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The thing is that Jungah loves love. A lot. She has wiled away her time on every romantic movie or romance novel imaginable; she thinks about being romanced and finding her true love, spending their days together and growing old together. She is steadfast in her belief that everyone has someone that’s just for them out there.
Jungah also knows that sex and love are not synonymous with one another. She doesn’t necessarily have a problem with sex it’s just that…
Well, wouldn’t it be so much more romantic if her first time were with her husband? With her forever?
It was a concept that had crept its way into her mind early-on, when she and her friends had only just started to be introduced to the idea of sex. And it stuck.
She’d gone through her teen years, stubborn and intent on “saving herself” for marriage, because it seemed like the romantic thing to do. Slowly, each of her friends had one by one excitedly exclaimed in their group chat about whoever they’d finally done It with, giggling and dropping stickers back and forth about details.
All of them, except for Jungah.
Jungah, now in her early 20’s, with so, so many failed dates and short-lived relationships under her belt. If she’s honest, she prefers the ones who immediately ghost her when she explains that there will be absolutely nothing below-the-belt until after they’ve said their vows. It’s much better than the ones who string her along, tell her they’re okay with it, only to be pissed off later when they find out that she wasn’t joking. She almost wonders if they all look up some kind of script online, the way they all break up with her with the same “it’s not you, it’s me” spiel, because she’s positive she could recite it from memory at this point.
But then she’d met Namjoon through a mutual friend. He’s smart, articulate and, more than anything, Jungah had thought he was incredibly cool.
It had been fairly obvious to anyone with eyes that she was harboring a massive crush on him from the first second she’d laid eyes on him. She’d never been foolish enough to think he’d like her back--he was far too cool for her, she’d reasoned--but she couldn’t help how infatuated she was with him. At the time, she hadn’t been sure if it was a blessing or a curse that he’d fit into their little group so easily--that he was always around.
Everyone had teased her about her crush for months incessantly . If anything, she’d kind of thought the jokes would stop once they’d finally gotten together but, if anything, they’d only ramped up in intensity. Namjoon always seemed to take it good naturedly, even defending Jungah when he could tell that she was mildly upset by their friends’ ribbing.
Even still, with how close they’d grown as friends before they started dating, with the handful of failed dates Jungah had been on during that time, with the fact that Namjoon knew about her preference to wait, she hadn’t really held out a lot of hope--sure that he’d get bored or think he was somehow the exception to her rule. Despite every positive that came with them knowing each other well before they’d gotten together, it also came with the negative side-effect of her having heard of Namjoon’s sexual escapades, or allusions to them at the very least.
Jungah had been absolutely upfront with him, almost aggressive with the way she’d laid it out for him. Some part of her had braced herself for the inevitable “thanks, but no thanks” that would follow the conversation.
But it never came.
Namjoon had just laughed a bit breathlessly, tucking a piece of Jungah’s hair behind her ear and said I already knew that, baby before turning his attention back to the television, still aimlessly searching through a lifted Netflix account for something to watch.
She really hadn’t thought it possible, but if anything, Namjoon’s response only served to make Jungah fall even harder for him. And so they carry on like that, weeks of a whirlwind romance with Jungah convincing herself more and more with each passing day that Namjoon might actually be the one.
The thing is, though, that while Jungah is a romantic, she is certainly not a prude; they still kiss--often enough that it leads to a number of makeout sessions. Namjoon is always respectful and level-headed enough to call it quits when things start to get too heavy, holding Jungah by the shoulders and muttering a soft Maybe you better go home, baby before he presses a soft kiss to her forehead and sitting them both back upright.
Initially, it had made her heart soar; she’d never dated anyone that had respected her wishes like that before--always trying to use the heat of the moment to their advantage, and it had always made her feel awful and disrespected. Being faced with Namjoon and his gentle acceptance of her wishes had made her fall deeper.
The longer it’s gone on though, the guiltier Jungah feels. Each time he gently nudges her off of him, she can see the tent in his joggers--the slight grimace behind his features as he sends her on her way. She’s not willing to compromise on her virginity, but still. She feels bad.
