing. If he’d been my first, I just might have run home to L.A.
He was so anxious, he made Kyungsoo come with him. Jongin fidgeted nervously in his seat, not knowing what to expect in spite of Kyungsoo’s many previous reassurances.
“This is a safe place for you to feel comfortable,” I told him. “You can do anything you want. You can watch a movie, take a nap, or have a snack. The chicken delivery place around the corner is the best in the neighborhood.”
As expected, he perked right up at the mention of chicken. Kyungsoo snorted and rolled his eyes…but he didn’t leave until we’d demolished six helpings of chicken.
I tried to keep Jongin in his comfort zone, so I suggested he show me some choreography he was working on. That put a smile on his face. He hooked up his phone to my sound system, stretched a bit, and then gave me a preview of a solo he was choreographing. What a pal.
“I dance, too,” I mentioned.
“Show me,” he ordered with a smile, sweat glistening on his upper lip.
I cued up my music and showed him a hip hop number I’d worked on in L.A., carefully modifying the moves so that my dress didn’t fly up too much - just enough.
“You’re really good,” he praised me kindly.
“Not as good as you,” I replied. Too true. “Will you teach me some moves?”
His lovely grin doubled in size. He switched up the music. I recognized the group’s latest hit. “Try this,” he said, and then demonstrated the main point of the choreography, half-time.
Of course I already knew the steps, but I played dumb so he could take the lead. I pretended to catch on after a while, and he generously praised my progress. I beamed, then switched up the playlist.
“Have you ever danced to this kind of music?” I asked, playing some mid-tempo Latin jazz and moving my hips in a modified cha-cha.
“We learned something like this in school once,” he commented. “Is it salsa?”
“Oh good, you know it,” I chirped, and pulled him in, placing his hands on my waist. He was startled, but too good-mannered to pull away.
“Just mirror me for a while,” I suggested. He followed my lead; I gradually closed the distance between us until our bodies were touching, legs slotted together, pelvis to pelvis. “This is nice,” I said.
Jongin just nodded.
The song ended, and I could see the anxiety creeping back onto his face. I took a step back.
“Would you like something to drink?” I offered.
“Water, please.”
“Coming right up.”
We sat on the floor and rehydrated and enjoyed the music.
“Will you let me do something for you?” I said. “I promise you’ll like it.”
He looked apprehensive, but I was already up. I dashed into the bathroom and returned with a foot soaking tub.
“Let me massage your feet,” I commanded gently.
Relief washed over Jongin’s face. I took his bony, calloused foot in my lap and rubbed away the tension. After I took care of both feet, I filled the tub with hot water and Epson salts. I had him sit at the kitchen table to soak while I massaged his shoulders.
A quarter of an hour passed, the quiet jazz the only sound in the room.
“Noona?” he finally spoke.
“Yes?”
“I like you,” he said quietly.
“I like you, too;” I answered cheerfully, keeping the mood light, “let me dry your feet.” I grabbed a towel, kneeled beside him, and dried him off. Before I could stand up, he’d taken my head in his hands and was staring at me, scanning my face. It seemed he was gathering his courage.
“Noona,” he barely breathed the word, “I’m a naughty boy,” he added, his breath coming faster and faster.
This caught me completely off guard. Where was the shy kid from earlier? What did he want? I had to think fast.
“How naughty are you?” I whispered, my eyes wide.
“I watch dirty movies all the time,” he whispered back.
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to role play, or if he was genuinely confessing his supposed sins.
“I want to do the things I see in the movies,” he added breathlessly.
Ah. That’s what he meant.
“Okay…let’s talk about what you want to do,” I suggested. I was up for a certain amount of rough stuff, but not without some honest conversation and planning.
He was still shy, but managed to express his fascination with vibrators and light bondage. It just so happened that I had most of the necessary equipment in my bedside table. I showed him what I had, and he chose a pair of fuzzy hand ties and my favorite plug-in vibrator. Just in case, we agreed on a safe word (“dubu” - I just couldn’t help myself) and I let him take control.
Jongin loosely tied my wrists to the headboard, more for psychological value than anything else. I could have easily slipped free if I had wanted…but I didn’t. He slid my dress up my thighs, and then peeled my panties away. He looked so hungry and eager. He fumbled a bit with the vibrator, but figured out the controls quickly enough.
I moaned when he touched me with the magical device. He grinned proudly and concentrated on making me writhe. I pretended to struggle against the restraints.
I didn’t last two minutes. I had wanted to put on a show for him, but I was so turned on, and his face was so beautiful and intense, I couldn’t hold my climax at bay.
I had barely regained my senses when I noticed he had taken himself in hand.
“What do you want to do now?” I invited.
He was stroking himself, panting, looking for the right words. “I want to…can I…in your mouth…” he stuttered.
Wow. That was fast. The kid could barely look me in the eye two hours ago.
“Okay,” I agreed. It was only fair after the thoughtful service he’d just performed for me.
I expected to rearrange ourselves, to switch places, but he straddled me and walked on his knees up the bed until we were face-to-groin.
I suppose I had set a good example earlier, because he didn’t last two minutes, either.
He flopped down beside me and pushed the hair off his damp forehead, breathing heavily. After catching his breath, he suddenly sat up.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry,” he gushed as he rushed to untie me.
“What for?” I snorted. “That was fun.”
He looked at me, shocked, then relieved, and let out a smug snort of his own as he collected the ties and carefully returned them to the drawer before passing me my glass of water.
I wasn’t done with him just yet. We were both still dressed (mostly). I encouraged him to correct this unfortunate oversight, which he gladly did. It was like inviting a kid into a candy store.
Jongin was definitely one of my virgins (there were five, if you must know - and I know you must). He was in a rush to bring his virtual knowledge from his naughty movies into the real world. He asked permission to touch me, which was so sweet and respectful considering what we’d just done. He mapped out my body with his hands and his mouth while I gave him gentle suggestions about how to treat a real woman in his arms versus a fantasy woman in a movie. He was a quick learner…and apparently a boob man.
When I noticed that he had revived and was ready to go again, I asked if he wanted to try something conventional. He looked a bit confused until I pulled him in for a soft kiss. He kissed me back once, then twice, and then melted into me.
I cannot do Kim Jongin’s mouth justice with words. Perhaps a symphony or interpretive dance…with lots of hip thrusts. And rose petals.
As much as I would have loved to have spent the rest of my life in a lip lock, I could feel his desperation growing. I took him in hand and quickly breathed “Do you want to?” against his ear.
“Yes,” he groaned into my neck.
I guided him into me and wrapped my legs around him. I thought he would be one of my quiet ones like Kyungsoo, but Jongin rivals Chanyeol in his vocal expression of his enjoyment. He moaned softly with each slow thrust, appreciating the new sensation. Lordy he was beautiful that first time, his face registering pleasure and surprise, alternating between a blissed-out smile and intense concentration as he moved back and forth in me.
Jongin makes love like he’s choreographing a dance, experimenting with different hip swirls and positions, searching for the best combination of sensation and fluid physical mechanics. We’ve folded ourselves and each other into countless angles and shapes. My favorite positions are the ones where I can see his face. The sight of his expression morphing through all the stages of his pleasure is something I will forever treasure.
And that’s all I’m going to say about Jongin. I’m not going to mention the mysterious packages delivered to my doorstep, always with a new toy inside to try out the next time he visits me, and I’m certainly not about to describe what happened that time he invited Kyungsoo to join us.
*****
You promised not to tell a soul, right? I think you understand now why I think I should get a bit of credit for the confidence behind those smooth body rolls and naughty hip thrusts.
But seriously, keep all this just between us, please? I’m afraid of that “breach of contract” clause in the confidentiality agreement. Now if you’ll excuse me, I hear the doorbell. Probably another package from Jongin.
Author: jinkibumiminho
Rating: R
Genre: smut
Word Count: 5000
Summary: When management is concerned about restless boys becoming involved in scandals, their solution leaves everyone satisfied.