They dance around it, and she laughs a bit when she realizes that it’s almost like before they’d started dating. And, almost like when they’d started dating, Jungah eventually breaks first--can’t deal with the weird pseudo-guilt anymore--and confesses to him, muttering into her lap while some variety show drones on in front of them; she wishes there was something, anything they could do that wouldn’t leave him high and dry, but that wouldn’t compromise on her ideals.
She wants to have her cake and eat it, too.
Namjoon looks thoughtful for a few moments, idly toying with Jungah’s hair with the hand he has wrapped around her shoulders while he does.
“Well,” he hums, “There is the one thing...”
Jungah could burst with happiness--Namjoon is so smart, she should’ve known he’d have the perfect solution. She turns to face him excitedly, briefly mourning the loss of his hand in her hair as she reorients herself on his small couch.
“Intercourse is really only vaginal penetration by a penis, right?” Namjoon asks her, smoothing his hand up her thigh while he waits for her response.
And, well, Jungah’s never really thought about it.
She shrugs before asking, “What about o-oral…?”
“That’s just a sex act, not sex,” he answers confidently.
It doesn’t sound quite right, but Namjoon is so smart and Jungah trusts him, so she nods anyway. “How did you learn that, oppa?” she wonders out loud.
“Wikipedia.”
Wow, Namjoon must be even smarter than she thought if he just reads encyclopedias for fun.
“So, anyway,” he continues dragging Jungah to straddle his lap, “There’s other options is all I’m saying.”
“What does oppa think is best?” Jungah really can’t contain how excited she is when she asks. This is the best news she’s heard probably since Namjoon agreed to go on a date with her--that there are options for her out there that allow her to maintain her virginity. She really had no idea all this time.
She’s so lucky she met Namjoon.
Namjoon considers again for a moment, humming thoughtfully while Jungah watches him, wide-eyed.
“Well, there’s oral, like you mentioned,” he starts, swiping gently at Jungah’s bottom lip, thumb pressing into the mole she shares with him. “Or there’s your hands,” he sweeps his own hands down, gently cradling her slightly smaller ones in his own, rubbing at the raised lines of her knuckle tattoos, “Or…” he trails off, dropping her hands in favor or grasping her hips, fingertips digging in slightly to the top of her ass.
Jungah cocks her head to the side slightly as she waits for him to continue. He huffs out a soft laugh, smoothing his hands further back to palm at her properly.
“Or there’s anal,” Namjoon says simply, like it was the most obvious option in the world.
Jungah immediately blushes, stammering “W-we, th-that’s…”
“Hey,” he interrupts her awkward spiraling, “It’s just a suggestion; we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
Even through her embarrassment at the thought of anyone touching her there , Jungah feels her heart swell. She’s not entirely sure how it is that those things don’t count as sex, but Namjoon is so smart, he must understand it better than she does. More than that, Namjoon must have really put a lot of consideration into this to help her and still respect her wishes. He’s so thoughtful.
“If you really want what you said, that’s probably the best option, though,” Namjoon says before adding diplomatically, “Plus, you’ll be able to get some practice in before you get married. You want to be good for your future husband, don’t you?”
And, yeah, she does want that. A lot. It’s kind of her whole thing.
The longer she sits there, perched in Namjoon’s lap, his large hands smoothing up and down her ass and the backs of her thighs, the more it makes sense--the more it seems like the best possible option. She’ll still be a virgin on her wedding day, to give that part of herself to the person she’s going to spend the rest of her life with, and she’ll be able to stop feeling so bad about Namjoon’s situation.
The best of both worlds.
Jungah nods shyly, ducking her head to hide her blush. Namjoon huffs out another soft laugh, tilting her head up gently as he cradles her cheek, pulling her in to meet him in a gentle kiss. She sighs into it, his teeth tugging at her bottom lip as his hand slips back into her hair again, fingers curling in the dark strands and tugging on it ever so slightly.