Disclaimer: I know it’s hard to believe, but this is a work of fiction. No defamation of character is implied or intended.
Copyright: This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivatives 4.0 International License. Originally posted to sonyeoncheonji
Author’s note: This is complete trash. I can’t believe I wrote this clichéd self-insert crap. My only defense is that I was attacked by the same bored, sexually frustrated plot bunny that caught me after SM Town in L.A. That, and EXO has looked damn fine and grown lately. No, wait. I take it all back. I didn’t write this. It mysteriously appeared on my computer. Yeah, that’s it.
*****
I am dying to share this with someone, and since you and I are so close, I know I can trust you. You promise not to tell, right? Things would not go well for me if word got out. “Sleeping with the fishes” comes to mind…damn confidentiality agreement…but…I just can’t keep this to myself any longer.
You know those sharp hip thrusts and sexy body rolls in EXO’s “Call Me Baby” choreography? I’d like to think I did my part to increase certain members’ confidence levels into the “I’m sexy and I know it” realm, and for that, we can all thank SHINee’s manager Gyeongshik. Why? I’ll tell you. It’s a bit convoluted, so bear with me.
When I was in high school over a decade ago in the States, my neighbors hosted an exchange student from South Korea. Gyeongshik was tall and “mysterious” to my naïve eyes, and we fell for each other on our walks to and from school. We were each other’s first loves.
When Gyeongshik moved to Seoul, it broke my heart, but we promised to stay in touch. He followed my modest career as a backup singer and dancer, and I encouraged him through his army service, writing often and sharing news from his old school friends in California. When he became SHINee’s manager, I became a fan. Gyeongshik and I continued to be good friends, in spite of the distance. We told each other everything.
In the summer of 2010, Lee Jinki was having the busiest summer of his life, promoting “Lucifer,” appearing on variety programs, and preparing for a second musical. Although he seemed happy in his career, his bandmates went to Gyeongshik and told him that Jinki could be heard muttering “I gotta get a girlfriend” at all hours. Despite endless opportunities to connect with women, Jinki was too insecure to make the first move.
This is where I come in. After the SM Town concert in Los Angeles, Gyeongshik sent Jinki to see me. He knew he could trust me to be discreet and take care of Jinki. We had a magical day together, picnicking on the beach, salsa dancing…and other things (this is a whole ‘nother story I’ll tell you about some time). We saw each other again in 2012 when he returned for a concert in Los Angeles. Jinki had matured in every way. He thanked me for helping bring him out of his shell.
In 2014, Gyeongshik flew me to Seoul, telling me he had a proposition for me. EXO was in trouble. Several of the Chinese members were unhappy, and even more team members were plagued with injuries. One member had been caught dating, creating a rift in the fan base. Several of the members were restless, bristling against the restrictive environment imposed upon them as their popularity increased. The team had become the management company’s main money maker; the boss was terrified that further scandals would ruin his investment.
Gyeongshik had shared my experience helping Jinki with other management staff. To keep the EXO boys in line, Gyeongshik proposed that I make myself available to them in whatever way they needed that would keep them out of trouble and away from scandals. He vouched for my discretion (oops), and apparently Jinki had related that his time with me had been “productive.”
After I turned 30, I was getting less and less work in the entertainment industry back in Los Angeles, so I figured there were much worse jobs I could take than “entertaining” a stable of handsome young guys.
Come on, be honest. What would you have done in my shoes?
Gyeongshik set me up in an apartment a few blocks from the EXO dorm. The building’s security staff were all on the management company’s payroll, so the boys could come and go without being hassled. I had a thorough medical exam (and was assured that the boys were all screened on a regular basis), signed a stack of confidentiality agreements (shhhh), and received a bank account pass book with so many zeroes it made my head spin.
I’m on-call 24/7. The boys keep odd hours. I don’t mind. Sometimes weeks go by without a single text message asking to meet, sometimes I have to put someone off for a few hours because I’m already “occupied.” On my free days, I have plenty of time to pamper myself and enjoy the big city. I’ve made friends in the neighborhood. I told them I’m an exchange student, which is sort of true - I’m learning a lot.