This time, when things grow heated between them, Namjoon easing her to lay back on the couch, he doesn’t pull away once Jungah starts squirming a bit and tugging at his hair a bit more harshly--a sure sign that things had gone too far. Instead, he just kisses her again, licking into her mouth with a force she’d never felt from him before.
Namjoon leans over her, reaching into the small side table next to the couch, retrieving a small bottle. She almost squeaks when she realizes what it is, but manages to bite it back just in time. He must feel her tense a bit anyway, because he leans back down almost immediately, pressing a kiss to her forehead, not unlike the ones he usually gives her when he tells her to leave.
He leaves the bottle next to her side as he pulls away again, running his hands down her sides, pausing briefly to squeeze at her slight waist, pulling a sharp gasp from her. When he reaches her pants, he curls his fingers into the waistband, looking up at Jungah as he slowly tugs both her pants and underwear off.
It can’t take more than a few seconds for him to actually work her bottoms off, but to Jungah it feels like an eternity that she’s staring up at Namjoon, holding her breath. As soon as he gets everything free from her ankles, she catches him glimpse down at the apex of her thighs, and for a split second, Jungah thinks he might touch her anyway--he’s done what no one else had ever managed to do and actually gotten her out of her pants, what’s stopping him?--and she tries to squeeze her thighs shut as the nerves overtake her.
Namjoon smiles at her, reaching out to gently nudge at her hip instead, coaxing her to turn over to her front and prop herself up on her knees. She’s still tense, exposed even more now with her knees spread and back to Namjoon. She jumps a bit when he touches her low on her back, just underneath the large t-shirt still hanging from her body, guiding her into more of an arch.
“It’ll feel weird at first,” Namjoon murmurs, dragging his palm down the rest of her back. Despite the heat radiating from him, she feels goosebumps raise along the path of his hand, shivering slightly with a mixture of the cool air of the apartment and nerves. When he reaches one of her cheeks, he spreads her, just enough that she can feel the air conditioning hitting her there, too.
He moves slowly, deliberate with the way he drags his hands across her skin, like he’s giving her time to anticipate what’s happening. Despite that--or maybe as a result of it--Jungah jumps when she feels the pad of one of his fingers rub directly over her dry hole. He circles around her for a few moments, like he’s waiting for her to get used to the touch, but she’s convinced that’s totally impossible.
“You have to relax,” he says, voice low. Jungah can hear the smile in his voice, the way he’s trying to reassure her. “It’ll be terrible for us both if you don’t.”
Jungah swallows thickly and nods--if Namjoon asked it of her, she’d deliver him the moon. She takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to steady herself as he resumes lightly circling her rim again. Slowly, she can feel the tension melting from her body, finally growing accustomed to the sensation of being touched there.
“It is weird,” she mutters, voice muffled slightly by the couch cushion. Jungah only knows he heard her because of the loud, honking laugh he lets out behind her.
There’s a soft click from the plastic cap of the bottle as Namjoon draws his hand away for a moment.”It’s going to get a bit weirder,” he jokes, fingers brushing against her hole again, smearing the lube around with the same circular motions he had been doing.
Jungah scrunches her nose at the weird slippery feeling, fighting to stay relaxed and not squirm away from Namjoon. “It feels like when I get really sweaty at the gym,” she pouts.
Behind her, Namjoon laughs again. “You’ll get used to it. It’s going to get weirder, though. Just one more time, okay, baby?”
She shudders a bit at the pet name, nodding and hiding her face in the crook of her elbow, dark hair falling over her like a curtain. She feels him continue to circle her hole, occasionally adding a bit of pressure as he passes directly over her opening until, eventually, the very tip of one of his fingers slips inside.
Her instinct is to clench up--it’s too odd of a feeling--but as soon as she does it, she forces herself to relax again, taking deep steadying breaths. Namjoon doesn’t move again, just leaves the tip of his finger still inside of her, letting her get used to that feeling, too; he really hadn’t been lying--it’s fucking weird. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a foreign sensation, though not entirely unpleasant.