So... here we go. The big moment. What you’ve been waiting for. I’m going to tell you what the boys are like when we’re together. Please…keep this between you and me. I’d feel terrible if anyone else found out (you know, that sinking feeling…of being drowned in the Han River).
*****
Minseok is a lot of fun.
When he wants to see me, he texts me playful question mark emojis. I answer back with a heart and a time to meet. He’s always five minutes early, which is great, because the anticipation kills me.
Minseok is all smiles when walks in my flat. He usually brings a bottle of wine. We drink and eat snacks and talk for a while - he needs a drink or two before he can relax and get chatty. He lays on the charm really thick. You’ve seen the facial expressions he makes-rawr.
Once he’s a little buzzed, he likes to talk dirty and tell me what he wants us to do, which usually starts with a trip to the shower for some soapy, slippery fun. It’s a good thing my shower stall has a safety grab bar or one of us would have suffered a concussion by now.
Minseok likes oral, both giving and getting. Any time I spend between his luscious thighs is time well-spent because he likes to reward me in kind for job well-done. He genuinely seems to love my body, nibbling, sucking, and kissing just about every square inch. Sometimes this tickles and makes me giggle, but sometimes he’s more serious and I just want him to eat me alive before he pins me down and plows me into the mattress. His stamina is impressive.
We’re drenched in sweat when we’re done, so he likes to shower together again. After we’re dressed, he flirts for a while before kissing my cheek and sending me a wave and a heart as a walks out my door. I know he’ll be back soon.
Kyungsoo is all business.
When I open the door, he enters, bows politely, and heads straight for the bathroom. I hear him shower quickly and brush his teeth. He emerges naked and ready, his eyes dark, and, frankly, somewhat frightening. But I know what to expect. I’m more excited than anxious.
He likes to undress me, but doesn’t care for anything too complicated. I usually choose a silky robe that he can simply untie and peel away before he backs me against the bed.
Kyungsoo makes love like he’s ticking off moves on a checklist. Nibble the ear? Check. Fondle the nipples? Check. Got her good and wet? Check.
He enters me slowly and deliberately in a gradual, steady thrust. Withdraw, thrust, repeat. He likes to go slow and watch me writhe as he hits my g-spot over and over. Withdraw, thrust, repeat. He picks up the pace when I beg him for more, my hands digging into his round bottom. Even as he climaxes, he’s quiet and in control.
When we’re finished, I quickly shower. He’s waiting for his turn the moment I leave the bathroom. I hear him repeat his earlier ablutions while I dress.
Now comes my favorite part. After I walk him to the door, he turns to me and takes my face gently in his hands. Kyungsoo presses his beautiful lips to mine so sweetly, so tenderly, that I feel breathless and my knees go weak. His lips barely graze mine back and forth, teasing me. He nips a bit at my lower lip before deepening the kiss for just a moment. It’s never enough. Before I’m satisfied, he breaks away, a teasing smirk on his face.
“Thank you, noona. I’ll miss you,” are the only words he ever speaks.
Junmyeon makes my heart break every time I see him.
He is such a gentle sweetheart. He is so strong in public, but with me, he lets his guard down, and I feel so honored that he trusts me (and yes, I feel like a turd telling you this).
I can’t help but take care of Junmyeon. As soon as he walks through the door, I give him a big hug. We stand in the entryway, swaying together, until I feel him relax in my arms. Then I take him into the shower and give him a scrub down in the warm water. We spend a lot of time kissing while we’re in there. It’s relaxing and comforting.
I like to give Junmyeon a massage after we dry off. Sometimes he tells me his troubles, sometimes he’s quiet. Sometimes he falls asleep, sometimes he cries. My favorite days are when he tells me corny jokes and we laugh together. He is such a cute nerd.