“Okay?” he asks, pulling his finger out for a moment before pressing it back inside, just a bit more this time.
Jungah nods again, too focused on trying to stay relaxed to think about much else. She feels his other hand gently grip her around her waist as he continues to work his finger into her, squeezing her occasionally.
“You’re doing really well, baby,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the dimples of her lower back.
She gasps quietly, the way he’s leaning over her driving his finger into her at a different angle. Before she knows it, Namjoon’s whole finger is inside of her, his knuckles pressed to her cleft. She jerks slightly when he wiggles it slightly before withdrawing it only part way before pressing it back in, still kissing along her the parts of her back not covered by her oversized shirt.
Maybe it’s the soft praise, or maybe it’s the fleeting kisses pressed to her back, or maybe she’s actually getting used to it, but Jungah finds herself rocking back into Namjoon’s finger slightly, chasing the sensation of being filled.
“Does it feel good?” Namjoon’s voice rumbles against her hip, soft lips just barely brushing against the sensitive skin there.
And, well, that’s the question isn’t it?
Jungah knows she’s moving back into him, trying to pull him deeper inside of her. She can feel the way her skin is flushed, heated all over, blotches of red and pink no doubt decorating her all over. And she can feel more wetness slowly gushing from her other hole, the way it does when Namjoon kisses her for awhile (and especially when he kisses the mole on her neck).
“Y-yes, oppa,” she whispers, releasing a wet gasp into the crook of her elbow when Namjoon flicks his wrist a bit on the next thrust, tugging on her rim just slightly.
Namjoon pulls his hand back, leaving just the tip inside as he pets around her opening with his next finger. “Do you want more?” he asks, words muddied by Jungah’s own body where he’s leaving increasingly wet kisses across her skin, surely leaving little marks and bruises.
Jungah whimpers softly and nods her head, her forehead dragging against the cheap linen fabric of Namjoon’s couch. She feels him lean back away from her again, and she feels suddenly cold in his absence. A shiver runs up her spine when he withdraws his hand completely, drizzling a bit more lube directly over her entrance before pressing back with two fingers.
“There’ll be a bit more pressure this time, but tell me if it really hurts, alright?” Namjoon says, petting over her hole again, spreading the wetness around. Jungah almost can’t decide what she likes more--him playing with her ass like this, or having him inside it.
As soon as she nods, he presses back in, this time with two fingers. He was right again--there’s so much more pressure now than there was with only one finger. The stretch isn’t unbearable, but it’s a shock compared to how it had felt the first time, and Jungah has to fight to keep her breathing steady and stay relaxed.
Namjoon leans back over her, sliding her shirt up to press more kisses along the expanse of her back. This time, though, when he covers her smaller body with his own, he doesn’t pull his own hips back and Jungah can feel his hardness pressing into the back of her thigh, the heat of it pulling a soft moan from her as she drives her hips back once more to meet his thrusting fingers; she’s felt it before-- seen it before, tenting his pants when he’s rolled her off of him before sending her home--but there’s intention behind it now, the knowledge that she’ll be able to help him feel good.
“You look so fucking gorgeous right now, you know that?” he pants, grinding his hips into Jungah’s leg just slightly, pulling another moan from her. “Do you still like it? You like having your ass played with, Jungah-yah?”
Jungah moans again, louder this time, mouth dropping open against her arm as she rolls her hips back quickly; there’s something coiling low in her stomach, and she’s not sure what it is, but she’s single mindedly focused on chasing the sensation, her eyes scrunched closed in concentration.
“O-oppa, please, I,” she pants, “Feels guh-good, please, please, please.” Jungah chants, words slurring together as Namjoon picks up the pace of his hand, fucking his fingers into her hole with more force. The wet squelch of the lube echoes around the small living room, drowned out only by Jungah’s own heavy breathing and mindless begging.
All at once, whatever cord had been winding itself up inside her snaps, her vision going white behind her eyelids and an ocean’s worth of waves crashing in her ears. She thinks she’s making noise--her throat feels raw at any rate, still pushing back into Namjoon behind her.