We don’t always make love, but when we do, it’s nothing wild. I had expected him to be more domineering, but he’s not like that at all. He’s slow and gentle, taking his time to enjoy every sensation together. We’re almost the same height, and his strong, lean body fits so well against my curves. I love running my fingers across his smooth skin and tracing the contours of his finely muscled torso.
Junmyeon really likes kissing, which is fine by me, because he is a really good kisser. Even if we don’t have sex, he still likes to cuddle and make out. Sometimes his kisses are sweet, and sometimes I feel like he’s going to devour me. It’s all wonderful.
When he gets ready to leave me, I can sense his reluctance. He’d like to stay and relax, maybe spend the night holding each other, but his sense of duty won’t let him. There’s always someone who needs him, someone to look after, some schedule to follow. We say goodbye the same way we say hello, with a long hug.
“I’m always here for you, baby,” I whisper.
“I’m not a baby,” he pretends to pout.
“You’re my baby,” I tease with a quick kiss.
“No way, you’re my baby girl,” he kisses me back passionately, as if to show me who’s boss. And with that, he’s out the door.
Baekhyun visited me just once.
We had a nice chat over drinks. I offered him a shoulder massage, which he accepted and seemed to enjoy. Then he said he needed to get to dance practice, and that was that.
Chanyeol is a multi-talented goof ball.
He is exactly what you’d expect from his public persona. He visits me as often as he can, and usually brings his guitar and his laptop with him. He likes to share what he’s been working on. Listening to him sing and play is a pretty powerful aphrodisiac, not that I need it.
After he woos me with his music, he sets aside his guitar and gives me this look that says, “I know, I’m pretty damn cool. You know you want this.” Dammit, I sure do.
He likes me to come to him. I straddle his lap and return his smug smirk. It’s a contest to see who will cave in first. I give him a little grind of my hips, and that’s that. I win. He scoops me up in his long arms and tosses me playfully onto the bed. We giggle and tussle as we rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as possible.
Chanyeol is an animal in bed. He is all over me, squeezing and nibbling and grinding and growling. We tumble around in different positions, playfully tickling and smacking each other all the while. Then things get serious.
Everything about him is long. He lays me down on my back and hits me so deep it makes me moan. He’s loud, too, his deep voice grunting with effort and pleasure. We often go for a second round, this time with me on my knees. We’re so brazen and noisy, I’m grateful the apartment has been sound-proofed.
When we finally collapse in a sweaty, sticky heap, Chanyeol turns into a snuggle bunny. He likes to be the big spoon. He sings softly in my ear, long calloused fingers gently stroking my arm, lulling me to sleep. When I awake, he’s gone. The only evidence he was ever there is my need to shower, and the dorky selca he always leaves in my phone.
Jongdae has come a long way since we first met.
He was wide-eyed and nervous the first time he came to visit. As a joke, he brought a bottle of “Joeun Day” soju, explaining that if you said it in a funny way, it sounded like his name. I laughed and poured him a drink. He was all smiles, but his hand shook a little when he poured for me. He likes to talk, so we chatted and joked around while I tried to make him feel comfortable.
I took the lead our first time. He was giddy and giggly and grateful as rode him. Afterward, when he came to his senses, it was as if he were a new man. I started to get out of bed to get us something to drink, but he stopped me and went to the kitchen himself. He poured me a glass of water and waited attentively while I sipped it.
“Noona, are you okay?” he asked earnestly.
“I feel great,” I answered, smiling. “That was a lot of fun.”
He looked down bashfully and smiled, a little proud of himself.
Jongdae was still a little shy the next few times he visited, but now he walks through my door like a man who knows exactly what he wants. He usually brings me a small bouquet, just to see me smile. He knows the effect his eyebrows have on me and takes great pride in seducing me while I pretend to be unaffected, but I can’t resist his devastating bedroom eyes.
He uses his compact body so well as we tangle ourselves together, nibbling and squeezing each other all over. He’s become a lot stronger recently and proves it by pinning me down. Jongdae likes me desperate, so he doesn’t enter me right away. He kisses me deeply with his beautiful mouth, and watches me stare longingly at his lips when he pulls away. He gyrates a bit, rubbing me where it counts, staring into my eyes and waiting for me to beg. I whine and move my hips against him until I can’t take it any longer.
“Please, I need you,” I whimper.
He smirks and kisses me again and finally thrusts into me. He lets my hands free so I can grab his perfectly squeezable butt. Jongdae makes the most musical, throaty sounds as his pleasure reaches its peak.
He’s thoughtful, immediately offering me tissue to clean up and asking if I’d rather cuddle or shower after we’re done. Most of the time I curl up against his side, my head on his chest, and run my fingers across his skin. He’s got great stamina, so we usually go again, but not until we’ve enjoyed some more kissing. His lips are a work of art, and he knows how to use them.
Jongdae usually stays the night. He likes me to wash his back in the morning. I massage him as I scrub, and if I’m lucky, I have to put the safety grab bar to use. I feed him a big breakfast to replenish his strength before he leaves.
I get one last kiss from his heavenly lips. “Goodbye, beautiful,” he says, winking, and then he’s gone.
Hwang Zitao texted me once. “I’d like to meet you, noona, but I’m very busy right now.”
Harrumph.
Sehun has changed the most since we met.
I would not have gone near his jailbait ass when he debuted, but he’s grown so much in the almost two years I’ve known him, and not just in centimeters. His confidence has gone through the roof lately.
But when we first met, Sehun was a shy, awkward kid. Junmyeon literally shoved him across my doorstep, slamming the door behind him and holding it shut so he couldn’t escape. The first few times we met we just talked and ate. I felt like I was trying to tame a wild bird; afraid he would fly away if I made the wrong move. I eventually used the time-tested back massage method of getting him to take his shirt off. From there on out he was putty in my hands. Such wonderful, long, lean putty.
He’s still really shy about initiating contact. It’s amazing how someone who is so confident on stage can be such a mouse when it’s just us two. I usually start off on top so that he can relax without the pressure of taking the lead. It doesn’t take too long before he loses himself in the pleasure and flips me onto my back. It doesn’t last long, and he always berates himself for that. His youth lets him recover quickly, and soon enough he’s ready for more.
He’s like Jekyll and Hyde. I think it just takes him a long time to warm up and let his inhibitions go. The second time around, he’s a Casanova, whispering in my ear and kissing me up and down my body. This time he’s slower, and I get to enjoy the feel of his long torso moving above me. I make sure to pay attention to his magnificent bouncy butt, too.
He’s ravenous when we’re done, so after a quick shower, I make him a pot of ramen while he cleans up. He inhales his snack quickly as boys his age do.
Sehun gets a little bashful when it’s time to go, like he’s never sure what to say. I get right up in his space and press against him and whisper “Who’s my grown up man?”
He snorts and giggles, “Oh Sehun.”
“That’s right, sweetie, and don’t you forget it.”
He circles an arm around me and kisses me quick. “See you later, noona.”
I never met the two who left the group first. Such a pity.
Yixing didn’t need my help; he was born confident.
The first time we met, he bowed formally, and then turned on the charm, even though we were both speaking a foreign language. He made the first move, staring seductively into my eyes and taking my hand. “Ppoppo?” he asked, smirking just enough to show his dimple.
I pecked one cheek, and then then other. He giggled and pulled me close. “Do you like me, noona?”
“Yes, I like you a lot,” I whispered, breathing into his ear.
“The bed…can we…” I could tell he was searching for a euphemism suitable for “delicate” ears.
I responded by unbuttoning his shirt.
Yixing is a beast, but he’s also considerate. As if my moaning and exhortations of “faster, harder,” weren’t enough, he constantly asks if I’m okay, if it feels good.
Does it feel good? Are you kidding? Have you seen this kid move? He’s like a sex machine, his flexible back letting his hips do what we both want them to do. He’s all about technique, getting the angle just right for both of us. Yixing is in such good condition he can go all night if he wants to. He leaves me sated and exhausted.
“See you later, baby,” he calls out in English when he leaves. He thinks he’s Mr. Cool.