When she comes back to herself, blinking her eyes open, she feels Namjoon still behind her, rubbing soothing circles into her lower back and pressing light kisses to the base of her spine. His fingers are still moving inside her in a slow grind. She can feel her lower body still spasming occasionally with aftershocks as she fights for breath, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.
“Wh...oppa, I don’t…” Jungah slurs.
“I think you came, baby,” he exhales into her skin, “Had your first orgasm with oppa’s fingers inside you. Squeezed me so tight, shit, ” Namjoon humps against her thigh one more time as he slowly withdraws his hand.
If that’s what an orgasm feels like, Jungah almost doesn’t blame all her friends for having as much sex as they could; she still thinks the real thing will feel even better, getting to share it with her forever.
Jungah groans quietly when Namjoon’s fingers are free, her hole clenching up greedily around the emptiness. She reaches behind herself, rubbing her own fingers over her hole, stretched open slightly and sticky-wet with lube. She thinks she hears Namjoon curse, but there’s still so much static buzzing in her ears that she can’t be sure.
“S’good,” she mumbles, index finger circling her rim, “Felt r’ly good.”
Namjoon nudges her hip again, urging her to lay on her back once more. He presses himself against the back of the couch as she turns, limbs both loose and heavy as she splays herself out on her back. He tugs the leg closest to him up, spreading Jungah even more, smoothing his hand down her inner thigh and leaving a tacky trail of lube in its wake.
He reaches between her cheeks, petting directly over her asshole again, occasionally fucking them in shallowly before pulling them back out while he ruts his still-clothed cock against her hip.
“Want,” Jungah croaks, her throat dry from the way she’s been breathing, “Want oppa to feel good, too.” That’s the entire reason they’re doing this, and Namjoon is still fully clothed--it’s not what she wants at all. Sure, the practice is important to her, but more than anything she’d wanted to help make sure Namjoon felt good.
“I do,” he groans, nosing along her jawline. Namjoon slips his fingers back inside of her all the way, fucking them in deep and pulling a high whimper from her throat. “Feels fucking amazing getting to have you like this.” He kisses wetly along her neck, pausing briefly to nip at her mole.
She can’t help but to rock her hips down, trying her best to meet the thrust of his fingers--it feels too good not to, even if this whole little experiment was supposed to be about Namjoon in the first place. The wet sounds of the lube pick up as Namjoon increases his pace; she feels more slick slowly drip from her pussy, joining the mess already between her cheeks and spilling over Namjoon’s fingers. He’s still rutting against her, the pace of his hips matching his fingers while Jungah can do nothing but lay back and spread her legs impossibly wider--the one that Namjoon doesn’t have his arm warped out planting on the floor next to the couch. Jungah’s begging loudly enough that she’s sure the neighbors can probably hear her--not that it’s enough to get her to lower her volume; she’s entirely sure she could even if she wanted to.
“O-oppa, p-puh-please,” Jungah whines, “M-more, don’t stop, wan’--want--” The truth is that she doesn’t know what she wants, only that she wants Namjoon to feel even a fraction of what she is, and that she doesn’t want any of it to stop, singularly focused on the coiling in her belly again, chasing what she now knows to be an incredible high.
Namjoon is panting against her throat, the hot air slowly making the collar of her shirt damp while his fingers move inside her almost as roughly as his hips move against her. “Gonna give you my cock next time,” he grunts, “Put it right in this tight little hole, shit, ” he pauses to grind his cock on the side of her ass. “Get you lots of practice, yeah? Gotta make sure you study nice and hard.”
Jungah’s legs have started to shake, but she manages to pull herself together just enough to wedge a hand between them, rubbing over Namjoon’s cock through his pants. She realizes in the back of her mind that it’s the first she’s ever actively touched him like this, and she’s hyper-aware of the way he feels under her palm--hard and delicate all at once, the very beginnings of a wet patch forming near the soft head. She’s also not sure if it actually feels good, just rubbing him back and forth the way she is, but he cries out loudly anyway, thrusting into her with more vigor.