I don’t get to see Yixing as often as I would like. Damn his busy schedule.
Jongin was the last of the members to visit me, which in retrospect, was lucky timing. If he’d been my first, I just might have run home to L.A.
He was so anxious, he made Kyungsoo come with him. Jongin fidgeted nervously in his seat, not knowing what to expect in spite of Kyungsoo’s many previous reassurances.
“This is a safe place for you to feel comfortable,” I told him. “You can do anything you want. You can watch a movie, take a nap, or have a snack. The chicken delivery place around the corner is the best in the neighborhood.”
As expected, he perked right up at the mention of chicken. Kyungsoo snorted and rolled his eyes…but he didn’t leave until we’d demolished six helpings of chicken.
I tried to keep Jongin in his comfort zone, so I suggested he show me some choreography he was working on. That put a smile on his face. He hooked up his phone to my sound system, stretched a bit, and then gave me a preview of a solo he was choreographing. What a pal.
“I dance, too,” I mentioned.
“Show me,” he ordered with a smile, sweat glistening on his upper lip.
I cued up my music and showed him a hip hop number I’d worked on in L.A., carefully modifying the moves so that my dress didn’t fly up too much - just enough.
“You’re really good,” he praised me kindly.
“Not as good as you,” I replied. Too true. “Will you teach me some moves?”
His lovely grin doubled in size. He switched up the music. I recognized the group’s latest hit. “Try this,” he said, and then demonstrated the main point of the choreography, half-time.
Of course I already knew the steps, but I played dumb so he could take the lead. I pretended to catch on after a while, and he generously praised my progress. I beamed, then switched up the playlist.
“Have you ever danced to this kind of music?” I asked, playing some mid-tempo Latin jazz and moving my hips in a modified cha-cha.
“We learned something like this in school once,” he commented. “Is it salsa?”
“Oh good, you know it,” I chirped, and pulled him in, placing his hands on my waist. He was startled, but too good-mannered to pull away.
“Just mirror me for a while,” I suggested. He followed my lead; I gradually closed the distance between us until our bodies were touching, legs slotted together, pelvis to pelvis. “This is nice,” I said.
Jongin just nodded.
The song ended, and I could see the anxiety creeping back onto his face. I took a step back.
“Would you like something to drink?” I offered.
“Water, please.”
“Coming right up.”
We sat on the floor and rehydrated and enjoyed the music.
“Will you let me do something for you?” I said. “I promise you’ll like it.”
He looked apprehensive, but I was already up. I dashed into the bathroom and returned with a foot soaking tub.
“Let me massage your feet,” I commanded gently.
Relief washed over Jongin’s face. I took his bony, calloused foot in my lap and rubbed away the tension. After I took care of both feet, I filled the tub with hot water and Epson salts. I had him sit at the kitchen table to soak while I massaged his shoulders.
A quarter of an hour passed, the quiet jazz the only sound in the room.
“Noona?” he finally spoke.
“Yes?”
“I like you,” he said quietly.
“I like you, too;” I answered cheerfully, keeping the mood light, “let me dry your feet.” I grabbed a towel, kneeled beside him, and dried him off. Before I could stand up, he’d taken my head in his hands and was staring at me, scanning my face. It seemed he was gathering his courage.
“Noona,” he barely breathed the word, “I’m a naughty boy,” he added, his breath coming faster and faster.
This caught me completely off guard. Where was the shy kid from earlier? What did he want? I had to think fast.
“How naughty are you?” I whispered, my eyes wide.
“I watch dirty movies all the time,” he whispered back.
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to role play, or if he was genuinely confessing his supposed sins.
“I want to do the things I see in the movies,” he added breathlessly.
Ah. That’s what he meant.
“Okay…let’s talk about what you want to do,” I suggested. I was up for a certain amount of rough stuff, but not without some honest conversation and planning.
He was still shy, but managed to express his fascination with vibrators and light bondage. It just so happened that I had most of the necessary equipment in my bedside table. I showed him what I had, and he chose a pair of fuzzy hand ties and my favorite plug-in vibrator. Just in case, we agreed on a safe word (“dubu” - I just couldn’t help myself) and I let him take control.