He’s breathless the next time he speaks, and Jungah can feel his sweat seeping into her shirt. “You’re gonna be so good on your wedding night, baby.” Namjoon takes a few large gulps of air, his pace not faltering even as he fights for breath. “Gonna-- fuck --gonna go back to your fancy honeymoon suite in your pretty dress.”
It’s almost embarrassing, Jungah thinks, how much the thought of her wedding night turns her on--not even because of the sex, but because of the commitment and the romance, the whole song and dance of professing her love to someone in front of everyone she knows enough to make her pussy clench again, more wetness dripping down and adding to the mess between her cheeks. She moans loudly, putting more pressure on Namjoon’s cock as he continues to rut against her, her tattooed hand clawing at the couch cushion beneath her in an attempt to ground herself.
“Your husband is going to lay you back and you’re gonna be so good for him, baby,” Namjoon bites into her shoulder for a moment, still rutting into her side before he finishes, “Gonna be the perfect little virgin for him.”
When Jungah comes this time, she doesn’t white out--this time, she feels everything: from the way her hips jerk involuntarily, to the way her pussy spasms--trying to milk a cock that’s not there, the way her ass clenches up around Namjoon’s fingers still buried deep inside of her.
Most importantly to Jungah, though, is that she can feel when Namjoon comes, his cock twitching as he spills inside his joggers, the growing hot wet patch of his come that grows beneath her palm. He curses softly under his breath while he comes down, his own hips twitching against Jungah as he stills his fingers in her. Namjoon withdraws his fingers slowly, and Jungah groans as the feeling of emptiness overtakes her again, her hole clenching down in an effort to keep him in.
He eases her leg back down, and Jungah realizes the ache in her hips from being spread open for so long, wincing slightly as she subtly tries to stretch ease out the soreness. They both lay mostly in silence as they try to catch their breath, the TV screensaver bouncing noiselessly around the screen.
Jungah’s not sure how long they lay there, but she finds she’s almost nodded off when Namjoon finally pats the top of her thigh and asks, “So, what did you think?”
She tries to answer but her voice gets swallowed in a yawn causing Namjoon to laugh as she attempts to speak anyway. When she finally manages to bite it down, Jungah looks up at him and pouts, “You can’t laugh at me, you’ve seen me without my pants on.”
“I think that just gives me an even better reason to laugh at you,” Namjoon teases, tapping her nose with his clean hand.
“Is that so, Namjoon-ssi? Then what do I get to laugh at you for?” Jungah asks, tucking her legs in close before rolling off the side of the couch, landing softly on her knees in front of it. She props her head up on the cushion in front of his face, eyes twinkling as she awaits his response.
“Take your pick, baby.”
He leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips, still pressed together in a small pout. He sits up, groaning as he stretches out his own body.
“Okay, I’m sticky,” he says, making to push himself off the couch. “I’m going to shower. You wanna share?” He extends his hand out to Jungah where she’s still seated on the floor.
Jungah blushes as the offer; isn’t that too intimate? Too romantic?
“Just think of it like,” Namjoon pauses, humming to himself for a second, “Like practice. You’ll take lots of baths and showers with your husband, right? This is just something else you should work on before the time comes.”
Jungah blushes even deeper as she shrugs. It’s something else she’d never really given much thought to, but she supposes he is right, yet again. That’s something that married couples do, isn’t it? Wash up together? Especially after they’ve been intimate. She should get used to doing it now so she’s not awkward when the time comes later.
“Okay, oppa,” she mutters, still shy even as she takes his hand and stands up. “If you think it’s important.”
Namjoon tugs her to stand in front of him before wrapping his arms around her waist and shuffling them forward. “I don’t just think so, Jungah-yah--I know so,” he says, pecking her cheek.
Jungah giggles and blushes even more. She’s so lucky to have such a smart and caring boyfriend like Namjoon. She’s going to be the best bride ever.
And the best part of all is that she’s definitely going to be a virgin on her wedding night.