Jongin loosely tied my wrists to the headboard, more for psychological value than anything else. I could have easily slipped free if I had wanted…but I didn’t. He slid my dress up my thighs, and then peeled my panties away. He looked so hungry and eager. He fumbled a bit with the vibrator, but figured out the controls quickly enough.
I moaned when he touched me with the magical device. He grinned proudly and concentrated on making me writhe. I pretended to struggle against the restraints.
I didn’t last two minutes. I had wanted to put on a show for him, but I was so turned on, and his face was so beautiful and intense, I couldn’t hold my climax at bay.
I had barely regained my senses when I noticed he had taken himself in hand.
“What do you want to do now?” I invited.
He was stroking himself, panting, looking for the right words. “I want to…can I…in your mouth…” he stuttered.
Wow. That was fast. The kid could barely look me in the eye two hours ago.
“Okay,” I agreed. It was only fair after the thoughtful service he’d just performed for me.
I expected to rearrange ourselves, to switch places, but he straddled me and walked on his knees up the bed until we were face-to-groin.
I suppose I had set a good example earlier, because he didn’t last two minutes, either.
He flopped down beside me and pushed the hair off his damp forehead, breathing heavily. After catching his breath, he suddenly sat up.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry,” he gushed as he rushed to untie me.
“What for?” I snorted. “That was fun.”
He looked at me, shocked, then relieved, and let out a smug snort of his own as he collected the ties and carefully returned them to the drawer before passing me my glass of water.
I wasn’t done with him just yet. We were both still dressed (mostly). I encouraged him to correct this unfortunate oversight, which he gladly did. It was like inviting a kid into a candy store.
Jongin was definitely one of my virgins (there were five, if you must know - and I know you must). He was in a rush to bring his virtual knowledge from his naughty movies into the real world. He asked permission to touch me, which was so sweet and respectful considering what we’d just done. He mapped out my body with his hands and his mouth while I gave him gentle suggestions about how to treat a real woman in his arms versus a fantasy woman in a movie. He was a quick learner…and apparently a boob man.
When I noticed that he had revived and was ready to go again, I asked if he wanted to try something conventional. He looked a bit confused until I pulled him in for a soft kiss. He kissed me back once, then twice, and then melted into me.
I cannot do Kim Jongin’s mouth justice with words. Perhaps a symphony or interpretive dance…with lots of hip thrusts. And rose petals.
As much as I would have loved to have spent the rest of my life in a lip lock, I could feel his desperation growing. I took him in hand and quickly breathed “Do you want to?” against his ear.
“Yes,” he groaned into my neck.
I guided him into me and wrapped my legs around him. I thought he would be one of my quiet ones like Kyungsoo, but Jongin rivals Chanyeol in his vocal expression of his enjoyment. He moaned softly with each slow thrust, appreciating the new sensation. Lordy he was beautiful that first time, his face registering pleasure and surprise, alternating between a blissed-out smile and intense concentration as he moved back and forth in me.
Jongin makes love like he’s choreographing a dance, experimenting with different hip swirls and positions, searching for the best combination of sensation and fluid physical mechanics. We’ve folded ourselves and each other into countless angles and shapes. My favorite positions are the ones where I can see his face. The sight of his expression morphing through all the stages of his pleasure is something I will forever treasure.
And that’s all I’m going to say about Jongin. I’m not going to mention the mysterious packages delivered to my doorstep, always with a new toy inside to try out the next time he visits me, and I’m certainly not about to describe what happened that time he invited Kyungsoo to join us.
*****
You promised not to tell a soul, right? I think you understand now why I think I should get a bit of credit for the confidence behind those smooth body rolls and naughty hip thrusts.
But seriously, keep all this just between us, please? I’m afraid of that “breach of contract” clause in the confidentiality agreement. Now if you’ll excuse me, I hear the doorbell. Probably another package from Jongin.